Nia paused at a curb.
“Why did she stop?” Max asked.
“Curb,” Anna said.
He tapped his stick until he found the obstruction, and then stepped onto the sidewalk.
Anna’s frustration swelled. “What happened, Max?”
“Nothing.”
She clasped the handle to Nia’s harness and gave a backward and downward jerk. “Halt.”
Nia stopped. She panted, her breath producing a mist in the frigid air.
Max lowered his head.
“You promised me you’d try.”
He rubbed his face with a glove-covered hand. “That’s not it.”
“Then what is it?” Anna touched the sleeve of his coat. “Please, tell me.”
He took a deep breath and pulled an envelope from his coat pocket. “This morning, I found this in my suitcase.”
A foreboding ache grew in her gut.
He held out the envelope. “Will you read it to me?”
She led him and Nia to a public bench near St. Lambert’s Church—its neo-Gothic spires towering toward early evening stars—and sat. A horse-drawn carriage passed by; the clopping of hooves faded into the night. Under the flickering glow of a gas streetlamp, she removed her gloves and opened the envelope. Her anxiousness grew. She’d read scores of letters to maimed soldiers at the hospital, but this one, she worried, might have far different consequences.
“Are you sure you want me to read this?” she asked.
He nodded. “I think I know what it’s about, but I need to know for sure.”
She unfolded the letter and read aloud.
Anna trembled. She squeezed the paper between her fingers to steady her hands.
A wretched ache grew beneath Anna’s sternum. She paused, loosening her scarf, and then continued reading.
“I’m so sorry,” Anna said, tears welling in her eyes.
“Danke,” he said.
Nia padded to Max and placed her chin on his lap. She stared at him but didn’t wag her tail.
He rubbed Nia’s head.
“Are you okay?” Anna asked.
He nodded. “Our relationship was over the day I came home from the front. My blindness changed everything between us. It was naïve of me to think that with time, and me gaining mobility, our fondness for each other would rekindle.”
She wiped her eyes. “You knew this was coming, didn’t you?”
“Not the letter. But I didn’t expect her to be at the apartment when I came home.”
Anna looked at him, his face filled with melancholy. “I’m so sorry you had to spend the entire day with the letter in your pocket.”No wonder you couldn’t concentrate at school.She folded the letter, placed it in the envelope, and gave it to him. “I could have read it for you this morning when you discovered it.”
