Eliza sighed.
“I appeared on his porch and demanded marriage by Monday.”
The teacher stared.
Nathan added:
“She brought terms.”
“You were lucky I did.”
“I was terrified.”
“You were not.”
“I absolutely was.”
The young teacher laughed.
Eliza smiled despite herself.
Then told the truth.
“We began badly.”
Nathan looked at her.
She continued.
“Not cruelly.”
“Just backward.”
“We agreed to marriage before we admitted affection.”
“We built rules because both of us were frightened.”
“And then we discovered rules are useful but cannot predict the entire heart.”
The young woman became quiet.
Nathan reached across.
Took Eliza’s hand.
Routine.
Forty years of doing it.
Eliza squeezed.
At sixty-nine, Nathan’s heart began failing.
Slowly.
Not sudden.
There was time.
Time can be a gift and cruelty together.
He tired easily.
Stopped riding long distances.
Eddie managed much of the ranch.
Eliza had retired from daily teaching but still visited school twice a week and frightened young instructors by appearing silently behind them during lessons.
Nathan spent more mornings on the porch.
One rainy evening, Eliza found him holding the old contract.
She stopped.
“Where did you get that?”
“Your desk.”
“You were searching my desk?”
“Yes.”
“After forty-six years, we finally have a scandal.”
He smiled.
Eliza sat beside him.
Rain fell beyond the porch.
Same sound.
Different year.
Nathan traced the line he had crossed out.
“At the completion of six months…”
Eliza leaned closer.
“You vandalized a legal document.”
“Improved.”
She rested her head against his shoulder.
“What are you thinking?”
“That I almost let you walk away.”
“When?”
“That night.”
She lifted her head.
“You didn’t.”
“I nearly did.”
“Why?”
Nathan stared into the rain.
“Because I thought you only came because you were desperate.”
“I did.”
“Yes.”
“And I thought saying what I wanted would be unfair.”
Eliza considered.
“Maybe it would have been.”
He looked at her.
She continued.
“You said it anyway.”
“Yes.”
“But you gave me the choice.”
He nodded.
“That was the difference.”
Nathan folded the contract.
“My smartest decision.”
“Crossing out my clause?”
“No.”
“Which?”
“Not deciding for you.”
Eliza’s eyes filled.
She hated crying more as she aged because it made her nose red.
Nathan loved teasing her about it.
He did not now.
He kissed her temple.
“I’m afraid.”
She knew.
“So am I.”
He looked at her.
“I don’t want to leave.”
Eliza’s throat closed.
“This time there’s no clause to cross out.”
“No.”
Rain continued.
She took his hand.
“Then we don’t waste tonight discussing endings.”
Nathan smiled.
“What instead?”