They took pictures of the mountains, and joked that it was a good thing that photography did not contribute to geographical degradation, as there would be nothing left if it did!
They stayed until the call for the last trip down in the gondola was called. It was getting dark. They went to the hot springs, and split off to go into the change rooms. He was in the pool first, waiting for her to come out of the change room. She wore a simple blue swimsuit, one piece, but enough of a tease for him to be even more intrigued than he already was.
She spotted him as she waded into the pool, and sat down beside him. He put his arm along the side of the pool, and casually draped it around her shoulders. He pulled her to his side, and gently kissed the top of her head. "These past few days have been wonderful," he told her warmly.
"For me too," she exclaimed, surprised at the fact that it was true.
"Tell me about your husband." He urged her to open up to him.
"Hmm, Michael was a wonderful man. He was a doctor, and we met when we were in University. I was in nursing, and he in medicine. He wanted nothing more than to be a doctor, and when I finished my degree, we got married, and I worked while he finished his degree."
"You put him through school then."
"It's not what it seems, it's easy to do, when you love someone, and we loved each other. He was kind, and gentle, and tender. He was a wonderful physician. His patients loved him. He had a large practice, and I worked occasionally in the office."
"How long were you married?"
"Twenty years, beautiful years."
"Any children?"
"No, I couldn't conceive. It was a loss for both of us, because we both wanted a family. We considered adopting, but then Michael got sick, and my focus was on him. At that point, we wouldn't adopt, and well, now, I don't want to raise a child alone."
She was silent for a bit, as she looked away, caught up in memories. He gave her the time she needed, until she could continue with her story.
"Michael had leukemia, and the treatment for it, nearly killed him. The chemo is so hard on the body, but we got him into remission, and while we were waiting for the bone marrow transplant, he relapsed, and that was the beginning of the end. More chemo, and he continued to endure that, until he said he couldn't take any more. I pleaded with him, to keep trying, but I knew then that it was useless. I took him home, and nursed him at home. I held him in my arms, weeping when he died. His last words, were I love you."
"That was very hard for you, I can tell," he empathized with her pain. He saw she continued to mourn the loss of her husband. The man who could help others get well, but not himself.
"Yes, I think a part of me died with him. He was the first man I had ever loved. That first day, when you said, I looked like I lost my best friend, I had. I haven't had the gumption to date, or be with another man since Michael's death. You are the first man, I have even let this close to me."
"Why do you suppose that is?", he asked her.