“Yes. The best moments I’ve ever had have been with you.”

She kissed his lips, a gentle pressure that eased the heartache he felt. “We came for a picnic on the beach, and you’re sad. Tell me why.”

“I found you here, rolling in on the waves, a corpse that came alive in my arms.”

“You saved my life. Now you’re responsible for it.” She poked him playfully. “So they say.”

“You, everything about you, makes me happy.” He looked out at the rock that thrust its way from the cliff into the water and there faced the crashing waves. “But on the day the fog carried you to me, I was walking out there. I was headed to oblivion.”

She didn’t understand. “Oblivion? Where is...?” Then she did understand. “Suicide?” She sat back on her heels and looked out at the ocean, then back at him, and he could see her choosing words with care. “You wouldn’t want to do that. Drowning was the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced, and I can tell you, until you’ve lost it, you don’t understand how sweet and rare life is.”

He could hardly contradict her. She had been where he had not: to death and back. Beneath all the joy and light-hearted laughter, this woman was not a frivolous creature. She had faced challenges—still faced challenges—that he could barely comprehend.

“Do you believe in fate?” she asked him.

“No.” Fate was an intangible, created by people who sought hope.

“Well,” she said as she tucked her hand in his, “if you did, I would point out that had you thrown yourself into the sea, two people would have died—permanently—that day.”

“Yes. That’s true.” A hopeful thought, one he hadn’t previously considered.

“You keep trying to tell me you’re older and wiser. Yes, you look tons older and you’re probably wiser, but I’m younger and smarter.”

She laughed so much, he thought she must laugh now.

But her face was intent; her voice was sure. “What I know is, you have to take the life you’re given and shape it, moment by moment, into an existence that keeps you busy and makes you happy. Being with you makes me happy. But being with me seems to make you unhappy. And the closer we get, the more time we spend together, the unhappier you seem to be. Can you tell me why?”

“People...die.”

“Yes. They do. I know that. But since you dragged me out of the ocean, two wonderful things have happened to me. I got to know you, and I remembered my mother.” Elle concentrated all the strength of her clear determination on him. “Adam, do you have any family?”

Somehow, she’d sifted through this conversation, or maybe through all the conversations, and come up with the right question.

“No.”

“Did you ever have family?”

She was getting close. “Just my parents.”