One Way

Tomorrow’s the last day of our summer in Switzerland, after weeks in the Alps, the Rhine, and of enough chocolates to last lifetimes.

Tonight, though, was my last chance to make her reconsider.

I stuttered and stammered; she just smiled.

“I know.”

Her eyes welled with the pain, the misery, and the inoperable torture that had made this spring — and the recent years — the worst of her life.

“Please,” she didn’t have to say.

My sorrows gushed out.

I reconsidered.

We relished.

Tomorrow’s our last day here, our last together anywhere.

This summer, though, would last forever.