Rose looked toward him.
“For a very long time.”
“It felt like an hour.”
“It was perhaps fifteen seconds.”
“Cruelest fifteen seconds of my life.”
Rose laughed.
Will grew serious.
“Why did you wait?”
“For you?”
“Yes.”
Rose considered.
“I did not wait without living.”
“That matters.”
“I worked.”
“I loved my father.”
“I had friends.”
“I danced.”
“I said no to men because I wanted to say no.”
She looked at him.
“I was not sitting in a tower waiting for you to rescue me.”
Will smiled.
“No.”
“But I hoped.”
“For what?”
“That one day you would stop telling yourself stories about what I deserved and ask me what I wanted.”
Will looked down.
“I wasted time.”
“Yes.”
“Do you regret it?”
Rose considered.
“No.”
Will looked surprised.
“Why?”
“Because you learned.”
“And because when you finally came to me, you came honestly.”
Will touched her hand.
Rose squeezed his fingers.
He looked toward the mountains.
“Still beautiful.”
Rose followed his gaze.
“Yes.”
Will looked at her.
“I meant you.”
Rose smiled.
“You are becoming predictable.”
“Thirty years married will do that.”
She stepped closer.
Will put his coffee aside.
Rose rested both hands against his coat.
“You once told me I was too beautiful for you.”
“I was wrong.”
“You were.”
“I know.”
“And what do you think now?”
Will looked into her eyes.
“I think I was fortunate enough that you never asked whether I was enough.”
Rose’s expression softened.
“What did I ask?”
“Whether I would show up.”
She nodded.
“And did you?”
“Eventually.”
Rose smiled.
“Eventually was enough.”
Will kissed her.
Not urgently.
Not like their first kiss in Main Street when years of fear finally broke.
This kiss held something else.
Decades.
Children.
Funerals.
Arguments.
Winter sickness.
Summer heat.
Bills.
Births.
Ordinary mornings.
Everything people meant when they promised a life and did not yet understand the size of the promise.
When they separated, Rose touched his cheek.
“You are staring again.”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
And Will Hadley did not look away.