Ken awoke, as from a vivid daydream which, no sooner done, was quickly fading. He shook his head, feeling somewhat displaced, and looked to his left. There was Linda, sweetest Linda, softly crying. He felt the urge to rise and leave; it was for the best. He wasn’t ready for serious commitment, and he was sure neither was she. They had their careers to think about, their whole futures to plan. It was just the wrong time, simply the wrong time.

As he struggled to rise, to run away from the woman he loved, whose quiet, soft sobbing tore at his heart with unstoppable waves of guilt and regret, he looked at her again, one last time, noting the gentle features of her face, half hidden by her hands, and the softness of her fresh, long hair tossed about her. He was frozen for an instant, unable to move, to decide what to do next, to follow his instinct and run away, or . . . . He reached out to her, gently pulling back her hair from her face, staring into her large, caramel-brown eyes, and gently pulling her towards him.

“I’m sorry, love. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me. I’m just so damned confused, so tired of waiting for things to fall into place. I love you so very much that it just scares the hell out of me.”

“I’m scared too,” she said softly, tremulously through her tears. “But please don’t throw our love away out of fear. It is the only real thing we’ll ever have.”

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He held her close and felt his past resolve melting away. He smiled, then laughed, holding her closer, feeling more foolish than confused.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, kissing her lightly. Tomorrow would be another day. He didn’t know what it might bring, but he knew she’d be a part of it. How could he have ever thought otherwise?

They held each other like two small children, huddled against the fear of a quickly passing storm, basking in the warmth of a deep, strong, young, growing love.

* * *

Dan heard the metallic sound of the door opening behind him opening and knew that his escort would soon arrive. He studied his friend’s face intently, looking for some sign, some tangible evidence to lift his sagging heart. As he heard footsteps behind him, he found it. Dan smiled, at first merely a twitch, but then quite broadly, his mouth moving slowly but making no perceptible sound. He moved closer and put his ear next to his friend’s mouth, straining to hear, hoping for further confirmation, praying for a sign.

“I Love you, Linda. I will always love you. Always,” came the nearly imperceptible whispered words of unmistakable import. He gently touched Dan’s shoulders and held them for a moment, tears of joy and hope glistening in his eyes.

“Let’s go, Sergeant,” he said, handing the man the envelope Dan had left for him. “We have much work to do and very little time.”

“Yes Sir,” the man retorted, then, looking at Ken queried with concern: “Is Dr. Leyans all right?”

“He will be, Sergeant. He will be, now.”