"You can't, dear. It's far too dangerous. If any harm should come to you, I couldn't live with myself."
"Please, you have to let me go. I don't want to lose you."
"You won't, my darling. I'll come back to you. I promise." He took her head off his shoulder to look her in the eyes. "I won't ever leave you. No matter what happens, I'll always be with you in your heart. I love you."
"I can't lose you. I won't have anything without you. Please, stay with me. Let someone else go."
"I couldn't ask someone else to take my place. This is something I must do for all of us. Please try to understand."
"What about your duty to me? Don't I matter? Don't you care about what I want?"
"It's because of you I'm doing this. So you won't have to go through another war. So we can raise our family in peace."
"We won't have a family if you go. Stay with me. We can leave right now, tonight, and find a quiet place all to ourselves where we can be happy."
"I'm sorry, dear, but I must do this. I hope someday you'll be able to understand." He let go of her and then pulled on his boots. "I'm going to check around the camp to see if Molly's been about. I shouldn't be gone too long."
After he left, she pressed her face into a cushion on the bed. He was going and she couldn't say anything to change his mind. He was going and he wouldn't ever come back. I've lost him, she thought. I've lost him forever.
She felt the cushions next to her where he would sleep tonight for the last time. She breathed in his musky aroma, trying to keep some part of him with her. She closed her eyes and breathed it in again-
She's walking alongside the road from Wessenshire home with a basket full of cloth from Mr. Applegate's shop. She hears hooves beating behind her and steps off to the side of the road to let the horseman pass. Instead of going by, the hoof beats slow to match her pace. Panic rises up within her as the horse continues to follow her. It's him! she thinks. He's come back after thirteen years for her.
"Hello there," a man's voice says, but it's not his. This voice is deeper, slow and sad like a man used to rejection.
She turns around to see a very tall man riding an old mare. The man's cloak is threadbare around the edges and his boots splattered with mud. He touches the brim of his hat so that she can see his brown eyes that remind her of a puppy she once owned. "Can I help you, sir?" she asks.