Nicholas Sparks - A Bend in the Road

Miss Harkins closed her eyes, as if telling the story had drained her. For a minute she didn’t move, and Sarah and Miles sat frozen in place, afraid to break the spell. Then she finally opened her eyes again and reached for her tea. After saying good-bye, Miles and Sarah descended the porch steps and returned to the gravel path. Miles took Sarah’s hand again as they approached the street. As if still under the spell of Miss Harkins’s story, neither Miles nor Sarah said anything for a long while.

“I’m glad we went there,” Sarah finally offered.

“So you liked it?”

“All women love romantic stories.”

They rounded the corner and neared Front Street; ahead, they could make out the river between the homes, gliding silently, shining black. “Are you ready for something to eat?”

“In a minute,” he said, slowing down, then finally stopping. She looked at him. Over his shoulder, she could see moths fluttering around the glowing street lamp. Miles was staring into the distance, toward the river, and Sarah followed his eyes but didn’t see anything out of the ordinary. “What is it?” she asked.

Miles shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He wanted to start walking again but found he couldn’t. Instead he took a step toward Sarah, pulling her gently toward him. Sarah followed his lead, her stomach tightening. As Miles leaned toward her, she closed her eyes, and when their faces drew near, it was as if nothing else mattered in the world.

The kiss went on and on, and when they finally pulled apart, Miles embraced her. He buried his face in her neck, then kissed the hollow of her shoulder. The moisture of his tongue made her shiver, and she leaned into him, savoring the safe harbor of his arms as the rest of the world went on around them.

A few minutes later they walked back to her apartment, talking softly, his thumb moving gently over the back of her hand.

Once inside, Miles draped his jacket over the back of the chair as Sarah made her way to the kitchen. He wondered if she knew he was watching her. “So what’s for dinner?” he asked.

Sarah opened the refrigerator door and pulled out a large pan covered in tinfoil. “Lasagna, French bread, and a salad. Is that okay?” “Sounds great. Can I give you a hand with anything?”

“It’s pretty much done,” Sarah answered as she put the pan in the oven. “All I have to do is heat this for a half hour or so. But if you want, you can start the fire. And open the wine-it’s on the counter.”

“No problem,” he said.

“I’ll join you in the living room in a few minutes,” Sarah called out as she headed for the bedroom.

In the bedroom, Sarah picked up a hairbrush and began to pull it through her hair.

Much as she wanted to deny it, their kiss had left her feeling a bit shaky. She sensed that tonight was a turning point in their relationship, and she was scared. She knew that she had to tell Miles the real reason for the collapse of her marriage, but it wasn’t easy to talk about. Especially to someone she cared about.

As much as she knew he cared about her as well, there was no telling what his response would be or if it would change his feelings about being with her. Hadn’t he said that he wished that Jonah had a brother or sister? Would he be willing to give that up?

Sarah found her reflection in the mirror.

She didn’t want to do this now, but she knew that if their relationship was to go any further, she would have to tell him. More than anything, she didn’t want history to repeat itself, for Miles to do what Michael had done. She couldn’t go through that again.

Sarah finished brushing her hair, checked her makeup through force of habit, and, resolving to face Miles with the truth, began to leave the bedroom. But instead of heading out the door, she suddenly sat on the edge of the bed. Was she really ready for this?

Right now, the answer to that question frightened her more than she could say.

By the time she finally emerged from the bedroom, the fire was blazing. Miles was returning from the kitchen, carrying the bottle of wine. “Just thought we might need this,” he said, lifting the bottle a little higher.

“I think that’s probably a good idea,” Sarah agreed.

The way she said it seemed off somehow to Miles, and he hesitated. Sarah made herself comfortable on the couch, and after a moment, he put the wine on the end table and sat beside her. For a long time, Sarah simply drank her wine in silence. Finally Miles reached for her hand.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

Sarah gently swirled the wine in her glass. “There’s something I haven’t told you yet,” she said quietly.

Miles could hear the sound of cars as they rolled past her apartment. The logs in the fireplace popped, causing a shower of sparks to ascend the chimney. Shadows danced on the walls.

Sarah pulled one leg up and crossed it beneath her. Miles, knowing she was collecting her thoughts, watched her in silence before giving her hand an encouraging squeeze.

It seemed to bring her back to the present. Miles saw the flames flickering in her eyes.

“You’re a good man, Miles,” she said, “and these last few weeks have really meant a lot to me.” She stopped again.

Miles didn’t like the sound of this and wondered what had happened in the few minutes that she was in the bedroom. As he watched her, he felt his stomach begin to clench.

“Do you remember when you asked me about my ex-husband?”

Miles nodded.

“I didn’t finish the story. There was more to it than just the things I told you, and… and I don’t know exactly how to say it.”

“Why?”

She glanced toward the fire. “Because I’m afraid of what you might think.” As a sheriff, a number of ideas occurred to him-that her ex had been abusive, that he’d hurt her somehow, that she’d left the relationship wounded in some way. Divorce was always painful, but the way she looked now suggested there was much more to it than simply that.

He smiled, hoping for some response, but there was nothing. “Listen, Sarah,” he finally said, “you don’t have to tell me anything you don’t want to. I won’t ask about it again. That’s your business, and I’ve learned enough about you in the past few weeks to know what kind of person you are, and that’s all that matters to me. I don’t need to know everything about you-and to be honest, I doubt that whatever you’d say would change the way I feel about you.”

Sarah smiled, but her eyes refused to meet his. “Do you remember when I asked you about Missy?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Do you remember the things you said about her?”

Miles nodded.

“I remember them, too.” For the first time, she met his eyes. “I want you to know that I can never be like her.”

Miles frowned. “I know that,” he said. “And I don’t expect you to-” She held up her hands. “No, Miles-you misunderstand me. It’s not that I think you’re attracted to me because I’m like Missy. I know that’s not it. But I wasn’t very clear.”

“Then what is it?” he asked.

“Do you remember when you told me what a good mother she was? And how much you

both wanted Jonah to have siblings?” She paused but didn’t expect an answer. “I can’t ever be like that. That’s the reason Michael left me.” Her eyes finally locked on his. “I couldn’t get pregnant. But it wasn’t him, Miles. He was fine. It was me.”

And then, as if driving the point home, in case he didn’t understand, she put it as plainly as she could.

“I can’t have children. Ever.”

Miles said nothing, and after a long moment, Sarah went on. “You can’t imagine what it was like to find out. It just seemed so ironic, you know? I’d spent my early twenties trying not to get pregnant. I used to panic if I forgot to take my birth control pills. I never even considered that I might not be able to have children.”