“Is Mr. Mickelson in?” Anne asked. Her tongue felt thick; forming the words was a struggle.

The secretary quirked her mouth, pushed her chair back from her desk. “I suppose for you he is,” she said, rising and walking over to the closed door of Harry’s office. She knocked.

A moment later, the door flew open, and Harry stood there. “I told you not to—” he began, but when he saw Anne, his anger faded to astonishment. “Anne!” he said.

He drew her into his office, closed the door behind them. “Anne,” he said again.

“Hello, Harry,” she said, feeling unsteady on her feet. She had nearly forgotten the endearing curve of his mouth, the line of his nose, his messy hair. His tie was loosened and he hadn’t shaved. He looked tired. Perhaps even as tired as she. She wanted to throw her arms around him and weep, but she stood still, and waited nervously while he looked her over.

After a moment, he ran his hand over his hair. “Well, I see you’ve got me speechless, Miss Wallace,” he said. “I was beginning to think I’d never see you again.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I really am, Harry.”

“Cripes, Anne. You’ve been putting me through the wringer over here, you know? It’s been a month, and nothing. I really thought I’d seen the last of you. And the worst part was, I didn’t know why.”

She took a step toward him. “I’m so sorry.”

“Tell me why.”

“Oh, Harry,” she said, and she felt her face crumple. “I can’t. I can’t explain. I just—I needed some time. I didn’t know what to do.”

“You left your ring on the table at my mom’s house.”

“I was afraid.”

“Was it JJ? Did he tell you something about me? Something that made you doubt me?”

She looked down at her hands. “No.”

“What was it, then, Anne? I know I shouldn’t have left you alone that night, but I got so caught up with my dad—”

“It wasn’t your fault, Harry. I guess I just—got scared. I’m sorry.”

“I just wish you would have talked to me.”

She took a deep breath. “Please, Harry, forgive me. I’ve come here to—”

“What?”

“To beg you. To marry me, Harry. Please. Forgive me. I want to marry you.”

He looked skeptical, but the corner of his mouth twitched into a little smile.

“Please,” she said, her heart racing. “I just—needed some time to be sure.”

“You’re sure now?”

“Yes.”

He stepped toward her, slowly reached up and touched her face. Her knees nearly gave way.

“I love you, Harry,” she said. “Always, I have.”

“I wouldn’t have minded just waiting, you know.”