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He had another call then, and told her he'd see her that night. It was always comforting talking to him. She loved their exchanges, their time together, the way they still cuddled up to each other at night. Nothing about their relationship to each other had become commonplace or was taken for granted. They had one of those rare marriages that had never been seriously challenged. And after twenty years, they were still in love with each other. As Tanya thought about it, she couldn't even imagine being without him. The idea of living in L.A. for nine months, alone five nights a week, was inconceivable. Just thinking about it now, she felt lonely. It didn't matter how much they offered her, or how important the movie was, her husband and children were more important to her. And as she pulled into their driveway, she knew she had made the decision. She wasn't even sad about it. Maybe a little disappointed, but there was no question in her mind, this was the life she wanted. She wasn't even sure she'd tell Peter about it. All she had to do now was call Walt in the morning and tell him to turn it down. It was flattering to have been asked, but she didn't want it. She already had everything she wanted. All she needed was Peter and their kids and the life they had.

Chapter 2

As it turned out, despite the best of intentions, it was after eleven o'clock that night when Peter came home. He looked absolutely exhausted, and all he wanted to do was take a shower and get into bed. It didn't really matter to Tanya that they hadn't had a chance to talk that night. She had decided late that afternoon not to even tell him about the movie offer she'd had from Douglas Wayne. She had made up her mind to turn it down. She was already half asleep when Peter slipped into bed after his shower, and put his arms around her. She murmured contentedly with her eyes closed and smiled.

“… long day …” she murmured sleepily, leaning back against him, and he pulled her closer. He smelled of soap and shampoo from his shower. He always smelled delicious to her, even when he woke up in the morning. She turned around in his arms then and kissed him, and he held her tight for a long moment. “… bad day?” she asked him softly.

“No, just long,” he said, admiring her in the moonlight that was filtering into their room. “Sorry I was so late. Everything okay here?”

“Fine,” she said sleepily, nestling happily in his arms. It was the place she liked best to be. She loved ending her days next to him, and waking up next to him in the morning. That had never changed over twenty years. “The kids are all out.” It was summertime, and they spent every waking moment with their pals. She knew the girls were spending the night at a friend's again, and she knew Jason was responsible and a good driver. He rarely stayed out very late, and she felt comfortable going to bed and not waiting up for him. He had his cell phone on him at all times, and she knew she could always reach him. All three of their children were reasonable, and even in their teenage years they hadn't given their parents any serious problems.

Peter and Tanya cuddled close to each other, and five minutes later they were both asleep. Peter got up before she did the next day. She brushed her teeth while he was in the shower, and went downstairs in her nightgown to make him breakfast. She peeked into Jason's bedroom on the way, and saw that he was sleeping soundly. He wouldn't be up for several hours. She had breakfast on the table for Peter when he came downstairs, looking handsome in a gray summer suit, white shirt, and dark tie. She knew from what he was wearing that he must have a court appearance at some point that day. Otherwise he would have worn a sport shirt and khaki slacks, and sometimes even jeans, particularly on Fridays. He had a nice, clean, preppy look, similar to his style when he had met her. They made a handsome couple. She smiled at him as he walked in and sat down to cereal, poached eggs, coffee, toast, and a bowl of fruit. He liked eating a good breakfast, and she always got up to cook it for him, and for the children during the school year. She took pride in taking care of them. She liked to say it was her day job. Her writing career took a backseat to them.

“You must be going to court today,” she commented as he glanced at the paper and nodded.

“Just a quick appearance to request a continuance on a minor matter. What are you up to today? Any interest in meeting me in town for dinner? We got most of our prep work done yesterday.”

“Sounds good to me.” She met him in the city for dinner at least once a week. Sometimes they went to the ballet or the symphony, but most of all she enjoyed spending quiet evenings with him at little restaurants they liked, or going away somewhere for a weekend together. It was an art form they had studied carefully, keeping romance alive in a twenty-year-old marriage with three kids. So far they had done well.

He glanced across the table at her as he finished his breakfast and studied her carefully. He knew her better than she knew herself.

“What are you not telling me?” As always, he stunned her with his unfailingly accurate perception. It would have amazed her except that he had been doing it for all the years they'd been together. He always seemed to know what she was thinking.

“That's a funny thing to say.” She smiled at him, impressed by what he had just said. “What makes you think I'm not telling you something?” She never understood how he did it. But he always did.

“I don't know. I can just feel it. Something about the way you were looking at me, as though you had something to say and didn't want to say it. So what is it?”

“Nothing.” He laughed as she said it, and so did she. She had just given herself away. It was just a matter of time before she told him. And she had told herself she wouldn't. She could never keep secrets from him, nor he from her. She knew him just as well as he knew her. “Oh shit …I wasn't going to tell you,” she confessed, and then poured him a second cup of coffee, and herself another cup of tea. She rarely ate breakfast, just tea, and nibbled the leftovers on their plates. It was enough. “It's not that important.”

“It must be, if you were going to keep it a secret. So what's up? Something about the kids?” It was usually that, some confession one of them had made to her in confidence. But she always told him anyway. He was good about keeping secrets, and she trusted his judgment, on all subjects. He was smart, and wise, and kind. And he almost never let her down.

She took a deep breath and a sip of her tea. For some reason, it was hard to tell him. It was easier telling him things about the kids. This was harder because it was about her. “I got a call from Walt yesterday.” She stopped and waited for a moment before she went on, as he looked at her expectantly.

“And? Am I supposed to guess what he said?” He sat there patiently, and she laughed.

“Yeah, maybe you should.” She looked nervous and felt strange telling him. The idea of her living in L.A. for nine months was so horrifying to her that she felt guilty even telling him about it, as though she had done something wrong, which she hadn't. She was planning to call Walt to decline as soon as Peter left for the office. She wanted to do it quickly and get it behind her. She felt threatened just knowing that the offer was still open, as though, just by making the proposal, Douglas Wayne had the power to kidnap her from her family and the life she loved. She knew it was silly, but that was how she felt. Maybe because she was afraid a part of her would want it, and that part of her had to be controlled. She knew it was up to her to do it. No one else could do it for her, not even Walt. Or Peter. “He called me with an offer,” she finally went on. “It was very flattering, but not something I want to do.” Peter wasn't sure he believed her when he looked into her eyes. There was nothing she could write that she'd want to turn down. He knew after twenty years with her that Tanya needed to write as much as she needed air. She was very discreet about it, but it was a deep fundamental need, and something she did well. He was very proud of her, and had a deep respect for her work.