A few minutes later, he walked over to the bed with her. He felt a little guilty as they undressed. He had planned to take her to dinner, and spend some time talking to her before they made love, but neither of them wanted to be around people or in a restaurant. They just wanted to be alone with each other and what they felt. They didn't even need words.

He kissed her with gentleness and passion as they lay on the bed, and as he undressed her, he realized how hungry for her he had been. Much to his own surprise, there had been no one else. In the ten months that they'd been apart, he hadn't wanted anyone but her. And Kate only wanted him.

She was embarrassed when she left him to go to the bathroom for a few minutes, and he didn't ask her about it until long after they had made love, and lay in each other's arms, sated and quiet, and drifting in their isolated, safe, little world. And feeling shy about it, she told him about the diaphragm, and he seemed relieved.

“I worried about that for months after last time,” he said honestly. “I kept wondering what we'd do if you got pregnant. I couldn't even have come back to marry you,” he said, and she was touched by his words. It was nice to know he thought that way, and had been concerned for her. She had had no idea how he'd react, and she felt safe enough now to tell him what had happened to her.

“I got pregnant last time, Joe,” she said in a soft voice, as he held her close. Her head was on his shoulder, and her hair was brushing his cheek. And he turned his head to look at her.

“Are you serious? What did you do about it?” He looked as though a lightning bolt had just hit them both. It had long since slipped his mind, she'd never said anything to him, and it had never dawned on him that they might have a child by then. “Or… do we … did you…” She smiled at the look on his face. It wasn't so much fear as astonishment. And he wanted to know why she had never told him. She grew immeasurably in his eyes when he realized that, whatever had happened, she had handled it on her own.

“I lost it in March. I didn't know what to do, but I knew that if something happened to you, I'd never forgive myself if I'd done anything about it. I had to have it, if that was meant to be. I was almost three months pregnant when I lost it,” she said, and there were tears in her eyes as she told him. He tightened his grip wordlessly around her.

“Do your parents know?” He could easily imagine that they were furious with him, and justifiably so. He felt guilty as hell knowing what she'd been through.

“No, they don't,” she reassured him, snuggling closer to him. Whatever comfort he hadn't been able to give, he was offering her now. “I was going to leave school in April, and tell them then. There was nothing else I could do. I got hit by a kid riding a bicycle, and I guess that started it. He hit me pretty hard, and it knocked me out. I lost the baby that night.”

“Were you at the hospital?” He looked horrified. This had never happened to him before, although it had happened to many of his friends. But he'd never gotten a girl in trouble before, and he'd always been careful, except with her.

“I was at school, but two of the girls in my house took care of me,” she said discreetly, and spared him the details. She knew he would have been even more upset if he had seen the state she'd been in. It had taken months to feel like herself again. She had lost so much blood, it took a long time to get fully back on her feet. But she was fine by then. Joe was amazed too by the thought that if the pregnancy had come to full term, they would have had a one-month-old child. It was mind-boggling to him.

“You know, it's funny. I thought about it for a long time. I kept thinking you were going to tell me that had happened. I don't know why, but when I got back to England, it was all I could think about, I was so sure. But you never said anything, and I didn't want to ask. I didn't know if anyone reads your mail at school. And then I guess I forgot about it. But for a couple of months, I just had this weird feeling. Why didn't you tell me, Kate?” He looked sad that she hadn't, but he understood. And he admired her for it, more than she knew. She had handled it all herself, and recovered from it, seemingly with no bitterness toward him. He was grateful for that, and touched by how brave she had been. He could sense by the way she spoke of it, that it had been hard for her, in a number of ways.

“I thought you had enough to worry about, without adding that.” He nodded, and pulled her even closer to him.

“It was my baby too.” It would have been, and she was sorry all over again. There was nothing she wanted more than to be with him, and have his child, but it hadn't been meant to be, so far at least. And given what was happening in their lives, it seemed to be for the best, even to her, and surely to him. “I'm glad you're being careful now.” He had brought prophylactics with him too this time. He didn't want to be irresponsible with her, and take a risk. And the last thing he felt they needed was a child to complicate their lives.

They talked about the war for a while then, and she asked him how long he thought it would go on. He sighed as he answered her. “It's hard to say. I wish I could say it'll be over soon. I don't know, Kate. If we pummel the hell out of the Krauts, maybe a year.” That was part of why he was going to Washington, to see if they could speed up the pummeling with some extraordinary new planes. It had been discouraging so far, the Germans just kept coming at them relentlessly in waves. No matter how many Germans the Allies killed, or how many cities and factories and munitions dumps they destroyed, they always seemed to have more. They were a seemingly indestructible machine.

And the war in the Pacific hadn't been going well. They were fighting a people from a culture and on a terrain that was completely unfamiliar to them. Kamikaze planes were bombing aircraft carriers, ships were being sunk, planes were being shot down. And by the fall of 1943, Allied spirits were low.

It seemed to Kate these days that an incredible number of people she knew had died. It was devastating. A number of boys she had met at Harvard and MIT in the past two years were already gone. She was just grateful that nothing had happened to Joe.

They talked a lot that night, which was unusual for him, but they had so little time, so much pulling at them. They didn't have time to unwind, to warm up, to coast along. They just had to be there, and be all they could, in the little time they had. And for the rest of the evening, they both tried not to think about the war.

They made love again late that night, and never went out. They ordered dinner in the room, and the room service waiter asked if it was their honeymoon, and they both laughed. They never spoke of the future that night, or of any plans. All she wanted for him was to stay alive. She couldn't think of what she wanted for herself, she just wanted to be with him, when and where she could, for however long. More than that was like asking for a miracle at this point, a childish dream. She knew her mother wouldn't have approved of it, but she didn't understand. An engagement ring on her finger wouldn't have changed anything, and it wouldn't have kept him alive. And Joe asked nothing of her, except what Kate wanted to give of her own free will, and to the best of her abilities, she gave it all.

They both slept fitfully that night, holding each other and then drifting apart, and waking with a start when they realized that it wasn't a dream, and they were really together.

“Hi,” she said sleepily, as she smiled and opened an eye early the next morning. She had felt his warmth next to her all night, and she could feel his strong powerful legs next to her as she stretched, and he leaned over and kissed her. The night he had spent with her had been a far cry from what he was used to now.

“Did you sleep all right?” he asked, and put an arm around her as she snuggled closer to him. They were lying on their backs, whispering. She loved waking up next to him.

“I kept feeling you next to me, and thinking I was dreaming.” Neither of them was accustomed to sleeping with anyone next to them, and it had kept them from sleeping deeply, no matter how happy they were together.

“So did I,” he smiled, and thought about their love-making the night before. He wanted to savor every moment he spent with her and take the memory of it with him.

“What time do you have to leave?” she asked, with a sad edge to her voice. It was impossible to forget that these were only borrowed hours.

“I have to be on a plane to Washington at one o'clock. I should drop you off at school around eleven-thirty” She had cut all her classes that morning, and she wouldn't have cared about the consequences, nothing would have made her leave him earlier than she had to. “Do you want breakfast?” She wasn't hungry, except for him, and within minutes, as they kissed and his hands began to wander, they found each other again.

At nine o'clock they got up and ordered breakfast. When room service came, they had showered separately, and were wearing the hotel's terrycloth robes. They had orange juice and toast, and ham and eggs, and shared a pot of coffee. It was beyond lavish to Joe, who had been living on military rations for so long he had almost forgotten what real food was. To Kate, it was far more ordinary, but what wasn't was the sheer joy of looking at him across the table. His almost stern, sharply chiseled face looked beautiful to her as he sat drinking his coffee and reading the paper for a minute. And then his eyes moved toward hers, and he smiled.

“Just like real life, isn't it? Who'd know there's a war on.” Except the newspaper was full of it, and none of it sounded good. He put the paper down and smiled across the table at Kate. They had shared a wonderful evening, and whenever he was with her, it was like finding the missing piece of him. It was as though there was a void in him he was never aware of, until he saw her. The rest of the time, other things seemed to fill it. He wasn't a person who needed a lot of people. But this one woman in particular touched him deeply. As few had in fact, or any. He had never known anyone quite like her. It struck him again as he sat across the table, looking at her. Her eyes were so deep and so powerful, there was something so direct and open and unafraid about her. She was like a young doe sniffing the air, and liking what she sensed. She always looked excited about life, and as though she were about to burst into laughter, and this morning was no different. As she put her coffee cup down, she was suddenly grinning at him.