“You don’t have to—” said Jane.
“Yes, I do,” Walter said. “It’s something I should have said a long time ago.”
Jane’s heart fluttered wildly. All of a sudden she felt not like a woman of 234 but like a girl of 18. All of her years of experience disappeared in an instant. Lifetimes no longer mattered. Walter was about to break her heart as if it were the very first time.
“I love you,” Walter said.
Jane stared at him.
“I know you don’t want to hear that,” said Walter. He was speaking quickly, stumbling over his words in an uncharacteristically anxious way. “I know I’m probably going to scare you off. But it’s true, Jane. I do love you. And if that frightens you, then I can accept—”
“I love you too,” said Jane, stopping him.
He looked at her for a long time. “You do?”
Jane nodded. “I do,” she repeated.
Walter opened his mouth, then closed it again. He repeated this several times.
“You’re looking a bit like a fish,” Jane teased.
“I’m afraid if I talk I’ll wake up,” said Walter.
Jane took his hand in hers. “You won’t wake up,” she said. “Unless, of course, you mean in my bed in the morning.”
Walter stood up, pulling Jane to her feet. He took her in his arms and kissed her for a long time. When he broke away he continued to hold her against him. She looked into his eyes, seeing in them everything she’d been longing for.
“Jane Fairfax,” Walter said, “are you propositioning me?”
“Yes, Walter Fletcher,” said Jane. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”
Walter kissed her again. “It’s about time,” he said, taking her by the hand and leading her toward the stairs.
Acknowledgments
Many thanks to Liz Scheier (for starting it), Caitlin Alexander (for finishing it), Mitchell Waters (for championing it), John Scognamiglio (for loaning me out), and Patrick Crowe and the Fur People (for everything else).
About the Author
Michael Thomas Ford is the author of numerous books, including the novels
