Lone Eagle Part 20

She tried talking to him, but he was sick of hearing it, and being made to feel guilty, and she was tired of his being gone. She loved him more than she ever had, but the last couple of years had taken a toll on both of them. Her accident the year before had ripped them apart, and they'd found their way back to each other again, but the same spark wasn't there anymore. She was thirty-three years old, living with a man she never saw. And he was forty-five, at the height of his career. She knew she had another twenty years of it, and it would get worse, maybe even a lot worse, before it got better. He had opened up new vistas in aviation, and was adding more routes, designing even more extraordinary planes, and he seemed to have less and less time for her. She didn't want to complain about it anymore, but three weeks in six months didn't give them enough time. No matter how good his reasons were, and they were most of the time, he just wasn't there.

"I want to be with you, Joe," she said sadly when he came home for a few days in June. It was an all too familiar refrain. She wanted to find a compromise so they could be together more, but Joe had too much on his mind to discuss it with her. He was more involved in his business than ever, rather than less, and he liked it that way. He was on his way to London the next day. He didn't tell her that for the rest of the year, he would be traveling even more. The fight seemed to have gone out of both of them.

It wasn't about doing battle, but accepting what they had. And other than the feelings they'd had for each other for sixteen years, they never had enough time together anymore to enjoy each other, or build anything. He had long since stopped trying to push her into traveling with him. The kids were still small, and needed her, and she hated leaving them. Reed was six, and Stephanie was almost four, and Joe knew that for another fifteen years or so, she was going to have a hard time leaving them. From what he could see, as he looked ahead, they were going to be pulled apart a thousand ways for another fifteen or twenty years. Their lives were going separate ways, and no matter how hard she swam to keep up with him, or how much he cared, they were so far apart most of the time, they couldn't even see each other anymore.

She came to California to see him in July, and she brought the kids. She took them to Disneyland, and Joe took all of them up in a fabulous new plane that had just been built. But halfway through their trip, Joe had to leave for Hong Kong for an emergency. He flew straight to London from there, and Kate took the children to the Cape. Joe didn't come to Cape Cod at all that summer. He couldn't stand her mother anymore, and told Kate bluntly that he wasn't going there again. And they came home earlier than usual that summer, because her father got very sick.

Joe seemed to be on the go constantly, and it was mid-September before their paths crossed again, and he actually came home to spend three weeks in New York. But when she saw him this time, she knew something had changed. At first, she thought it was another woman, but after the first week he'd been home, she realized it was something far worse. Joe just couldn't do it anymore. He couldn't have the career he wanted and worry about her. In the end, he had chosen to escape. The price of loving her, or anyone, was simply too great.

He had been swept away by the tides of his career, the airplanes he had built had taken over the industry all over the world. The airline he had started eleven years before was the biggest and most successful of its kind. Joe had created a monster that had devoured both of them. He knew he had a choice at that point, the world he had created for himself, or her. And the moment she knew that, and looked in his eyes, she felt an icy chill in the air. The worst of it was that she knew he still loved her, and she still felt everything she ever had for him, but he had flown so far away from her that there was no way for her to reach him again. If he wanted her, he had to find a way to bring her with him. And he had figured out several months before that it wasn't possible. No matter how much he loved her, he just couldn't do it anymore. He felt too guilty leaving her all the time, seldom seeing her, explaining it, apologizing, and never being there for her kids. It was why, he realized, instinctively he had never wanted children of his own, and was actually relieved when she lost the twins. He couldn't have it all, he had discovered, and more than that, he couldn't give Kate what she needed or what she deserved.

He had been thinking about it all summer, and when he saw her in New York, it nearly tore his heart out, but he knew he was sure. The answer had been a long time coming because the questions were too hard. If she had asked him if he still loved her, he would have had to say he did. But her mother had called it correctly from the beginning. And so had he. In the end, Joe's first love was his planes. And what he had wanted from Kate, and to share with her, had been an impossible dream.

It took him days to say it to her, but finally he did. The night before he left for London, to acquire a small airline there, he saw Kate lying next to him in their bed, and knew he could never come back to her again. He would rather have shot her than say the words to her, but if for no other reason than that he loved her, he knew he had to free himself, and her.

"Kate." She turned to him as he said her name, and it was as though she knew before he spoke. She had seen something terrifying in his eyes for three weeks, and had done everything she could not to provoke him this time. She had tried to stay small and stay away from him, and not anger him. They hadn't had a fight in months. But it had nothing to do with fighting, or not loving her. It had to do with him. He wanted more in his life than he was willing to share with her. He had nothing left to give. In sixteen years of loving her, he had given what he had, or could. The rest of what was left he wanted for himself. And he no longer wanted to apologize or explain or have to comfort her. He knew how abandoned she felt when he was gone, but he no longer cared. Meeting her needs and his own was just too much work for him.

Kate turned to look at him without saying a word. She looked like a deer that was about to be killed.

He took a breath and plunged. It was never going to be better saying it to her some other time. It could only get worse. There would be Thanksgiving and Christmas, and their anniversary, and holidays he didn't even know or care about, and then the summer and Cape Cod again. He had been married to her for three and a half years, and as it turned out, it was all he wanted from her, and all he wanted to give. He had been right from the first, he didn't want to be married or have kids, even hers, much as he had come to love them. But he didn't love any of them enough to stay with them. All he really needed and wanted in his life were planes. It was easier and safer for him. With only planes in his life, he would never get hurt. His own fears were greater than his need for her.

"I'm leaving you, Kate," he said so softly that she didn't hear him at first. She just stared at him, thinking she had misheard the words. She had felt something coming for days, and she thought it was something like a long trip he was afraid to tell her about, but she had never expected this.

"What did you just say?" She felt crazy for a minute, as though the whole world had spun out of control. He couldn't possibly have said what she thought she just heard. But he had.

"I said I'm leaving you," he couldn't look at her as he said it, and she stared at him. "I can't do this anymore, Kate." As he said it, he looked back at her again, and he almost cringed when he saw the look in her eyes. It was the same look he had seen in the hospital in Connecticut when she discovered her babies had died. And probably the look on her face as a child when her father committed suicide. It was a look of total devastation, and the ultimate abandonment. And he felt wracked with guilt again doing that to her. But rather than making him feel closer to her, his own guilt drove them further apart.

"Why?" It was all she could say. She felt as though a scalpel had just sliced right through her heart. It was as though he had pulled it right out of her and dropped it on the floor. She could hardly catch her breath. "Why are you saying this to me? Is there someone else?" But she knew even before he answered her that it was about something much more profound than that. Something he didn't want and had never wanted to have. He had everything he had ever wanted now, just as she had the day she married him. And only one of them was going to get to keep the gift life had given them. The gift she had given him from her heart was one he no longer wanted from her. It was as simple as that. For him.

"There's no one else, Kate. There isn't even us anymore. You were right. I'm gone all the time. The truth is I can't be here. And you can't be with me." The real truth was he wanted his life to himself. He wanted work and not love. The price he had to pay for love was too high for him. He had to allow himself to feel, and he didn't want to feel anything.

"Is that what this is about? If I could be with you, would you want to stay married to me?" She was frantically thinking about sharing the kids with Andy equally. Whatever it took, even if it meant giving up time with them, she didn't want to lose Joe. But he was slowly shaking his head. He had to be honest with her. It was all they had left. He was trading honesty for love.

"It's not that, Kate. It's about me, and who I want to be when I grow up. Your mother was right. And I guess I was too. The planes come first. Maybe that's why she always hated me so much, or distrusted me, because she knew that this was who I really am. I've been hiding it from both of us, mostly from myself. I can't be what you need, and you're young enough to find someone else. I can't do this anymore."

"Are you serious? Just like that? Go out and find someone else? I love you, Joe. I have since I was seventeen years old. You don't just walk away from that." She started to cry as she said it to him, but he didn't reach out for her. It would only have made things worse, or so he thought.

"Sometimes you do walk away, Kate. Sometimes you have to take a good look at who you are, and what you want, and what you don't have. I don't have what it takes to be married to you, or anyone else, and I'm tired of feeling guilty about it." He was sure, as he sat in bed with her, that he would never marry again. In marrying her, he had made a huge mistake. She was so loving and so giving, and she wanted so much from him. And all he really wanted was to build and fly his planes. It sounded childish when he said it out loud, and incredibly selfish, but it was enough for him.

"I don't care how much you're gone," she said reasonably, "I can keep myself busy with the kids. Joe, you can't just throw us away. I love you... the kids love you.... I don't care how little we see each other, I'd rather be married to you than anyone else." But he couldn't say the same. He knew he wanted freedom more than anything. The freedom to continue building his empire, and design extraordinary planes, the freedom not to love her anymore. He had given all he had to give. He had realized that summer that he'd been faking it for the last year. He didn't want to do that to her, or to himself. He had nothing left. He'd been running on fumes. He hated calling her, hated being there, hated getting home for holidays, making excuses when he couldn't get back for things that were important to her. He had given her nearly four years. It had been enough for him.

She sat in bed looking sh.e.l.l-shocked, and when he was through, she started to cry again. She could sense with everything she'd ever felt for him that she had already lost him, perhaps had years before. He had slipped away quietly one day, and she had never seen him go. And now all he was doing was picking up his things. The one thing he didn't want to take with him was her. She had no idea what she was going to do with the rest of her life. Die, she hoped. After being married to him, and seeing her dreams come true, no matter how hard it was sometimes, she couldn't imagine living without him. But she knew she had to now. It was as though someone had come to tell her he had died. In a way, he had. He had opted for work and success, and not love. It seemed a poor choice to her.

"You and the kids can stay in the apartment for as long as you like. I'm going to stay in California for the rest of the year." He had asked Hazel that morning if she would move out to L.A. till the end of the year. She had grandchildren in New York, but she had thought it would be a fun thing to do. She'd had no idea he was planning to leave Kate behind permanently.

Kate looked horrified. "You've already decided all that? When did you make up your mind?"

"Probably a long time ago. I think I knew this summer. And when I came back to New York, I thought it was the right time. There's no point hanging on anymore. I think I've been gone for a long time." What had happened? What had she done? How had she failed him? It was impossible to believe that she hadn't done something terrible to him. But the truth was she hadn't, other than marry him. It was the one thing he didn't want, and thought he had. But he'd been wrong. She fascinated him, she intrigued him, she excited him, but that was all it had ever been for him. He had been drawn to her like moth to flame, but he wanted the sky rather than her warmth, and he had flown away.

She lay beside him and cried quietly all night. She stroked his hair, and looked at him as he slept. If he had been anyone else, she would have thought he was insane. But there was something very cold and calculating about what he had said. It was the only way he knew to save himself, and it reminded her of their ending in New Jersey years before. Not knowing what else to do, Joe shut down emotionally and ran away. She had been dispensed with, dismissed, as she understood it, he didn't want her anymore. It was the cruelest thing anyone had ever done to her. In some ways, even crueler than her father's suicide. In Kate's eyes, the reasons Joe had offered weren't adequate to justify his leaving her, although they were to him. Gouging her out of his heart, no matter how painful to him or her, was all he knew how to do.

She never slept all night, and at first light she got up, washed her face, and then went back to bed. He lay close to her, as he always did, when he woke up. But this time, he said nothing, he simply rolled over and got out of bed.

And when he left the apartment for his flight to London, he said goodbye to her very carefully. He didn't want to raise any false hopes that he'd change his mind. He was leaving her forever, and she knew it to her very soul.

"I love you, Joe," she said, and for an instant he saw the girl he had once met, in her pale blue satin evening gown, with the dark auburn hair. He remembered her eyes that night, and they were the same ones he saw now. But as he looked into them he saw immeasurable pain. But she looked scarcely different than she had sixteen years before. "I'll always love you," she whispered, as she realized she was seeing him for the last time. They would never be together this way again. He had purposely not made love to her during his entire stay in New York. He hadn't wanted to mislead her and he didn't want to now. He was sending her back to her own life, so he could reclaim his.

"Take care of yourself," he said softly, taking one last long look at her. It was hard to let her go, in his own way he had loved her as best he could. Not the way she had loved him, but in the best ways he knew how. It would have been enough for her, but not for him. The funny thing was, he wanted less and not more. "I was right, you know," he said, as she stood looking up at him, engraving him in her memory, the face she loved so much, the eyes, the cheekbones, the cleft chin. "It was an impossible dream. It always was."

"It didn't have to be," she said, her blue eyes blazing at him. Even now, in so much pain, she was more beautiful than he wanted to see. More beautiful than he needed her to be. "We could still have this, Joe. We could have it all." What she said was true, he knew, but he didn't want it anymore. He told himself he had enough without her.

"I don't want it, Kate," he said cruelly, but he wanted her to understand, he couldn't hurt her anymore. He couldn't stand the guilt or the pain.

She watched him without saying another word as he walked out and closed the door.

23.

AFTER LEAVING KATE, Joe went to California for six months, and moved to London for five months after that. He offered her a huge settlement, which she gracefully declined. She had her own money, and she didn't want anything from him. All she had ever wanted for sixteen years was to be his wife. She had been that for four, which was all Joe Allbright had to give, or so he believed when he left.

Kate had caused him so much pain, and inflicted such intense guilt on him, that all Joe wanted was to flee. He had wanted her more than anything, loved her more than he had ever dared, given more than he had known he was capable of. And in spite of everything, it hadn't been enough for her. For all the years of their marriage, he felt she had wanted more and more and more of him. It had terrified him, and brought up all of his old wounds. Every time he listened to her, he could hear his cousin's voice telling him what a rotten kid he was, and how disappointed she was in him. Just seeing Kate, whenever he came home, reminded him of how inadequate he had felt as a child, and what a failure he believed he was as a human being and a man. It was a demon he'd been fleeing all his life. And even the vast empire he had built couldn't protect him from it. The pain he saw in Kate's eyes catapulted him back to the worst of his boyhood again and conjured up all his guilts. In the end, it was easier for him to be alone than to be tormented by her, or cause her pain. Every time he knew he hurt or disappointed her, it was agony for him. And there was a selfish side to him as well. He didn't want to meet anyone's needs but his own.

It took Kate months to understand what had happened to them. The divorce had been filed by then, and they had been separated for nearly a year. He had refused to see her during that time, but called occasionally to check on her and the kids. For months, Kate had wandered around the house they'd rented, in a daze. The hardest part was learning to live without him again. It was like learning to live without air.

She thought constantly about what had happened to them, trying to understand her part in it. And through the months of her despair, the light began to dawn, slowly at first, and in time she could see how her reaching out and wanting more time with him had panicked him. Without meaning to, she had terrified him. Not knowing how else to deal with her, or stop the deadly dance, he could think of nothing else but to run away. He had never wanted to do that to her, but in the end, he knew that he would hurt her more, and himself, if he stayed.

At first, all Kate could think about was what she had lost when he left, and for months her own panic grew worse. She thought about losing her father years before. And she endured another blow when Clarke died in the spring. And just as she had years before, Kate's mother retreated into her own world, and all but disappeared. Kate cried herself to sleep at night, and the loneliness she felt was overpowering. But as the months drifted by, she slowly found her feet again.

Joe had suggested she go to Reno to speed up the divorce, but she had filed it in New York instead, knowing it would take longer. It was her final act of clinging to him. She was still holding on to him by a single rapidly fraying thread. And in fact she had nothing left of him but his name.

It would have been hard to say when the change happened in her. It didn't come suddenly. It wasn't a sudden awakening. It was a slow, arduous winding path up a mountainside toward maturity and growth. And as she climbed the mountain day by day, she grew strong. The things that had once so desperately frightened her seemed less ominous. She had lost so much of what mattered most to her that abandonment was finally a monster she had faced and conquered on her own. Of all the things that terrified her, losing him had been her worst fear. But she had, and lived.

Her children were the first to see the change in her, long before Kate was even aware of it herself. She laughed more often, and cried less easily. She went on a trip to Paris with them. And this time, when Joe called when she came home, to see how they were, he heard something different in her voice. It was ephemeral and intangible, and he would have been hard put to explain what it was. But Kate no longer sounded terrified or desperate about being alone. She had gone on endless walks in Paris, down backstreets and on boulevards, thinking about him. She hadn't seen him in nearly a year by then. He had stayed well away from her, and had every intention of never seeing her again, although he had moved back to an apartment in New York.

"You sound happy, Kate," Joe said quietly. He couldn't help wondering, in spite of himself, if there was a new man in her life. He wanted that for her, and yet at the same time, he hoped not. He had avoided all the available women he had met for the past year. He didn't want to get tangled up with anyone. Perhaps ever again, he told himself. As always, for Joe, it was easier to be alone. But he had missed Kate, and the warmth she brought to his life, for many months. What kept him away from her was that the price of being with her and loving her was too high for him. He was certain that to approach, or even see her again, would only sear his wings again.

"I think I am happy," Kate laughed. "G.o.d knows why. My mother is driving me crazy, she's so lonely without Clarke. Stevie cut most of her hair off last week. And Reed knocked out both of his front teeth playing baseball with a friend."

"That sounds about right," Joe laughed. He had forgotten what it was like living with them. But at the same time, he had not.

As Kate did every morning when she woke up, he remembered only too well what it was like waking up next to her. He had not touched a woman for an entire year. Kate had begun seeing other men for dinner from time to time, but she could not bring herself to do more than that. They all paled in comparison to him. She couldn't imagine being with anyone else. And when she came home at night, she was relieved to climb into her bed alone. In truth, being alone no longer seemed menacing to her. It had grown comfortable, she had the children and friends. She had looked loss in the eye and she had not died of it. And slowly, she realized that nothing would ever frighten her in just that way again. She could see it all so much more clearly now. She could see how frightening being married had been for him. She wanted to tell him how sorry she was. But she knew from everything he had said to her that it was too late to make any difference to him.

It was a month later, when she was writing quietly one day, in a journal she kept, that Joe called about some detail of the divorce. She had continued to refuse to take money from him. Clarke had left half his fortune to her, and she had never wanted to take anything from Joe. He suggested his lawyer send some doc.u.ments to her. It was about a piece of property he had just sold, and he wanted her to sign a quitclaim deed. She agreed, but for a moment on the phone, her voice sounded odd.

"Am I ever going to see you again?" she asked, sounding forlorn. She still missed seeing him and touching him, the smell of him, the feel of him, but she accepted now that he was gone forever from her life. She knew she would not die of it, but it still felt like losing an essential part of her, like a leg or an arm, or her heart. But she was entirely prepared to go on without him. She had no other choice, and she had made her peace with it at last.

"Do you suppose we should see each other, Kate?" he asked, hesitating. For more than a year, he had thought of her as dangerous. It wasn't that she meant to be, but he was afraid that if he even saw her he would fall in love with her all over again, and the deadly dance would begin again. It was a risk he was no longer willing to take. And he was far too cognizant of her charms. "It probably isn't a good idea," he said quietly before she could answer him.

"Probably not," she agreed. And for once she didn't sound devastated, or distraught. There was no desperation in her voice. No subtle reproach to cause him guilt. She sounded peaceful, and sensible, and calm. She went on talking to him about a new subdivision he had formed, and a new plane he had designed. And after he hung up, it gnawed at him. He had never heard her sound quite like that. She sounded suddenly grown up. And he realized that, even more than he had, she had moved on. She had found freedom finally. And in losing him, she had found peace. She had faced the worst of her fears, looked the monsters squarely in the eye, and had somehow managed to make peace not only with herself, but with him, and go on with her life. She knew there was no chance he would ever come back. She had given up the dream.

He lay awake long into the night, thinking about her, and in the morning he told himself how unkind it had been of him not to at least see the kids. It wasn't their fault that his marriage to their mother hadn't worked out. He realized then that she had never reproached him for it. She had begrudged him nothing in the past year. She had asked nothing of him. She had fallen down the abyss she had always feared, and instead of hanging on to him to survive, and strangling him, she had let go. The thought of it mystified him, and all he could ask himself as he went to work that day was why. He couldn't help thinking that it had to be because she was clinging to another man. There had to be. He had felt devoured by her needs. But late that afternoon, he called her again. The same doc.u.ment was still sitting on his desk. He had forgotten to give it to his secretary the day before to send to Kate.

When he called her, Kate answered the phone. He always felt some trepidation when he called. He knew that one day it would be answered by a man. But Kate sounded distracted and relaxed when she picked up the phone.

"Oh... hi... sorry... I was in the tub." Her words instantly conjured up images he had been repressing for months. He no longer wanted to think of her that way. There was no reason to. As far as Joe was concerned, she was gone. It had to be that way. There had been no other choice, for either of them. He knew he had done the right thing. He had saved himself. If he hadn't, she would have destroyed his life, and driven him insane. The guilt and complaints she had constantly hurled at him had been worse than bullets or knives to Joe. In the end, he knew they would have cost him everything he was. But she sounded so innocent. It was hard to believe that she had presented such a dire threat little more than a year before. His memory of the pain and guilt he had felt was finally growing dim.

"I forgot to send you that paper to sign yesterday," he said apologetically, trying not to think of her standing naked at the phone. He wondered if she was wrapped in a towel, or wearing a robe. He stared out the window, and all he could see was Kate as he held the phone. "I'll drop it by." He could have sent it by messenger, or mailed it to her. They both knew that. But Kate sounded casual as she smiled at her end.

"Do you want to come up when you drop it off?" There was a long empty pause, as Joe thought about it, and her. His instincts told him to hang up on her, and run away, to resist all of her unspoken and long since unseen charms. He didn't want her in his life again, and yet she still was. He was still married to her, and she was his wife.

"I... uh... is that a good idea? Seeing each other, I mean." A little voice in Joe's head was telling him to run.

"I don't see why not. I think I can handle it. What about you?" She might as well have said "I'm over you," and Joe had no way of knowing it, but she was not, and thought she'd never be. But there was no point saying that to him.

"I suppose it would be all right," he said, sounding distant again. But Kate didn't seem to mind. He no longer frightened her. He couldn't leave her now. He already had. All the worst possible things had happened to her, all the things she used to have nightmares about, and she had survived.

More important, even from the distance, she had finally understood who Joe was. And even if she never saw him again, there was no question in her mind. She knew she would always love him, he would always be the standard against which she would measure other men. He was the biggest and the best, the only man she had ever truly loved, and the one she had accepted that she couldn't have. Knowing that, and that it was in part her fault that she had lost him, had been hard blows to recover from, but nonetheless she had. And she had come out of it, not broken but strong. He had never heard her sound quite like that before. Even over the phone, he knew there was something different about her. She no longer sounded like the wife he had left, but a much loved old friend. It made him long for her suddenly as he hadn't in months.

"When do you want to come by?" Kate asked hospitably.

"When will the kids be home?" he asked, feeling lonelier than he had in months. Suddenly it was Joe who felt the full impact of the loss, and he wasn't even sure why. Why now? Until then, he had protected himself so well.

"They're at Andy's this week," Kate said apologetically about Stevie and Reed. "Maybe, if we don't throw things at each other, you could come by and see them another time." He could hear in her voice that she was laughing at him.

"I'd like that," he said happily. He felt young and foolish suddenly, and then reminded himself instantly of how dangerous she was. For a moment, he thought of sending her the papers by messenger after all. But Kate continued to sound calm, because she was.

"How about five?" she asked.

"Five what?" He was panicking. He was afraid to see her again. What if she blamed him for everything that had gone wrong? What if she told him what a b.a.s.t.a.r.d he had been? What if she accused him of abandoning her? But there was none of that in Kate's voice as she laughed.

"Five o'clock, silly You sound a little distracted. Are you all right?"

"I'm fine. And five o'clock will be fine. I won't stay long.

"I'll leave the door open," she teased, "you don't even have to sit down." She knew he was panicking, but not why. It never occurred to her that he might be nervous about seeing her. She loved him anyway. His vulnerability and fears only made him more lovable. She had learned so much. Her only regret was not being able to share it with him. She knew she would never get that chance, and doubted if, after that afternoon, she would ever see him again. Once his quitclaim deed was signed, he had no reason to see her again.

"See you at five," he said, sounding businesslike, and Kate smiled as she hung up the phone. She knew it was ridiculous to still love a man who was divorcing her. It made no sense, but nothing in their lives ever had. She was thirty-four years old, and she had finally grown up, it saddened her to realize that the woman she had brought to their marriage had been a frightened child. It had been unfair to both of them. She had wanted him to make up for all the pain she'd had as a little girl. There was no way he could do that for her, and no way she could soothe his wounds, while she was crying out herself. They had been two children, frightened in the night, and all Joe had known how to do was run away. She loved him in spite of it, and the soul searching she had done had served her well.

Joe arrived promptly at five o'clock, with his doc.u.ments in hand. He seemed awkward at first, but all it did was remind her of the first time they'd met. She kept a safe distance from him, and made no attempt to approach. They sat and talked quietly, about the children, his work, and a new plane he wanted to design. It had been a longtime dream for him. Her dreams had all been of him. She was surprised herself to find how easy it was to love him as he was, just sitting there, a little stiff at first, and gradually he warmed up. He had been there for nearly an hour when she offered him a drink, and he smiled. Just seeing him touched her heart. She would have loved to put her arms around him and tell him she would always love him, but she wouldn't have dared. She sat across the room from him, admiring him, and loving him, like a beautiful bird she could see but never touch. If she did, she knew he would fly away. He had given her that chance, more than once, and she had wounded him. She knew that chance would never come her way again. All she could do now was love him silently, and wish him well. It was enough, and all she had left to give. It was all Joe would accept from her ever again.

It was nearly eight o'clock when Joe left. She signed the papers for him, and was surprised when he called her back the next day. He sounded awkward again, but this time he relaxed more rapidly, and then nearly strangled on the words when he invited her to lunch. She was amazed. Kate had no way of knowing it, but she had haunted him all night. She was everything he had always loved in her, and she hadn't frightened him. He wasn't sure if her newfound independence was a trick, or something he wanted to see in her. But he could sense that something had changed profoundly in her, and the aura he sensed around her was no longer hunger or guilt or pain or need, but warmth and peace with him and herself. He remembered now what he had loved in her, and was wondering if they could be friends.

"Lunch?" She sounded more than a little stunned. But after they talked for a while, it sounded feasible to her as well. She was only slightly afraid of falling more deeply in love with him again, but she was still in love with him anyway. She had nothing to lose. All she had at risk was more pain. But she trusted him now, more than she had before, and Kate realized it was because she trusted herself. She could cope with whatever life would bring. That was new, too, and Joe sensed it in her.

They had lunch at the Plaza two days after he called. And went for a walk in the park the following weekend. They talked about the mess they'd made and what might have been, what couldn't be. And she finally had a chance to apologize to him. She had wanted to for months, and was grateful for the opportunity to tell him how deeply she regretted the pain she had caused him. It pained her almost as much as it had him to know how she had frightened him, and wounded him. She had punished herself a thousand times in the past year for all she hadn't understood about him. And she had finally begun to forgive herself for her stupidity, and Joe for his.

"I know. I was so stupid, Joe. I didn't understand. I kept grabbing at you, and the more I did, the more you wanted to run away. I don't know why I didn't see it then. It took me a long time to figure it out. I wish I'd been smarter." Knowing how terrified he was of guilt and entanglement, it was a miracle that he had stayed as long as he had.

"I made some mistakes too," he said honestly. "And I was in love with you." Kate felt a quiver in her heart as she noticed the past tense, but that was fair too. It came as no surprise. It was an aberration of some kind, she knew, that she was still in love with him, and suspected she might always be. She felt that after all that had happened, she no longer deserved another chance with him.

They went back to the house afterward, and he saw Stevie and Reed for the first time since he'd left. And they squealed in delight the moment they saw him. It was a happy afternoon. And she was quiet for a long time after he left. She wanted to believe they could be friends. She had no right to anything more from him, and she told herself it would be enough for her. On his way home, he was trying to convince himself of the same thing. It had to be. He knew they could not try again. It was still too dangerous, and potentially, too painful for him, and always would be.

Their friendship continued for the next two months. They went to dinner occasionally, and lunch on Sat.u.r.days. She made dinner on Sunday nights for him and the kids. And when he went away, she thought of him, but it was no longer the drama it had once been. In fact, it was no drama at all. She was no longer sure what they shared, but whatever it was, they hid it behind the mask of friendship for two months. It was comfortable for them.

It was a rainy Sat.u.r.day afternoon when the children were with Andy in Connecticut, when Joe came by unexpectedly to lend her a book they had talked about the week before. She thanked him, and offered him a cup of tea. It wasn't all he wanted from her, but he had no idea how to walk across the bridge from friendship to something new. They both knew that they could no longer go back to where they once had been. If they ventured forth at all, it had to be to a different place. And Joe was stumped as to how to proceed.

It all happened surprisingly naturally. She had just poured the tea into a cup, when she looked up and saw Joe standing very close to her. He said nothing as she set the teapot down, and then he gently pulled her close to him.

"How crazy would it be, Kate, if I told you I'm still in love with you?" She held her breath as she heard the words.

"Very," she said quietly, nestling close to him, trying not to remember the things they could no longer share, the parts of him she could no longer see. "I was terrible to you," she said remorsefully.

"I was a fool. I acted like a kid. I was scared, Kate."

"Me too," she confessed in a whisper, as her arms went around him. "We were so stupid, I wish we hadn't been... I wish I could have known then all that I do now. I always loved you," she said softly, feeling closer to him than she had in a year.

"I always loved you." He could feel the silk of her hair on his cheek as he held her close. "I just didn't know how to handle it. I felt so guilty all the time. It made me want to run away from you." He paused for a moment and then went on. "Do you really think we've learned something, Kate?" But they both knew they had. He could see it in her and feel it in himself. They were no longer afraid.

"You're wonderful just the way you are, and I can love you just like this," she said with a smile, "whether you're here or not. Your being gone doesn't scare me anymore. I wish I'd done it differently," Kate said mournfully.

He didn't answer her, but kissed her instead. He felt safe with her, probably for the first time since they'd met. He'd always been in love with her, but he had never felt safe with her, not like this. They stood in the kitchen, kissing for a long time, and then without saying more to her, he put an arm around her and they walked to her bedroom, and then he looked at her, hesitating. It brought back so many memories, just kissing her.

"I'm not sure what I'm doing here... we're probably both crazy... and I'm not sure I'll survive it if we mess this up again ... but I have this crazy feeling... I don't think we will this time," Joe said.

"I never thought you'd trust me again." Kate's eyes were enormous as she looked at him.

"Neither did I," he said, and kissed her again. But he did trust her now. She knew him better than she ever had during their entire marriage. He was safe with her finally and she with him. And they both knew it. They had never stopped loving each other. The only frightening thought, to both of them, was how close they had come to losing each other. They had gone right to the edge of the precipice, and then stopped. The hand of Providence had been kind to them.

He spent the weekend with her, and when the kids came home, they were happy to find him there. The rest slid quietly into place again, as though he had never left. He had sold their apartment in New York months before, and he moved into her house for a while, and eventually they bought a house together, and moved in. He went on his trips, and was sometimes gone for weeks at a time. But Kate didn't mind. They talked on the phone, and she was happy, just as she had known she would be. And so was he. This time, it worked, and felt like a miracle to them. And when they had arguments, they were roaring ones, but like fireworks they lit up the sky and were forgotten quickly afterward. They were happy together, happier than they had ever been. They had quietly canceled the divorce as soon as he moved back in.

It had been a good life, for both of them, and it was nearly seventeen years since the time they'd spent apart. They had been right to trust each other one last time. The years they had spent together since had proven them right.

When the children left for their own lives, they had more time alone. Kate traveled with him, but she was always comfortable at home. There were no more demons in her life. They had slain their dragons long before, but not without considerable grief for both of them. The early years had taken a toll on them for a time, but in the end it made them both grateful for what they had learned. She had learned not to pull on him, not to entangle him, not to bring up the ghosts of his past, rattle the sabers of guilt at him. And proud bird that he was, he flew down from his skies and came as close as he could to Kate. In their later years, it was close enough for her, and all she wanted or needed from him. The wounds had been healed at last.

They had been blessed with a great gift, a rare love, a bond so powerful that even they, in their foolishness, had been unable to sever it. The storm had raged, and the house they had built stood strong. Joe and Kate understood each other, as few people did. It was ultimately the pearl of great price that people search a lifetime for. They had found each other and lost each other, and found each other again, in a dozen ways, a dozen times. The miracle was that they had been given one last chance. One final, final chance, and there was no doubt in either of their minds, right to the end, that they had won, or how lucky they had been. They had come so close to losing everything, and their last chance had been the right one finally. For both of them. They had found not only love, but peace. This time, the miracle was theirs to keep.

EPILOGUE.