What would she say to him after all these years? What would he say to her? The last time they’d been together he’d asked her to marry him; they’d never seen each other again. He’d known her so well then, enough that he hadn’t stuck around to be told no. But they’d loved each other. With the wisdom of time and the passing of years, she knew that. She knew, too, that love didn’t evaporate. It faded, perhaps, lost its weight like bones left out in the sun, but it didn’t go away.

It occurred to her suddenly, sharply, that she wanted to be in love. Like Johnny and Kate. She wanted not to feel so damned alone in the world.

She faltered only once as she walked toward him. Out of the shadows and into the sunlight.

And there he was, standing in front of her, the man she’d never quite been able to evict from her dreams. She said his name aloud, too quietly for him to hear.

He looked up and saw her, his smile fading slowly. “Tully?”

She saw his mouth move and felt him say her name, but just then a dog barked and a pair of skateboarders rumbled past her.

And then he was moving toward her. It was like every movie she’d ever seen, every dream she’d ever had. He pulled her into his arms and held her.

Too soon, though, he let go of her and stepped back. “I knew I’d see you again.”

“You always had more faith than I did.”

“Almost everyone does,” he said, smiling. “So how are you?”

“I’m on CBS. I do—”

“Believe me,” he said gently, “I know. I’m proud of you, Tully. I always knew you’d get to the top.” He studied her for a long time, then said, “How’s Katie?”

“She married Johnny. I hardly see them lately.”

“Ah,” he said, nodding as if a question had been answered.

She felt exposed by his glance. “Ah, what?”

“You’re lonely. The world isn’t enough after all.”

She frowned up at him. They were standing so close that the merest move would be a kiss, but she couldn’t imagine crossing that small distance. He looked younger than she remembered, more handsome. “How do you do that?” she whispered.

“Do what?”

“Dad, watch this!”

As if from far away, Tully heard the girl’s voice. She turned slowly around, saw two young women roller-skating toward them. She’d been wrong before; they were older than teenagers. One was the spitting image of Chad—sharp features, black hair, eyes that crinkled when she smiled.

But it was the other woman who held her attention. Maybe thirty, thirty-five, with a bright smile and a ready laugh. She wore the colors of a tourist: brand-new jeans, thick pink cable-knit sweater, aqua-blue hat and gloves.