My heart warmed at his sincerity, but even more at the sight and feel of our interwoven hands. They were a reminder of all we’d survived together, of the many ways our lives were inexplicably joined and, above all, of how much I never wanted that to end.

Besides, given the night behind us, how could we ever go back?

Swayed beyond doubt, I smiled and replied with a single life-altering word. “Yes.”

Chapter 26

In the morning sunlight, I awoke to a note on the bedside table.

You were too peaceful to wake. Helping a factory

pal lay a roof. We’ll tell my parents over supper.

—Your loving husband-to-be

I’d have relished the surreal, endearing sign-off if not for the mention of his parents. A half-panicked survey of the room assured me Arie’s clothes were no longer strewn about. Then I recalled that the couple wouldn’t be back until evening. Thank heavens.

Still, how would they take the news? Their sustained introduction of me as “Arie’s friend” affirmed they never viewed me as a daughter. Yet after they’d cared for me like family, any romance between Arie and me could strike them as wrong—and, either way, his mother could easily rule me an inadequate match. At best, a distraction from his goals. She reliably did the same with any other girl who’d shown interest. Even after seven years of my living with the woman, though sufficiently kind, she upheld a fair degree of distance.

In fact, over the years, I’d overheard her cite an old Dutch saying: Where two religions share a pillow, the Devil sleeps between.

Despite all our praying and churchgoing together, perhaps his parents still saw me as far too different.

And Papa—would he have felt the same?

The daunting possibilities mounted until I rolled onto my side, and from my pillow, I caught a scent. Closing my eyes, I breathed Arie in, and with him a wave of tranquility. I could feel him curled up behind me, could hear him whispering that he loved me and that if I loved him, the rest were merely details.

At the thought, everything but the promise of him, and us, fell away.

***

Practically floating, I ventured out of the house midmorning to buy ingredients for supper. A traditional Dutch meal for Arie’s parents just might cushion the shock of our announcement. And anyway, it couldn’t hurt.

In line at the market, as I waited to give the shopkeeper a list of items to fetch from the stockroom, visceral flashes of the prior night swept through me. I fought off a grin, conscious of the ladies chatting before me in the queue. I hoped they wouldn’t notice the telling flush of my face. Not that it arose from shame, as being with Arie felt the opposite of sinful; it was from giddiness. Sheer bliss.

A frivolity I was about to regret.