Later that night while he wrestled with his thoughts in a sleepless bed, Henry wondered if—in spite of what he suspected would happen—going to see the vicar was still the right course of action. His months of courting Amala had convinced him that they were indeed meant to be together, that their love could withstand the persecution. But Amala was no more convinced now than she had been when they’d met. And if she was never going to change her mind, then he was just wasting his life away waiting for something to happen that never would. His heart felt so broken at the very idea that he could hardly breathe. But he didn’t want to be alone. He wanted to marry a fine woman and have children and lead a normal life. And if Amala wasn’t willing to share that life with him, he’d be a fool to keep hoping for what was hopeless.

Henry could never add up the hours he’d spent praying that he and Amala could be together, that her heart would be softened, that she would be willing to commit herself to him and know that he would do everything in his power to make up for the sacrifices she would be making. It occurred to him just before dawn that perhaps his idea to speak with the vicar had been an answer to his prayers. Perhaps God was guiding him to a path that would illustrate to him—without question—that it was time to move on. Now he could only pray that God would help heal his broken heart. He had a sick feeling that today would be the official ending of his relationship with Amala, and since no one had known he’d ever shared anything more than friendship with her, no one would be able to understand his grief. There would be no one to talk to about it, no one to confide in. Perhaps Everett, he thought. But how much time could he spend loitering around the carriage house pouring his heart out to a man who preferred to be alone?

Henry finally rose from a sleepless night feeling like a man going to the guillotine—except that he believed death might be preferable. Instead he had to go on living and do his best to find a life without Amala. At this moment, the very idea was impossible to comprehend.

* * * *

Amala informed her family at lunch that she wanted to have Everett drive her to the church. She felt the need for some solitude and prayer. She avoided their polite inquiries over what the problem might be and assured them she was fine and there was nothing anyone could do. She simply needed some time alone.