Daniel took me to Thomas, now elderly and seriously ill. The young soldier I remembered had returned from captivity in 1973, fallen in love with his nurse, and married her after she became pregnant. He admitted he had chosen silence out of shame and fear of disrupting his new life. Worse, he had told his parents that I knew he was alive and wanted no contact. While I waited for answers, he let that lie stand.
When Thomas suggested another chance, I refused. His suffering during the war was real, but it did not excuse the choices he made afterward. I asked Daniel to take me to the memorial, where I placed my rose and kept our photograph. Then I joined Ruth for dinner and told her I wanted to see the ocean. I could honor the love I once felt without surrendering another year to a promise he had broken.
