I said nothing.
George continued.
“Then he asked me if I loved you.”
“What did you tell him?”
George gave a faint smile.
“I said yes.”
“And then?”
He paused.
“He said, ‘Then don’t wait. Marry her. But don’t marry her out of pity. Don’t promise me anything unless you’re willing to choose her every single day.’”
My eyes filled with tears.
But I still didn’t understand why George had been so afraid to tell me.
“Then what’s the secret?”
He lowered his gaze to his hands.
“The secret is that I had already decided to leave town.”
I stared at him.
“What?”
“I had been offered a job in another state. I was supposed to leave a week later. We had only been together for eight months. I loved you, but I was afraid of marriage. I kept telling myself that we were young and that maybe the distance would help us figure out what we really wanted.”
I felt my chest tighten.
“So, if my father had never called you…”
“I probably would have left.”
The room became completely silent.
That one sentence hurt me more than I expected.
For fifty-four years, I had believed that George had chosen me without hesitation.
