“You’re feeling better, I see,” he said at last.

“Slowly,” she admitted.

“Dare I guess that your malady is entirely my fault?”

“More accurately my own fault,” Amala said, looking down.

Following an awkward pause that made it evident Henry might not entirely agree but didn’t know how to comment on that, he said, “Paulina is delightful.”

“She is,” Amala said eagerly, appreciating the change of subject. Although she herself jumped right back into it when she confessed, “My aunt has a way of helping me put things in perspective; she’s helping me pull myself back together.”

“That’s good, then,” Henry said. And another lengthy pause stretched out before he added, “I must apologize, Amala, for any grief I’ve caused you. It was never my intent.”

Amala fought back tears. “It is I who must apologize, Henry,” she said, managing to look at him. “It was never my intention to lead you on with false hope. I just . . . got carried away with my feelings, but . . . I was so unfair to you. I pray that one day you can forgive me.”

“There’s nothing to forgive, Amala,” he said with such sincerity that she couldn’t hold back her tears. “I too got carried away with my feelings. A part of me will always wish that everything we shared could have gone on forever, but I do respect your position. I just . . . want you to know . . . need you to know . . . that a part of me will always love you.”

“You mustn’t think that way, Henry,” she said, looking away again. “You must . . . let go and find someone who can share a real and complete life with you. You deserve every possible happiness.”

“I appreciate the sentiment, Amala; I do. But right now I can’t even comprehend that being possible. I just need you to know that I’m not harboring any ill feelings toward you over any of this. I want there to be peace between us, and I don’t want you to feel as if you have to hide when I spend time with your family. I miss you. Surely at the very least we can be friends.”

“I’d like to think so,” she said. “I just . . . might need a little more time.”

“I understand,” he said, and there was another taut silence.

“Amala,” he finally went on, “I have one favor to ask of you.”

Her curiosity urged her to look at him, then she wished she hadn’t when the love and adoration in his eyes was so evident. But perhaps part of making peace with all of this was facing both his feelings and hers and accepting what had to be in spite of them.

“What is it?” she asked, not willing to make any promises until she knew what he might ask of her.