“And tear the child in half. You couldn't live with yourself, and you know it as well as I do. No more than I could live with myself if I left Armand. We're decent people, you and I. We have consciences and responsibilities, and other people we love. It's different for people who aren't like us, Nick. They can walk off and wave good-bye. We can't. I know you can't, and neither can I. If you didn't care about Johnny so much, you'd have left your wife years ago. But you didn't. And I can't let you do that now, for us.” He nodded. And she sighed softly. “Besides, it's not that simple for me.” Her voice dropped down to a whisper. “I still love Armand.” Tears filled her eyes, and she looked away as Nick watched her.

“What will you do now, Liane?” He took her hand and stroked her arm, his eyes locked in hers. He almost wished that they could turn the ship around and start again, but he knew it couldn't be done. They had to move ahead, no matter how painful it was. “What happens to you?”

“I wait for the war to end.”

“Alone?” He ached for her. She was a woman who needed a man, to give all the love she had to give, and there was so much love in him that he wanted to give her.

“Of course alone.” She smiled.

“Do you suppose …” An idea crossed his mind. It had occurred to him before in the past few days, but he hadn't known how she would react. But almost as soon as she heard his opening words, she shook her head.

“I couldn't do that. If we let this go on for a long time, we would never be able to let go. It's only been less than two weeks and I can barely let go now.” She could already feel her flesh and soul being torn from his and it was more than she could bear as she held on to his hand tightly. “In a year or two it would be worse, unbearable.” She sighed as she looked at him. “I think, my friend, that the time has come for us to be strong, as strong as you say we are. We have no choice. We fell in love. We've had two weeks. A miracle … a lifetime in itself that I will remember all my life, but there can't be more, for either one of us.” Her voice began to crack and tears slowly filled her eyes. “And when we leave the ship today, my love, we must look ahead, and never look back … except to remember how much we loved each other and to wish each other well. …”

There were tears in his eyes now too. “Could I call you from time to time?”

She shook her head no and then with a sob that flew from her like a small injured bird, she threw herself into his arms, and he held her that way for an hour, fighting back his own tears as he lay awash with hers. There was simply no other way to do what had to be done. The bond they'd formed had to be cut, and it would be as painful for them as it had been for the man they had watched in the dining room a week before, when the doctors had cut off his hand.





There were shouts of joy on the deck as the Statue of Liberty appeared, the sun glinting on her torch on a hot July day, and shortly after that, the tugboats came to the Deauville's side and they sailed into the harbor of New York. Fireboats joined the procession they made and shot streams of water in the air, and when they reached the dock, the ambulances were lined up in rows to take the wounded off the ship. Immigration proceedings had been waived, and the Deauville tied up at the dock as cameras flashed and journalists attempted to interview anyone they could.