“I didn’t say I had fallen.”
“You said resisting is difficult.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“It is enough.”
I touched his chin but waited until he chose to look at me.
“I love you. You know that.”
“Yes.”
“You are not required to catch up.”
“I’m tired of being behind.”
“You are not behind me. We began from different places.”
He released a long breath.
“Do you remember saying it in the black coat?”
The question came without warning.
“What?”
“On the bluff.”
His gaze had turned distant.
“There was a stone house.”
“Alder Cove?”
“Maybe.”
My heartbeat quickened.
Three winters earlier, we had rented a cottage above a northern inlet. Snow had covered the hills while rain battered the coast. The fireplace had failed. My new coat had been toolarge, and the hood kept blowing over my face until Noah laughed hard enough to lose his balance.
“What do you remember?” I asked.
“The fireplace wouldn’t draw.”
“No.”
“Smoke filled the room.”
“Yes.”
“You opened all the windows and swore at the chimney.”
“That happened.”
His fingers pressed against his temple.
“We went outside.”
