“Define ‘universal.’”
“Oh, my father, Mrs. Summers, Mr. Wang, and a few others who have known me for a while.”
Well, he could pummel Mr. Wang, at any rate. He’d have to see how old her father was.
“I know you don’t believe it Alex, but—”
“What I believe is not an issue at present,” he stated with a swiftness that amazed her.
He was willing to put aside his own beliefs in order to better understand her own. The selflessness of that small act humbled her.
“Unless I am mistaken,” he continued, “and please correct me if I am, you believe that falling in love comes with a price of misfortune equal to its worth. Am I correct?”
“Yes!” she cried, relieved that he appeared to comprehend how serious the matter was to her. “And because this is the best thing, the absolute best thing that could ever happen to me, or anyone, imagine what the cost will be! I don’t know that I could afford it. Something must be done.”
Alex didn’t care for the sound of that.
He closed the distance between them in two long strides. Cupping her face between his strong hands, he leaned down until their foreheads rested against each other.
“What are you proposing, Sophie? Will you leave me?” The question came out rather strangled.
She flinched. “I don’t know,” she choked out.
He brushed his thumbs along her temples. “I love you. I love you with my heart, my body, my every breath. If I lost you, my life would be nothing, an endless waking nightmare. You said you loved me too. Is it not the same for you?”
She nodded. “Yes.”
“And if you walked away from this, what would be a sufficient compensation for that kind of pain, Sophie? What could make up for the loss of what we have?”
She was silent for a moment, lost in thought. “Nothing,” she finally whispered with a touch of surprise in her voice. “Nothing could make up for losing you.”
“So why go?”
She didn’t appear to hear him. Her head turned to the side and her eyes darted back and forth across the room unseeingly. She was still mulling over what he had said. “It couldn’t be balanced,” she said with growing wonder. “It couldn’t even itself out.”
“Perhaps love is like life and death,” he suggested. “Maybe it has its own rules.”
“Maybe, I—” As quickly as her face had begun to lighten, it dimmed.
“What?” Alex prompted urgently. Dammit, they’d been so close. “What is it?”
“It can balance out if I stay,” she whimpered in disappointment. “If I stay…I could lose you.”
Alex groaned. She was not going to lose him. Anymore than he planned on losing her.
“I don’t know what to do, Alex.”
“I know darling, I know, but we’ll figure something out. Just—”
Alex’s head snapped up suddenly. “What is the average life span for a gently reared British woman?”
She blinked at him. “What? What are you—?”
He dropped her face and began pacing the room. “Never mind, doesn’t matter, let us say fifty for now. Sound reasonable?”
“I suppose….”
“Right. Fifty. And you are now, five-and-twenty, correct?”
“Yes,” she said slowly, having no idea where the conversation might be headed.
“Excellent. That gives you a quarter-century to live, give or take a couple months. With your history you’re bound to live right up to the average, wouldn’t you say?”
“I suppose so.”
“Excellent. Excellent. That, in turn, gives you twelve years, six months with me, and twelve years, six months without.”
He stopped and at looked at her expectantly. She just stared back.
“As I see it, Sophie, you have two options. You could stay and give me the pleasure of making you deliriously happy for the next twelve and a half years, believing there could be twelve and half years of heartache to pay for it. Or, you can forgo the happiness altogether and spend the next five-and-twenty years alone and miserable, with the knowledge that you have made me miserable as well.”
She still didn’t speak, but she no longer looked quite so confused.
“Can you think of an alternative, Sophie?”
Finally she swallowed and spoke. “You could leave me,” she answered.
“That is not going to happen. Besides, the results for you would be the same, wouldn’t they?”
She nodded, looking torn.
“Stay,” he urged, taking a step towards her.
She searched his face with her eyes, and then searched her own heart. What he said made sense. A decade and more of bliss followed by a decade of misery was a damn sight better than a lifetime of pain with nothing to show for it.
“Stay, Sophie,” he pleaded taking another step. Then another. “Give me the twelve years.”
A small smile tugged at the corner of her mouth, before blooming into a full-fledged grin.
“And six months,” she reminded him.
He gathered her into his arms. “And six months,” he agreed.
Epilogue