Chapter 31
NORA
Jude and I spend the morning recuperating on our own—I have a bath and a nap, and I suspect Jude must have done the same, because when he knocks on my door, his hair is damp and he looks fresh and sparkly.
He gives me a hug and a kiss so soft and sweet it takes my breath away.
We linger a moment too long, then we’re entangled in each other’s arms, our clothes coming off piece by piece.
Later, we lay sprawled on my bed with my laptop and a few images we’ve printed off.
Jude rubs his thumb on my bare thigh as we go over everything Eleanor.
And I try not to get too hung up on the fact that this might be the last time we do this.
“So,” Jude says, recounting what we’ve just gone over, “James and Eleanor had not just a love affair at George Cleary’s cottage in Switzerland, but a love child.” He pushes back his index finger.
“Who they named Clea,” I agree.
He counts off his middle finger next. “And the sisters put her up for adoption.”
“Correct.”
He adds his ring finger. “And someone came looking for Clea thirty years ago at the convent, but Sister Ilsa didn’t know what they were told.”
“Yes.”
“That’s it.”
I sigh again, closing my eyes and leaning back on the pillow. “Is that it then? Do we pass this all onto the police and give up on finding anything new ourselves?”
“We could,” Jude says. “Or we could convince Griff to help us going forward.”
My heart clenches. “Jude, we’re going home, remember?”
Jude takes my hand in his, threading his long fingers through mine and holding our joined hands against his chest. “We don’t have to decide what to do about what we’ve learned yet.”
He doesn’t acknowledge what I’ve said. But I realize it doesn’t matter. I need to say goodbye to Eleanor and James’s story, and I need to say goodbye to Jude, too.
“You know what I think?” I ask, my throat thick.
“What’s that, baby?”
“You know how George Cleary was an asshole with mistresses everywhere and warehouses full of people he underpaid and overworked?”
Jude nods.
“He cheated, lied, and boozed his way into bankruptcy, and he murdered his so-called wife when he found out she sought refuge in the arms of his driver, who’d been in love with her for years.”
Jude meets my eyes, waiting.
“I think maybe they got married in that cottage. I think when she died, her heart belonged to James.”
“Is that enough for you? Don’t you want to know what happened to him? And Clea? And how do we know it was George who killed her?”
“We’re out of time, Jude. Maybe it’s enough for us to know they were in love.
That Eleanor and James’s descendants are out there somewhere, living and breathing.
” My throat is thick suddenly with unshed tears.
It’s Eleanor’s story that had me starting this adventure with Jude years ago, but it’s James’s that’s become mine.
“Jude,” I say softly. “What’s going to happen tomorrow?”
Jude’s eyes linger on mine a moment, then he looks away. “We’re going to hang out with Cap and maybe Farrah. Then we’ll pack for the train the next day.”
“Then what?”
“Then we’ll take you back to London and we’ll…” Jude swallows. “We’ll catch our plane.”
“Right,” I whisper.
“Nora, I don’t know what to say,” Jude says, threading his hand through mine. “I keep everything light and happy because, well, you’ve seen me when I don’t. It’s ugly.”
“There’s nothing about you that’s ugly, Jude.”
He scoffs. “You’re the one person who knows that’s not true.”
“Jude…” I meet his eye. “You could consider letting up on yourself, you know. I know how you are around other people, and I know who you are when no one’s looking. More now on this trip than ever before. Both of them are the Jude I know and love. You showed me all of you and I’m still here.”
I hesitate. I swallow down the tears threatening to rise. I want to tell him it’s more than just love the way he thinks I mean it. I’m this close to saying the words that float around me every time I’m near him. I’m in love with you, Jude. I’ve been in love with you what feels like my whole life.
But he’s not there yet. Maybe he never will be.
My heart feels as heavy as lead. But my mind—my mind is strangely clear.
I thought that would be the bravest thing I could ever do—to tell Jude how I feel about him.
But now I know I was wrong. The bravest thing I can do is to let myself love Jude Kelly and know that’s enough.
I won’t fill in the blanks for him. And I won’t fill in that empty space in his life if he doesn’t love me back.
The thought that this feeling will always go unrequited hurts—it nearly shatters my life—but it won’t define me.
I’m going to keep taking risks whether Jude’s there or not. Because look how good it gets when I do?
I smile, leaning over and kissing my best friend on the cheek.
“I’m going to go, Jude.”
He sits up straight. “This is your room—I’ll go.”
“I mean, I’m going to leave. Tonight, if I can. I’m going to head back to London early. I have something I need to do. I’ll text Farrah to see Cap again before you guys go. But it’s time for me to go home.”
Jude looks stricken, so I cup his cheek. “It’s okay, Jude. I’m not upset with you.”
Jude stands up, following me to our adjoining door like a lost puppy dog. It’s almost enough to get me to forget the plans percolating in my mind.
Almost.
Jude rubs his hand against his chest. “I don’t want you to go.”
“Do you want to be together with me? For real?”
Jude grips his shirt, anguish on his face. “I don’t know, Nor.”
My heart hurts, more than it did when I left. But when he looks at me almost wincing, I smile, rising up to kiss him on the cheek.
I remember in that moment how he’d turned his face the last time I did this. How he’d given me a kiss that sparked it all. But this time I don’t feel unsure. I feel a clarity I never felt before in my life. I hold open the door for him.
“It’s okay, Jude. We’ll be okay.”
Downstairs half an hour later, Gunther is working at the little stand by the entrance.
“You are leaving?” he asks me, looking crestfallen.
“Yes. Can you get me a car, Gunther?”
“Of course, miss, there is one outside now that will take you to the station.” He makes a snapping motion and some hand symbol that must mean “to the train,” and in a few seconds flat, the driver is loading my luggage into the trunk.
Gunther stands next to the door, looking forlorn.
I smile at him. “Is there a girl in your life, Gunther?”
“I—”
“Someone you like?”
Gunther blushes and looks down, making me think the answer is yes.
“Tell her, okay? Tell her now. Be with her if she’ll have you. Have fun, and don’t wait around being too scared to do anything until it’s too late and you make a fool of yourself.”
His brows bunch together. “Miss, are you okay?”
I sound unhinged.
“I’ll be fine,” I say. Then I rise up on my toes and kiss his cheek.
I’m clutching Gunther’s shoulders, but I’m looking into the hotel, to the room next to the empty one that was mine.
I look to the man inside, who maybe I’ll one day get over, but who’ll hold the biggest piece of my heart till the day I die, when I say the word, “Goodbye.”
I text Farrah from the train, telling her what’s going on and asking her to tell Cap so he won’t be too upset.
This is the part I know is not ideal, but I can’t hang around the hotel with Jude right there beside me.
I’ll be too liable to slip, to tell him I’ll take him anyway he wants.
And I won’t do that anymore. Besides, the three of them need some time on their own, to see how it fits.
Farrah responds in only a minute. They must be at the inn.
FARRAH: Don’t worry, I will tell Cap. We will call you when we are back. Please let me know if you need anything at all.
She’s a good person. I wonder, briefly, if Jude had gotten his shit together back then if he might have entertained a relationship with her?
It’s neither here nor there.
I have a few hours before I arrive back in London—enough time to write up a rough draft of my Love and Loss submission proposal. By the time I get home, I’ll have just enough time to polish it off and get it in by the 11:59 p.m. deadline.