He thought about what she'd said and felt her hand lingering on his, her thumb
tracing slow circles.
"Allie, you asked me earlier what I remembered most about the summer. What do
you remember?"
It was a while before she answered. Her voice seemed to come from somewhere
else.
"I remember making love. That's what I remember most. You were my first, and it
was more wonderful than I ever thought it would be."
Noah took a drink of bourbon, remembering, bringing back the old feelings again,
then suddenly shook his head. This was already hard enough. She went on.
"I remember being so afraid beforehand that I was trembling, but at the same time
being so excited. I'm glad you were the first. I'm glad we were able to share that."
"Me too."
"Were you as afraid as I was?"
Noah nodded without speaking, and she smiled at his honesty.
"I thought so. You were always shy like that. Especially in the beginning. I remember
you had asked if I had a boyfriend, and when I said I did, you barely talked to me
anymore."
"I didn't want to get between the two of you." "You did, though, in the end, despite
your professed innocence," she said, smiling. "And I'm glad you did."
"When did you finally tell him about us?"
"After I got home."
"Was it hard?"
"Not at all. I was in love with you."
She squeezed his hand, let go, and moved closer. She put her hand through his arm,
cradling it, and rested her head on his shoulder. He could smell her, soft like the
rain, warm. She spoke quietly:
"Do you remember walking home after the festival? I asked you if you wanted to see
me again. You just nodded your head and didn't say a word. It wasn't too
convincing."
"I'd never met anyone like you before. I couldn't help it. I didn't know what to
say."
"I know. You could never hide anything. Your eyes always gave you away. You had
the most wonderful eyes I'd ever seen."
She paused then, lifted her head from his shoulder, and looked directly at him.
When she spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. "I think I loved you more
that summer than I ever loved anyone."
Lightning flashed again. In the quiet moments before the thunder, their eyes met
as they tried to undo the fourteen years, both of them sensing a change since
yesterday. When the thunder finally sounded, Noah sighed and turned from her,
toward the windows.
"I wish you could have read the letters I wrote you," he said.
She didn't speak for a long while.
"It wasn't just up to you, Noah. I didn't tell you, but I wrote you a dozen letters
after I got home. I just never sent them."
"Why?" Noah was surprised. "I guess I was too afraid." "Of what?"
"That maybe it wasn't as real as I thought it was. That maybe you forgot me."
"I would never do that. I couldn't even think it."
"I know that now. I can see it when I look at you. But back then, it was different.
There was so much I didn't understand, things that a young
girl's mind couldn't sort out."
"What do you mean?"
She paused, collecting her thoughts.
"When your letters never came, I didn't know what to think. I remember talking to
my best friend about what happened that summer, and she said that you got what
you wanted, and that she wasn't surprised that you wouldn't write. I didn't believe
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