Man-woman relationships -- Fiction; Science fiction; Short stories; Space flight -- Fiction
His head seemed to swim, and his unsteady feet fumbled with the floor as
he came to her.
"You could have told me. I'd have loved you, I'd have loved you anyway."
"Would you?" Her face turned away from him as he came to her. "Would
you, Whit? Would you have stayed alive for a broken girl like me? Would
you have waited out your trip for the sake of a cripple in a wheel
chair? I know you, Whit, I know your heart and your soul, and I know
you'd have never loved me if I had told you what I was from the
beginning."
Whit didn't speak, and Suzy continued.
"It was a job for me, Whit. I had to bring you down. I lied to you and I
deceived you, and now you're free, and you can go away, to live a better
life than I can give you."
"Suzy, you're saying that. You've thought it out, and you've written it
down, and it's what you planned to say to me. Is it the truth, Suzy?"
"Whit, go away. I've said my piece. I've turned you loose. Now go! Go
away, and don't ever come back to me again."
Whit's body seemed to straighten up, and he put his little green package
down on the desk in front of her, then moved away.
"Open it up, Suzy. It's a gardenia that I brought you. Sick or well,
crippled or sound, I'll bring you another every day, until you say you
love me."
Then he went away.
Suzy rose slowly, kicking the rug from her knees. She folded the wheel
chair into a compact bundle, and stretching up on her toes, put it back
on the highest shelf in the closet. Quietly, she put her hat and coat
on, and went out of the office, locking the door behind her. The click
of her high heels echoed bravely in the silence as she felt her way
along the vacant hallway.
"Sheila, Sheila, come to me, girl," she called.
The big German shepherd shook herself as she rose from her bed beside
the doorway, and with the practiced skill of years brought the handle of
her harness beneath her mistress's groping hand.
Suzy knelt beside the big dog, and put her arms around her furry neck,
weeping softly into the thick fur.
"Sheila, Sheila, I think he's going to marry me!" she said.
THE END
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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