The Longest Ride

a fierce challenge in the way she waits.

“I told you that the engagement was off, and that it was over between us.”

She arches an eyebrow. “Yes,” she says, “that is what you told me.”

“I couldn’t talk to you then. I was…”

When I trail off, she finishes for me. “Angry.” She nods. “I could see it in your eyes, but even then, I knew you were still in love with me.”

“Yes,” I admit. “I was.”

“But your words were still hurtful,” she says. “I went home and cried like I had not since I was a child. And my mother finally came in and held me and neither of us knew what to do. I had lost so much already. I could not bear to lose you, too.”

By this, she means her family, the family that had stayed behind in Vienna. At the time, I didn’t realize how selfish my actions were or how Ruth might have perceived them. This memory, too, has stayed with me, and in the car, I feel an age-old shame.

Ruth, my dream, knows what I am feeling. When she speaks, it is with a new tenderness. “But if it was really over, I wanted to understand the reason, so the next day, I went to the drugstore across from your shop and ordered a chocolate soda. I sat next to the window and watched you as you worked. I know you saw me, but you did not come over. So I went back the next day and the day after that, and only then did you finally cross the street to see me.”

“My mother made me go,” I admit. “She told me that you deserved an explanation.”

“That is what you have always said. But I think you also wanted to come, because you missed me. And because you knew that only I could help you heal.”

I close my eyes at her words. She is right, of course, right about all of it. Ruth always did know me better than I knew myself.

“I took a seat across from you,” I say. “And then, a moment later, a chocolate soda arrived for me.”

“You were so skinny. I thought you needed my help to get fat again. Like you were when we met.”

“I was never fat,” I protest. “I barely made weight when I joined the army.”

“Yes, but when you got back, you were all bones. Your suit hung from your frame like it was two sizes too big. I thought you would blow away as you crossed the street, and it made me wonder whether you would ever be yourself again. I was not sure you would ever again be the man I once loved.”

“And yet you still gave me a chance.”

She shrugs. “I had no choice,” she says, her eyes glittering. “By then, David Epstein was married.”

I laugh despite myself, and my body spasms, neurons blazing, nausea coming at me. I breathe through gritted teeth and gradually feel the wave begin to recede. Ruth waits for my breathing to steady before going on. “I admit that I was frightened about this. I wanted things between us to be the way they had been before, so I simply pretended that nothing had changed. I chattered about college and my friends and how much I had studied, and that my parents had surprised me by showing up at my graduation. I talked about my work as a substitute teacher at a school around the corner from the synagogue, but also mentioned that I was interviewing for a full-time position that fall at a rural elementary school on the outskirts of town. I told you also that my father was meeting with the dean of the Art History Department at Duke for the third time, and that my parents might have to move to Durham. And then I wondered aloud whether I would have to give up my new job and move to Durham, too.”

“And I suddenly knew I didn’t want you to go.”

“That is why I said it.” She smiles. “I wanted to see your expression, and for just an instant, the old Ira was back. And then I was no longer frightened that you were gone forever.”

“But you didn’t ask me to walk you home.”

“You were not ready. There was still too much anger inside you. That is why I suggested that we meet once a week for chocolate sodas, just like we used to. You needed time, and I was willing to wait.”

“For a while. Not forever.”

“No, not forever. By the end of February, I had begun to wonder whether you would ever kiss me again.”

“I wanted to,” I say. “Every time I was with you, I wanted to kiss you.”

“I knew that, too, and that was why it was so confusing to me. I could not understand what was wrong. I could not understand what was holding you back, why you did not trust me. You should have known that I would love you no matter