The Echo of Old Books

by Barbara Davis

He shakes his head, his eyes bleak and hollow. “All these years, I’ve wondered if it could have ended differently. I’d remember how it was between us, all the things we were going to see and do, and think maybe there was a way to get that back. That’s why I showed up last night. To see if there was a chance. And then today, for one mad instant, when I kissed you and you kissed me back, I thought there might be. Now I see that we’ve missed it. Zachary was our chance. After all the what-ifs, all the years apart, he was our way back. We might have salvaged something of the life we’d planned. But not now. And the worst part is this time there’s no one else to blame. The letter, the story—someone else did those things. Saboteurs, you called them. But you did this. You were the saboteur.”

oof!