Fifty Words for Rain(101)

She bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood. “I don’t know.”

“Well, you had best figure it out. He’s asked if I’d have my driver drop him at the train station.”

“Tell me what to do,” Nori begged. “Alice, you know things about love. You know about men. Tell me what I should do.”

Alice sighed. “My dear, I cannot tell you what to do. It’s your path to walk. I have mine already. You are welcome to live your entire life as a part of mine, if that’s what you wish. But you must ask yourself, truly . . . if there’s any piece of you that wishes for more.”

Nori shook her head. “But what if I choose wrong?”

Alice smiled and kissed her cheek. “No matter what you choose,” she whispered, “I will always love you. And you will always have a home with me.”



* * *





Nori waited for him at the foot of the back staircase.

He came down, wearing his coat and clutching a small suitcase. It struck her that everything he owned in the world was inside.

He looked at her with a calm face. “Do move,” he said, pleasantly enough. “I’m expected.”

She swallowed the lump of air in her throat. “Please don’t go.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“I don’t want you to go,” she said weakly. She knew what he wanted to hear, but she could not say it.

“Not good enough.”

“Noah!” she cried. “I’m trying!”

“Try harder,” he said simply. “I won’t accept half of you.”

She planted her feet and spread her arms so that he could not get around her. “Don’t be so stubborn!”

“Look who’s talking,” he scoffed. “You have kept me at arm’s length at every chance, and now you command me to stay.”

“I’m asking you,” she croaked. “I have no commands to give. I’m asking you not to leave me.”

He put down his suitcase and crossed his arms. “Why should I stay?”

She began to gesture wildly with her hands, as if they could convey what her words could not. “The girls adore you. And there is nothing for you in Cornwall now, you said so yourself. And you . . . well, you . . .”

He sighed. “If this is all you have to say, Nori, I have a train to catch.”

Gently, so gently, he pushed her aside. She turned to stare at his back, and it hit her, full force, what a familiar sight this was. The back of someone she loved.

Be brave.

She flung herself at him, wrapping her arms around his waist.

“Stay,” she whispered.

She felt the tears sliding down her cheeks.

“I love you, Noah. I love you with everything that is left of my heart.”

He turned to face her and cradled her face in his hands.

“Ah, my love. Now, was that so hard?”

She choked back a sob. “Don’t leave. Don’t ever leave me.”

He kissed her. “I won’t.”

And the strangest thing happened then: Nori believed him.

“So are you going to marry me or not?”

She laughed as he hoisted her up high in his arms. “Maybe tomorrow.”





CHAPTER EIGHTEEN


    CHRYSANTHEMUM




London, England

May 1965

The dress was made. Alice had hired an army of seamstresses to craft an ivory number that paid homage to a kimono, with long bell sleeves and a plunging neck.

The venue was set—a small chapel nestled in the ruins of a castle. Charlotte was thrilled and demanded that she be the one to choose the bridesmaids’ dresses, while Matilda, who was just learning to argue, insisted that the duty should go to her instead.

Alice was debating with George over which of their many country houses they should assign the newlyweds to live in. Noah would be promoted to George’s private secretary, with a substantial income boost.

Nori was grateful, but in truth paid little attention to any of it. She was constantly intoxicated, nothing more than yearning sinew and aching bones. On those rare occasions she could drag herself out of Noah’s arms, all she wanted to do was dream.

Her happiness was complete.

Well, almost.

There was something missing. There would always be something missing. But she knew he would have been happy to see this.

It was in these sunny days that she finally told Noah about the diaries.

For whatever reason, she had been holding on to this secret. This and one other thing—she had never spoken about the night Akira died. Nor would she. Ever.

She took his hand and led him to sit on the stone bench beneath the birch trees, with the branches fanning out over their heads like protective halos.

The last of her mother’s diaries, which she had never finished, lay heavy in her lap.

Noah looked at her with his honest blue gaze. “So why have you not read it?”

She waved a hand as if to say that there were thousands of reasons. He snatched it out of the air and kissed it.

“Is it that you are afraid that your mother will talk about your father?” he asked simply. “Or that she will talk about you?”

Nori fidgeted. “I read them because I wanted to know who she was. Before me. I never wanted to know who she was after. There must be a reason I can’t remember. Maybe I’m not meant to know.”