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the first person who had ever made her feel like herself, the first person who had ever loved her for who she really was. With him, she could let down her guard, drop the mask, be the person she had always been beneath the surface. She had fallen in love with him, deeply and completely. She had believed that he felt the same way, that they would find a way to be together, that love would conquer all. She had believed that they were meant to be, that fate had brought them together, that nothing could tear them apart. But love, she learned, was not always enough. He had told her the truth one night, sitting on the banks of the creek where they had first kissed. The moon had been full, casting silver light across the water, and the air had been thick with the sound of crickets and the scent of honeysuckle. He had been quiet for a long time, staring at the water, his face pale and troubled, and she had known that something was wrong. "I have to leave," he had said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. "I have to leave, and I can t take you with me." She had felt her world shatter. "Why? What s wrong?" He had looked at her then, his blue eyes filled with pain. "There are things about me that I haven t told you," he had said. "Things that would put you in danger. I can t stay here. I can t put you at risk." She had begged him to explain, but he had refused. He had told her that he loved her, that leaving was the hardest thing he had ever had to do, but that it was the only way to keep her safe. He had told her that he would always love her, that he would never forget her, that she had changed his life in ways she couldn t imagine. "When you love someone," he had said, "you have to be willing to let them go." She hadn t understood then. She had been too angry, too hurt, too desperate. She had screamed at him, cried, begged him to stay. She had told him that she didn t care about the danger, that she would rather be with him than be safe, that love was worth the risk. But he had been adamant. He had held her tightly, kissed her forehead, and walked away into the darkness. She had watched him go, her heart breaking into a thousand pieces, and she had never seen him again. She had told him she was pregnant before he left. He had held her tightly, his body shaking with silent sobs. He had begged her to forgive him, to understand, to take care of herself and their child. He had promised that he would find her, that he would come back for her, that they would be together again. She had believed him. She had believed that he would come back, that they would be together, that everything would work out in the end. She had clung to that belief like a lifeline, a beacon of hope in the darkness. But he never came back. CHAPTER THREE: THE MAN WHO LEFT James had been a mystery to Ruth from the very beginning, a man who seemed to carry secrets as naturally as other men carried wallets. He had never spoken about his past, never mentioned his family, never given any indication of where he had come from or what he had left behind. He had