But it wasn’t always like that, at least not in the beginning. It was later that I was overwhelmed by the big black shame. An invalid and a constant remainder of their sacrifice, I would stand out at the nice parties in the community.

As welcome as a zit on your nose.

So I had left her. For the simple reason that I did not think it was “fitting” that she would be dragged down by me, the freak. Because I loved her so much that I wanted her to be happy with another man.

Because with me, it never would have worked, right?

If I had left that decision to her, so much could have been different.

“… and no shadow will fall on you my boy. We always knew it was a long shot. ”

Another long silence on the line all the way to Virginia. Without warning, the cry began to rise from my chest and I did not understand where it came from. I desperately tried to push it back. For the old man I wanted to maintain the facade. I blinked a couple of times and tried to compose myself.


“Yes sir …”

I managed to keep the voice under control but only barely.

“Rendezvous” is Peter Stein’s third book.