The act of love . . . is a confession. Selfishness screams aloud, vanity shows off, or else true generosity reveals itself.

Albert Camus

 
 
 
 
 
Tác giả: Nicholas Sparks
Thể loại: Tiểu Thuyết
Biên tập: Yen
Language: English
Số chương: 23
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Cập nhật: 2015-01-31 12:29:53 +0700
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Chapter 10
s the evening drew to a close, Jeremy stood with Mayor Gherkin on the porch while Lexie and Doris stood off to the side.
“I sure do hope this evening met with your approval,” Mayor Gherkin said, “and that you were able to see for yourself what a wonderful opportunity you have when it comes to this story.”
“I did, thank you. But you didn’t have to go to all this trouble,” Jeremy protested.
“Nonsense,” Gherkin replied. “Why, it’s the least we can do. And besides, I wanted you to see what this town is capable of when it sets its mind to something. You can only imagine what we’d do for those television folks. Of course, you’ll get a little bit more of the town’s flavor this weekend, too. The small-town atmosphere, the feeling of traveling back in time as you walk through the homes. It’s like nothing you can imagine.”
“I have no doubt about that,” Jeremy said.
Gherkin smiled. “Well, listen, I have a few things to take care of inside. A mayor’s duty never ends, you know.”
“I understand,” he said. “And thanks for this, by the way,” Jeremy said, raising the key to the city.
“Oh, you’re very welcome. You deserve it.” He reached for Jeremy’s hand. “But don’t get any funny ideas. It’s not like you can open the bank vault with it. It’s more of a symbolic gesture.”
Jeremy smiled as Gherkin pumped his hand. After Gherkin vanished inside, Doris and Lexie approached Jeremy, smirks on their faces. Despite that, Jeremy couldn’t help but notice that Doris looked exhausted.
“L-I-B,” Doris said.
“What?” Jeremy asked.
“You and your city slicker ways.”
“Excuse me?”
“It’s just that you should have heard the way some of these folks were talking about you,” Doris teased. “I just feel lucky that I can say I knew you way back when.”
Jeremy smiled, looking sheepish. “It was a little crazy, wasn’t it?”
“I’ll say,” Doris said. “My Bible study group talked all night about how handsome you are. A couple of them wanted to bring you home, but fortunately, I was able to talk them out of it. And besides, I don’t think their husbands would have been too thrilled.”
“I appreciate that.”
“Did you get enough to eat? I think I can rustle up some food if you’re hungry.”
“No, I’m fine. Thanks.”
“You sure? Your night’s really just beginning, isn’t it?”
“I’ll be okay,” he assured her. In the silence, he looked around, noting that the fog had become even thicker. “But on that note, I suppose I should probably be going. I’d hate to miss my big chance at getting a whiff of the supernatural.”
“Don’t worry. You won’t miss the lights,” Doris said. “They don’t come out until later, so you’ve still got a couple of hours.” Surprising Jeremy, she leaned in and gave him a tired hug. “I just wanted to thank you for taking the time to meet everyone. It’s not every stranger who’s as good at listening as you are.”
“No problem. I enjoyed it.”
After Doris had released him, Jeremy turned his attention to Lexie, thinking that growing up with Doris must have been a lot like growing up with his own mother.
“You ready to go?”
Lexie nodded, but still hadn’t said a word to him. Instead, she kissed Doris on the cheek, said she’d see her tomorrow, and a moment later, Jeremy and Lexie were walking to the car, the gravel crunching softly beneath their feet. She seemed to be staring into the distance but seeing nothing at all. After a few steps in silence, Jeremy gently nudged her shoulder with his.
“You okay? You’re sort of quiet.”
She shook her head, coming back to him. “I’m just thinking about Doris. Tonight really tired her out, and even though I probably shouldn’t, I worry about her.”
“She seemed fine.”
“Yeah, she puts up a good front. But she’s got to learn to take it easier. She had a heart attack a couple of years ago, but she likes to pretend it never happened. And after this, she has a big weekend, too.”
Jeremy wasn’t quite sure what to say; the thought that Doris was anything but healthy had never entered his mind.
Lexie noticed his discomfort and smiled. “But she did enjoy herself, that’s for sure. We both had the chance to talk to a lot of people that we haven’t seen in a while.”
“I thought everyone here saw everyone else all the time.”
“We do. But people are busy, and it’s not often that you have more than a few minutes to chat between errands. Tonight was nice, though.” She glanced toward him. “And Doris was right. People loved you.”
She sounded almost shocked by the admission, and Jeremy pushed his hands into his pockets.
“Well, you shouldn’t have been surprised. I am very lovable, you know.”
She rolled her eyes, looking more playful than annoyed. Behind them, the house was receding into the distance as they rounded the hedge.
“Hey, I know it’s none of my business, but how did it go with Rodney?”
She hesitated before finally shrugging. “You’re right. It is none of your business.”
He looked for a smile but saw none. “Well, the only reason I asked was because I was wondering whether you think it might be a good idea if I sneak out of town under the cover of darkness so he doesn’t have the chance to crush my head with his bare hands.”
That brought a smile. “You’ll be fine. And besides, you’d break the mayor’s heart if you left. Not every visitor gets a party like this or a key to the city.”
“It’s the first one I’ve ever received. Usually, I just get hate mail.”
She laughed, the sound melodic. In the moonlight, her features were unreadable, and he thought back to how animated she had been among the townspeople.
Reaching the car, he opened the door for her. As she climbed in, she brushed against him slightly, and he wondered if she did so in response to the way he’d nudged her, or if she even noticed. After rounding the car, he slid behind the wheel, slipping the keys into the ignition but hesitating before starting the engine.
“What?” she asked.
“I was just thinking . . .,” he said, trailing off.
The words seemed to hang in the car and she nodded. “I thought I heard some squeaking.”
“Funny. I was trying to say, I know it’s getting late, but would you like to come with me to the cemetery?”
“In case you get scared?”
“Something like that.”
She peeked at her watch, thinking, Oh, boy . . .
She shouldn’t go. She really shouldn’t. She’d already opened the door by coming with him tonight, and to spend the next couple of hours alone with him would open the door even further. She knew that nothing good could come of that, and there wasn’t a single reason to say yes. But before she could stop herself, the words were already coming.
“I’d have to swing by the house first to change into something more comfortable.”
“That’s fine,” he said. “I’m all for you changing into something more comfortable.”
“I’ll bet you are,” she said knowingly.
“Now, don’t start getting fresh,” he said, feigning offense. “I don’t think we know each other well enough for that.”
“That’s my line,” she said.
“I thought I’d heard it somewhere.”
“Well, get your own material next time. And just so you know, I don’t want you getting any funny ideas about tonight, either.”
“I have no funny ideas. I’m completely devoid of humor.”
“You know what I meant.”
“No,” he said, trying to look innocent. “What did you mean?”
“Just drive, will you? Or I’ll change my mind.”
“Okay, okay,” he said, turning the key. “Gee, you can be pushy sometimes.”
“Thank you. I’ve been told it’s one of my better qualities.”
“By whom?”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?”
The Taurus rolled along the foggy streets, the yellow streetlamps only making the night seem murkier. As soon as they pulled into her drive, she opened her door.
“Wait here,” she said, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll only be a few minutes.”
He smiled, liking the fact she was nervous.
“Do you need my key to the city to open your door? I’d be happy to lend it to you.”
“Now, don’t start thinking you’re special, Mr. Marsh. My mother got a key to the city, too.”
“Are we back to ‘Mr. Marsh’ again? And here I thought we were getting along just fine.”
“And I’m beginning to think this evening has gone to your head.”
She stepped out of the car and closed the door behind her in an attempt to have the last word. Jeremy laughed, thinking she was a lot like he was. Unable to resist, he pressed the button on his door to lower her window. He leaned across the seat.
“Hey, Lexie?”
She turned. “Yes?”
“Since it might be chilly tonight, feel free to grab a bottle of wine.”
She put her hands on her hips. “Why? So you can ply me with liquor?”
He grinned. “Only if you’re okay with that.”
Her eyes narrowed, but like before, she looked more playful than offended. “Not only do I not keep any wine in the house, Mr. Marsh, but I’d say no, anyway.”
“You don’t drink?”
“Not too much,” she said. “Now, wait there,” she warned, pointing toward the drive. “I’m going to throw on a pair of jeans.”
“I promise not to even try to peek in the window.”
“Good idea. I’d definitely have to tell Rodney if you did something that stupid.”
“That doesn’t sound good.”
“Trust me,” she said, trying to muster a severe look, “it wouldn’t be.”
Jeremy watched her move up the walkway, certain that he’d never met anyone quite like her.
Fifteen minutes later, they pulled to a stop in front of Cedar Creek Cemetery. He’d angled the car so the headlights shone into the cemetery, and his first thought was that even the fog looked different here. It was dense and impenetrable in places while thin in others, and the slight breeze made discrete tendrils curve and twist, almost as if alive. The low-hanging branches of the magnolia tree were nothing but darkened shadows, and the crumbling tombs added to the eerie effect. It was so dark that Jeremy was unable to discern even the faintest sliver of the moon in the sky.
Leaving the car idling, he popped the trunk. As she peered in, Lexie’s eyes widened.
“It looks like you’ve got the makings to build a bomb in there.”
“Nah,” he said. “Just a bunch of cool things. Guys love their toys, you know.”
“I thought you’d just have a video camera or something like that.”
“I do. I have four of them.”
“Why do you need four?”
“To film every angle, of course. For instance, what if the ghosts are walking in the wrong direction? I might not get their faces.”
She ignored the comment. “And what’s this thing?” she asked, pointing to an electronic box.
“A microwave radiation detector. And this over here,” he said, gesturing at another item, “sort of goes with it. It detects electromagnetic activity.”
“You’re kidding.”
“No,” he said. “It’s in the official ghostbuster’s handbook. You’ll often find increased spiritual activity in areas where there are high concentrations of energy, and this will help detect an abnormal energy field.”
“Have you ever recorded an abnormal energy field?”
“As a matter of fact, I have. In a supposedly haunted house, no less. Unfortunately, it had nothing to do with ghosts. The owner’s microwave oven wasn’t working properly.”
“Ah,” she said.
He looked at her. “Now you’re stealing my lines.”
“It’s all I could come up with. Sorry.”
“It’s okay. I’ll share.”
“Why do you have all this stuff?”
“Because,” he said, “when I debunk the possibility of ghosts, I have to use everything that paranormal investigators use. I don’t want to be accused of missing anything, and these people have their rules. Besides, it seems more impressive when someone reads that you’ve used an electromagnetic detector. They think you know what you’re doing.”
“And do you?”
“Sure. I told you, I have the official handbook.”
She laughed. “So what can I help you with? Do you need me to help carry any of this stuff?”
“We’ll be using all of it. But if you consider this to be manly work, I’m sure I can handle it on my own while you do your nails or something.”
She pulled out one of the camcorders, slung it over her shoulder, and grabbed another one.
“Okay, Mr. Manly, which way?”
“That depends. Where do you think we should set up? Since you’ve seen the lights, maybe you have some ideas.”
She nodded in the direction of the magnolia tree, where she’d been heading when he’d first seen her in the cemetery.
“Over there,” she said. “That’s where you’ll see the lights.”
It was the spot directly in front of Riker’s Hill, though the hill was hidden in the fog.
“Do they always appear in the same spot?”
“I have no idea. But that’s where they were when I saw them.”
Over the next hour, as Lexie filmed him with one of the camcorders, Jeremy set everything up. He arranged the other three video recorders in a large triangular pattern, mounting them on tripods, attaching special filtering lenses to two of them, and adjusting the zoom until the entire area was overlapped. He tested the laser remotes, then began setting up the audio equipment. Four microphones were attached to nearby trees, and a fifth was placed near the center, which was where he’d set the electromagnetic and radiation detectors, as well as the central recorder.
As he was making sure everything worked properly, he heard Lexie calling out to him.
“Hey, how do I look?”
He turned and saw her wearing the night-vision goggles and looking something like a bug.
“Very sexy,” he said. “I think you’ve definitely found your style.”
“These things are neat. I can see everything out here.”
“Anything I should be worried about?”
“Aside from a couple of hungry cougars and bears, you seem to be alone.”
“Well, I’m almost done here. All I still have to do is spread some flour and unwind the thread.”
“Flour? Like baking flour?”
“It’s to make sure no one tampers with the equipment. The flour is so I can check for footprints, and the thread will let me know if anyone else approaches.”
“That’s very clever. But you know we’re alone out here, right?”
“You can never be certain,” he said.
“Oh, I’m certain. But you just do your thing, and I’ll keep the camera pointed in the right direction. You’re doing great, by the way.”
He laughed as he opened the bag of flour and began pouring, circling the cameras with a thin white layer. He did the same around the microphones and other equipment, then tied the thread to a branch and formed a large square around the whole area as if closing off a crime scene. He ran a second thread about two feet lower and then hung small bells on the thread. When he finally finished, he made his way back to Lexie.
“I didn’t know there was so much to do,” she said.
“I guess you’re developing a whole new level of respect for me, huh?”
“Not really. I was actually just trying to make conversation.”
He smiled before nodding toward the car. “I’m going to go hit the lights on the car. And hopefully, none of this will have been in vain.”
When he shut off the engine, the cemetery turned black and he waited for his eyes to adjust. Unfortunately, they didn’t, the cemetery proving to be darker than a cave. After feeling his way back to the gate like a blind spelunker, he stumbled on an exposed root just inside the entrance and nearly fell.
“Can I have my night-vision goggles?” he shouted.
“No,” he heard her respond. “Like I said, these things are neat. And besides, you’re doing fine.”
“But I can’t see anything.”
“You’re clear for the next few steps. Just walk forward.”
He moved forward slowly with his arms outstretched before stopping.
“Now what?”
“You’re in front of a crypt, so move to your left.” She sounded way too amused by this, Jeremy thought.
“You forgot to say ‘Simon says.’”
“Do you want my help or not?”
“I really want my goggles,” he almost pleaded.
“You’ll have to come and get them.”
“You could always come and get me instead.”
“I could, but I won’t. It’s much more fun to see you wandering around like a zombie. Now move to your left. I’ll tell you when to stop.”
The game proceeded this way until he finally found his way back to her side. As he took a seat, she slipped the goggles off, grinning.
“Here you go,” she said.
“Gee, thanks.”
“No problem. I’m glad I could help.”
For the next half hour or so, Lexie and Jeremy rehashed the events of the party. It was too dark for Jeremy to read Lexie’s face, but he liked how close she felt in the enveloping darkness.
Changing the topic of conversation, he said, “Tell me about the time that you saw the lights. I heard everyone else’s story tonight.”
Though her features were nothing but shadows, Jeremy had the impression that she was being drawn back in time to something she wasn’t sure she wanted to remember.
“I was eight years old,” she said, her voice soft. “For whatever reason, I’d started having nightmares about my parents. Doris kept their wedding picture on the wall, and that was the way they always looked in the dream: Mom in her wedding dress and Dad in his tuxedo. Only this time, they were trapped in their car after it had fallen in the river. It was like I was looking at them from outside the car, and I could see the panic and fear on both their faces as water slowly filled the car. And my mom would get this real sad expression on her face, like she knew it was the end, and all of a sudden, the car would start sinking faster, and I’d be watching it descend from above.”
Her voice was strangely devoid of emotion, and she sighed.
“I’d wake up screaming. I don’t know how many times it happened—it just sort of blurs together now in one big memory—but it must have gone on long enough for Doris to realize it wasn’t just a phase. I suppose other parents might have taken me to a therapist, but Doris . . . well, she just woke me up late one night and told me to get dressed and put on a warm jacket, and the next thing I knew she’d brought me here. She told me she was going to show me something wonderful . . .
“I remember it was a night like tonight, so Doris held my hand to keep me from stumbling. We wound our way among the tombstones and then sat for a while until the lights came. They looked almost alive—everything got really bright . . . until the lights just faded away. And then we went home.”
He could almost hear her shrug. “Even though I was young, I knew then what had happened, and when I got back home, I couldn’t sleep, because I’d just seen the ghosts of my parents. It was like they’d come to visit me. After that, I stopped having the nightmares.”
Jeremy was silent.
She leaned closer. “Do you believe me?”
“Yes,” he said, “actually, I do. Your story would have been the one that I remembered from tonight, even if I didn’t know you.”
“Well, just so you know, I’d rather my experience not end up in your article.”
“Are you sure? You can be famous.”
“I’ll pass. I’m witnessing firsthand how a little fame can ruin a person.”
He laughed. “Since this is off the record, then, can I ask if your memories were part of the reason you agreed to come out here tonight? Or was it because you wanted to enjoy my scintillating company?”
“Well, it definitely wasn’t the latter,” she said, but even as she said it, she knew it was. She thought he realized it as well, but in the brief pause that followed her remark, she sensed that her words had stung.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“It’s okay,” he said, waiving it off. “Remember, I had five older brothers. Insults were mandatory in a family like ours, so I’m used to it.”
She straightened up. “Okay, to answer your question . . . maybe I did want to see the lights again. To me, they’ve always been a source of comfort.”
Jeremy picked up a twig from the ground and tossed it aside.
“Your grandmother was a smart lady. Doing what she did, I mean.”
“She is a smart lady.”
“I stand corrected,” he said, and just then Lexie shifted beside him, as if straining to see into the distance.
“I think you may want to turn your equipment on,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because they’re coming. Can’t you tell?”
He was about to make a crack about being “ghostproof” when he realized that he could see not only Lexie but the cameras in the distance. And, he noticed, the route to the car. It was getting lighter out here, wasn’t it?
“Hello,” she prompted. “You’re missing your big chance here.”
He squinted, trying to make sure his eyes weren’t playing tricks on him, then aimed the remote at each of the three cameras. In the distance, the red power lights switched on. Still, it was all he could do to process the fact that something actually seemed to be happening.
He glanced around, looking for passing cars or illuminated houses, and when he looked toward the cameras again, he decided that he definitely wasn’t seeing things. Not only were the cameras visible, but he could see the electromagnetic detector in the center of his triangle as well. He reached for his night-vision goggles.
“You won’t need those,” she said.
He put them on, anyway, and the world took on a greenish phosphorescent glow. As the light grew in intensity, the fog began to curve and swirl, assuming different shapes.
He glanced at his watch: it was 11:44:10 p.m., and he made a note to remember it. He wondered if the moon had suddenly risen—he doubted it, but he would check on the phase when he got back to his room at Greenleaf.
But these were secondary thoughts. The fog, as Lexie had predicted, continued to brighten, and he lowered the goggles for a moment, noting the difference between the images. It was still growing brighter outside, but the change seemed more significant with the goggles. He couldn’t wait to compare the videotaped images side by side. But right now all he could do was stare straight ahead, this time without the goggles.
Holding his breath, he watched as the fog in front of them grew more silver by the moment, before changing to a pale yellow, then an opaque white, and finally an almost blinding brightness. For a moment, just a moment, most of the cemetery was visible—like a football field illuminated before the big game— and portions of the foggy light began to churn in a small circle before suddenly spreading outward from the cluster, like an exploding star. For an instant, Jeremy imagined that he saw the shapes of people or things, but just then the light began to recede, as if being pulled on a string, back toward the center, and even before he realized the lights had vanished, the cemetery had turned black once more.
He blinked, as if to reassure himself that it had really happened, then checked his watch again. The whole event had taken twenty-two seconds from start to finish. Though he knew he should get up to check the equipment, there was a brief instant in which all he could do was stare at the spot where the ghosts of Cedar Creek had made their appearance.
Fraud, honest mistakes, and coincidence were the most common explanations for events regarded as supernatural, and up to this point, every one of Jeremy’s investigations into such events had fallen into one of these three categories. The first tended to be the most prevalent explanation in situations where someone stood to profit somehow. William Newell, for instance, who claimed to find the petrified remains of a giant on his farm in New York in 1869, a statue known as the Cardiff Giant, fell into this category. Timothy Clausen, the spirit guide, was another example.
But fraud also encompassed those who simply wanted to see how many people they could fool, not for money, but just to see if it was possible. Doug Bower and Dave Chorley, the English farmers who created the phenomenon known as crop circles, were one such example; the surgeon who photographed the Loch Ness Monster in 1933 was another. In both cases, the hoax was originally perpetrated as a practical joke, but public interest escalated so quickly that confessions were rendered difficult.
Honest mistakes, on the other hand, were simply that. A weather ballon is mistaken for a flying saucer, a bear is mistaken for Bigfoot, an archaeological find is discovered to have been moved to its current location hundreds or thousands of years after its original deposition. In cases like these, the witness has seen something, but the mind extrapolates the vision into something else entirely.
Coincidence accounted for nearly everything else and was simply a function of mathematical probability. As unlikely as an event might seem, as long as it is theoretically possible, it more than likely would happen sometime, somewhere, to someone. Take, for instance, Robert Morgan’s novel Futility, published in 1898—fourteen years before the Titanic sailed—which told the story of the largest and grandest passenger liner in existence that sailed on its maiden voyage from Southampton, only to be ripped apart by an iceberg, and whose rich and famous passengers were largely doomed in the icy North Atlantic because of a lack of lifeboats. The name of the ship, ironically, was Titan.
But what happened here didn’t fall neatly into any of those categories. The lights struck Jeremy as neither fraud nor coincidence, and yet it wasn’t an honest mistake, either. There was a ready explanation somewhere, but as he sat in the cemetery in the rush of the moment, he had no idea what it could be.
Through it all, Lexie had remained seated and hadn’t said a word. “Well?” she finally asked. “What do you think?”
“I don’t know yet,” Jeremy admitted. “I saw something, that’s for sure.”
“Have you ever seen anything like it?”
“No,” he said. “Actually, this is the first time I’ve ever seen anything that even remotely struck me as mysterious.”
“It is amazing, isn’t it?” she said, her voice soft. “I’d almost forgotten how pretty it could be. I’ve heard about the aurora borealis, and I’ve often wondered whether it looked like this.”
Jeremy didn’t respond. In his mind’s eye, he re-created the lights, thinking that the way they’d risen in intensity reminded him of headlights of oncoming cars as they rounded a curve. They simply had to be caused by a moving vehicle of some sort, he thought. He looked toward the road, waiting for passing cars, but not completely surprised at their absence.
Lexie let him sit in silence for a minute and could almost see the wheels turning. Finally, she leaned forward and poked him in the arm to get his attention again.
“Well?” she asked. “What do we do next?”
Jeremy shook his head, coming back to her.
“Is there a highway around here? Or another major road?”
“Just the one you came in on that runs through town.”
“Huh,” he said, frowning.
“What? No ‘ah’ this time?”
“Not yet,” he said. “I’m getting there, though.” Despite the inky darkness, he thought he could see her smirking. “Why do I get the impression that you already know what’s causing them?”
“I don’t know,” she said, playing coy. “Why do you?”
“It’s just a feeling I get. I’m good at reading people. A guy named Clausen taught me his secrets.”
She laughed. “Well, then, you already know what I think.”
She gave him a moment to figure it out before she leaned forward. Her eyes looked darkly seductive, and though his mind should have been elsewhere, he again flashed on an image of her at the party and how beautiful she had been.
“Don’t you remember my story?” she whispered. “It was my parents. They probably wanted to meet you.”
Perhaps it was the orphaned tone she used when she said it— simultaneously sad and resilient—but as a tiny lump formed in his throat, it was all he could do not to take her in his arms right then and there, in the hope of holding her close forever.
Half an hour later, after loading up the equipment, they arrived back at her house.
Neither of them had said much on the way home, and when they reached her door, Jeremy realized that he’d spent far more time thinking about Lexie as he drove than he had about the lights. He didn’t want the evening to end, not yet.
Hesitating before the door, Lexie brought a hand to her mouth, stifling a yawn before breaking into an embarrassed laugh.
“Sorry about that,” she said. “I’m not normally up this late.”
“It’s okay,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I had a great time tonight.”
“So did I,” she said, meaning it.
He took a small step forward, and when she realized he was thinking of trying to kiss her, she pretended to fiddle with something on her jacket.
“I suppose I should call it a night, then,” she said, hoping he took the hint.
“Are you sure?” he asked. “We could watch the tapes inside, if you’d like. Maybe you could help me figure out what the lights really are.”
She looked away, her expression wistful.
“Please don’t ruin this for me, okay?” she whispered.
“Ruin what?”
“This . . . everything . . .” She closed her eyes, trying to collect her thoughts. “Both you and I know why you want to come inside, but even if I wanted you to, I wouldn’t let you. So please don’t ask.”
“Did I do something wrong?”
“No. You didn’t do anything wrong. I had a great day, a wonderful day. Actually, it’s the best day I’ve had in a long time.”
“Then what is it?”
“You’ve been giving me the full-court press since you got here, and we know what’ll happen if I let you through that door. But you’re leaving. And when you do, I’ll be the one who’s hurt afterward. So why start something you have no intention of finishing?”
With someone else, with anyone else, he would have said something flippant or changed the subject until he figured out another way to get through her door. But as he looked at her on the porch, he couldn’t form the words. Nor, strangely, did he want to.
“You’re right,” he admitted. He forced a smile. “Let’s call it a night. I should probably go find out where those lights are coming from, anyway.”
For a moment, she wasn’t sure she’d heard him correctly, but when he took a small step backward, she caught his eye.
“Thank you,” she said.
“Good night, Lexie.”
She nodded, and after an awkward pause, she turned toward the door. Jeremy took that as his signal to leave, and he stepped off the porch as Lexie took her keys from her jacket pocket. She was sliding the key into the door when she heard his voice behind her.
“Hey, Lexie?” he called out.
In the fog, he was nothing but a blur.
“Yes?”
“I know you may not believe it, but the last thing I want to do is hurt you or do anything that would make you regret that we’ve met.”
Though she smiled briefly at his comment, she turned away without a word. The lack of response spoke volumes, and for the first time in his life, Jeremy was not only disappointed in himself but suddenly wished he were someone else entirely.
True Believer True Believer - Nicholas Sparks True Believer