I often wondered what might have been if we’d met under different circumstances. These past few months had given me glimpses of it. Long walks across the fields, his hand in mine; baking pączki together and filling the balls of sweet fried dough with strawberry jam; sitting in the tall grass and watching the sunset, serenaded by chirping crickets, his arm around my waist, my head on his shoulder. Each moment, I almost felt like one of those girls I once passed on my walk to and from Birkenau. The kind of girl I might have been. I had believed that our time together would continue, perhaps would take us to Warsaw for breakfast at the Hotel Bristol café, followed by a walk down the Krakowskie Przedmieście and past Saint John’s Archcathedral. Now the moments were coming to an end, taken by a play I hadn’t foreseen.

I wasn’t ready to lose either one—our future moments or my plans.

“One more thing,” Mateusz said, and he handed me an envelope. “A response to the last letter you wrote me.”

As quickly as my concerns flared, they receded when he placed the envelope in my palm. Although we’d kept exchanging letters during the past few months, I didn’t have to open this one to know that it wasn’t from Mateusz.

It was from him. I felt it in every fiber of my being.

“I had a feeling you wouldn’t fall for it,” Mateusz said, grinning. “My contact brought it to me today, and since you’re leaving tomorrow, the timing couldn’t have been better. But even if I’d had to do so from America, I would have made sure you received that letter.”

I ran my fingers over the unbroken seal. “My thanks isn’t enough, Maciek.”

“Open it. Your peace of mind is waiting inside that envelope.”

“Later.” I took his hand and gave it an appreciative squeeze, erasing the bemused furrow in his brow. “Will you stay for dinner?”

“I can’t. I have the night shift at the hospital.”

“Then you’ll come by tomorrow morning before we leave for Warsaw, won’t you?”

His gaze softened. “As soon as my shift is over.”

I nodded and wrapped my arms around him, holding on to the strength of his embrace, the reassuring beat of his heart, his small sigh as he tightened his grasp. I clung to him, all of him. To one of our last moments.

When we released each other, Mateusz returned to his bicycle and rode away toward town. I watched him go, though it required significant effort to wait until he was out of sight. The envelope burned in my hand like the sting of the whip against my flesh.