She paused then, lifted her head from his shoulder, and looked directly at him. Whenshe spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I think I loved you more thatsummer than I ever loved anyone."

Lightning flashed again. In the quiet moments before the thunder, their eyes met asthey tried to undo the fourteen years, both of them sensing a change since yesterday.

When the thunder finally sounded, Noah sighed and turned from her, toward thewindows.

"I wish you could have read the letters I wrote you," he said. Shedidn't speak for a long while.

"It wasn't just up to you, Noah. I didn't tell you, but I wrote you a dozen letters afterI got home. I just never sent them."

"Why?" Noah was surprised. "I guess I was too afraid." "Of what?"

"That maybe it wasn't as real as I thought it was. That maybe you forgot me."

"I would never do that. I couldn't even think it."

"I know that now. I can see it when I look at you. But back then, it was different.

There was so much I didn't understand, things that a young girl's mind couldn'tsort out."

"What do you mean?"

She paused, collecting her thoughts.

"When your letters never came, I didn't know what to think. I remember talking tomy best friend about what happened that summer, and she said that you got whatyou wanted, and that she wasn't surprised that you wouldn't write. I didn't believethat you were that way, I never did, but hearing it and thinking about all ourdifferences made me wonder if maybe the summer meant more to me than it hadmeant to you .... And then, while all this was going through my head, I heard fromSarah. She said that you had left New Bern.”

"Fin and Sarah always knew where I was‐‐"

She held up her hand to stop him. "I know, but I never asked. I assumed that you hadleft New Bern to start a new life, one without me. Why else wouldn't you write? Orcall ? Or come see ?

Noah looked away without answering, and she continued:

"I didn't know, and in time, the hurt began to fade and it was easier to just let it go.

At least I thought it was. But in every boy I met in the next few years, I found myselflooking for you, and when the feelings got too strong, I'd write you another letter.

But I never sent them for fear of what I might find. By then, you'd gone on with yourlife and I didn't want to think about you loving someone else. I wanted to rememberus like we were that summer. I didn't want to ever lose that."

She said it so sweetly, so innocently, that Noah wanted to kiss her when she finished.

But he didn't. Instead he fought the urge and pushed it back, knowing it wasn't whatshe needed. Yet she felt so wonderful to him, touching him .... "The last letter I wrotewas a couple of years ago. After I met Lon, I wrote to your daddy to find out whereyou were. But it had been so long since I'd seen you, I wasn't even sure he'd still bethere. And with the war..."

She trailed off, and they were quiet for a moment, both of them lost in thought.

Lightning lit the sky again before Noah finally broke the silence.

"I wish you would have mailed it anyway."

"Why?"

"Just to hear from you. To hear what you've been up to."

"You might have been disappointed. My life isn't too exciting. Besides, I'm not exactlywhat you remembered."

"You're better than I remembered, Allie." "You're sweet, Noah."

He almost stopped there, knowing that if he kept the words inside him, he couldsomehow keep control, the same control he had kept the past fourteen years. Butsomething else had overtaken him now, and he gave in to it, hoping somehow, insome way, it would take them back to what they'd had so long ago.

"I'm not saying it because I'm sweet. I'm saying it because I love you now and I alwayshave. More than you can imagine."

A log snapped, sending sparks up the chimney, and both of them noticed thesmoldering remains, almost burned through. The fire needed another log, butneither of them moved.

Allie took another sip of bourbon and began to feel its effects. But it wasn't justthe alcohol that made her hold Noah a little tighter and feel his warmth againsther. Glancing out the window, she saw the clouds were almost black.

"Let me get the fire going again," Noah said, needing to think, and she released him.

He went to the fireplace, opened the screen, and added a couple of logs. He used thepoker to adjust the burning wood, making sure the new wood could catch easily. The

flame began to spread again, and Noah returned to her side. She snuggled up againsthim again, resting her head on his shoulder as she had before, not speaking, rubbingher hand lightly against his chest. Noah leaned closer and whispered in her ear.

"This reminds me of how we once were. When we were young."

She smiled, thinking the same thing, and they watched the fire and smoke, holdingeach other.

"Noah, you've never asked, but I want you to

know something."

"What is it?" Her

voice was tender.

"There's never been another, Noah. You weren't just the first. You're the only manI've ever been with. I don't expect you to say the same thing, but I wanted you toknow."

Noah was silent as he turned away. She felt warmer as she watched the fire. Her handran over the muscles beneath his shirt, hard and firm as they leaned against eachother. She remembered when they'd held each other like this for what they'dthought would be the last time. They were sitting on a sea wall designed to hold backthe waters of the Neuse River. She was crying because they might never see eachother again, and she wondered how she could ever be happy again. Instead ofanswering, he pressed a note into her hand, which she read on the way home. Shehad saved it, occasionally reading all of it or sometimes just a part. One part she'dread at least a hundred times, and for some reason it ran through her head now. Itsaid:

The reason it hurts so much to separate is because our souls are connected. Maybethey always have been and will be. Maybe we've lived a thousand lives before this oneand in each of them we've found each other. And maybe each time, we've beenforced apart for the same reasons. That means that this good‐bye is both a goodbyefor the past ten thousand years and a prelude to what will come.

When I look at you, I see your beauty and grace and know they have grown strongerwith every life you have lived. And I know I have spent every life before this onesearching for you. Not someone like you, but you, for your soul and mine must alwayscome together. And then, for a reason neither of us understands, we've been forcedto say good‐bye.

I would love to tell you that everything will work out for us, and I promise to do allI can to make sure it does. But if we never meet again and this is truly good‐bye, Iknow we will see each other again in another life. We will find each other again,and maybe the stars will have changed, and we will not only love each other inthat time, but for all the times we've had before.

Could it be? she wondered. Could he be right? She had never completely discountedit, wanting to hold on to its promise in case it was true. The idea had helped herthrough many hard times. But sitting here now seemed to test the theory that theywere destined to always be apart. Unless the stars had changed since they were lasttogether.

And maybe they had, but she didn't want to look. Instead she leaned into him andfelt the heat between them, felt his body, felt his arm tight around her. And herbody began to tremble with the same anticipation she had felt the first time theywere together.

It felt so right to be here. Everything felt right. The fire, the drinks, the storm‐‐itcouldn't have been more perfect. Like magic, it seemed, their years apart didn'tmatter anymore.

Lightning cut the sky outside. Fire danced on white‐hot wood, spreading the heat.