“And us? Why this? Why couldn't I stay there?” He had no shame, no pride. He loved her too much and wanted her too badly.
“I think I'm afraid to see you.”
“But that's crazy. Why?”
“I don't know. Maybe you want too much from me, Oliver. It's almost as though I'm someone else now. Someone I used to be, and was going to be. Someone who's been asleep for all these years, put away, and forgotten, but now I'm alive again. And I don't want to give that up. For anyone. Not even you.”
“And the people we were together? Have you forgotten them so soon?” It had only been seven weeks, and she made it sound like forever.
“I'm not that person anymore. I'm not sure I ever could be. I think that's why I'm afraid to see you. I don't want to let you down. But I'm not the same person anymore, Ollie. Maybe I haven't been in a long time, and just didn't know it.”
His breath caught, but he had to ask her. “Is there someone else?” Already? So soon? But there could be. And she looked so beautiful when he dropped the kids off. Years had dropped from her when she left Purchase, and she had been pretty to him then, but now she was even more so.
“No, there isn't.” But she seemed to hesitate as she said it. “Not yet. But I want to be free to see other people.” Jesus. He couldn't believe she was saying these words. But she was. It was over.
“I guess that says it all, doesn't it? Do you want to file for a divorce?” His hand shook on the phone as he asked her.
“Not yet. I don't know what I want. Not yet.” He had wanted her to scream in terror at the prospect, but it was obvious that she was considering it. And it was equally obvious that their life together was over in any case.
“Let me know when you figure it out. I think you're a damn fool though, Sarah. We had something wonderful for eighteen years, and you're throwing it out the window.” He sounded bitter and sad as he wiped the tears from his cheeks, torn between sorrow and fury.
“Ollie …” She sounded as though she was crying too. “I still love you.”
“I don't want to hear it.” It was too painful now, too much for him. “I'll pick the kids up tomorrow at four. Just send them downstairs, I'll have a cab waiting.” Suddenly, he didn't want to see her again. And as he set the phone down gently next to the bed, he felt as though he had set his heart down with it. The woman he had known and loved as Sarah Watson was no more. She was gone. If she had ever existed.
Chapter 9
When he picked the children up the following afternoon, his heart was pounding as the cab waited. He got out and rang the bell and then slid back into the taxi. He was anxious to see them again, to have them back with him, to not be alone for a moment longer. Sunday alone in Boston had been dismal without them. And this had been a weekend he would always remember.
Melissa was the first to emerge, looking confident and grown up and very pretty. She waved at her father in the cab, and he was relieved to see that she was in good spirits. It had done her good to see her mother at last. Benjamin came next, looking serious and subdued, but he was always that way now. He had changed drastically in the two months since she had left them. Or maybe he was just growing up. Oliver wasn't sure, and he worried about him. And then came Sam, dragging his feet and carrying a large, awkwardly wrapped bundle. She had given him a teddy bear, unsure if he would like the gift, but he had slept with it the night before, and clutched it now like a sacred treasure.
Benjamin slid into the front seat, and Mel had already gotten into the cab, as Sam reached his father with wide, sad eyes, and it was easy to see he'd been crying.
“Hi, big guy, whatcha got?”
“Mom gave me a teddy bear. Just for good luck … you know …” He was embarrassed to admit how much he loved it. And she had instinctively picked the right thing for him. She knew them all well, and Oliver could still smell her perfume on the boy as he hugged him. It made his heart ache just to smell it and think of her. And then, as Sam climbed over him, bumping his overnight bag across their legs, Oliver glanced up, and saw her standing in the doorway. She was waving to them, and for an instant, he wanted to jump out of the cab and run back and hold her and take her back with them. Maybe he could still bring her to her senses, and if not, at least he could touch her and feel her and smell her. But he forced himself to look away, and in a hoarse voice told the driver to head for the airport. He glanced back in spite of himself as they drove away, and she looked pretty and young as she continued to wave from the doorway, and suddenly, as he watched her, he felt Melissa slip something into his hand. It was a little white silk pouch, and when he opened it, he saw the emerald ring he had given Sarah for Christmas. There was a little note that asked him to save it for Melissa. And that too was a powerful statement. It had been a brutal weekend for him, and he slipped the pouch in his pocket without saying a word, his jaw hard, his eyes cold, as he looked out the window.
Oliver said nothing for a long time, and just listened as the children rattled on, about the dinner she'd cooked, and the popcorn, and how much they'd liked the apartment. Even Sam seemed more at ease now. And it was obvious it had done him a world of good to see their mother. They all looked well groomed, and Sam's hair was combed just the way Oliver liked it. And it was painful for him just seeing them that way, so obviously fresh from her hands, as though newly born, and only just then sprung from her. He didn't want to hear about how wonderful it had been, how great she looked, how cute the garden was, or how hard her courses. He only wanted to hear how desperately she missed all of them, and most of all him, how soon she was coming back, how much she hated Boston, and that she'd been wrong to go there. But he knew now that he would never hear that.
The flight back to New York was rough, but the children didn't even seem to notice, and they got home at eight o'clock that night. Aggie was waiting for them, and offered to cook them dinner. They told Aggie all about Boston then, and what their mom had done, what she had said, what she thought, and about everything that she was doing. And finally, halfway through the meal, Ollie couldn't stand it anymore. He stood up and threw his napkin down as the children stared at him in amazement.
“I'm sick and tired of hearing about all that! I'm glad you had a great time, but dammit, can't you talk about anything else?” They looked crushed and he was suddenly overwhelmed with embarrassment. “I'm sorry … I'm … never mind …” He left them and went upstairs, closing the door to his room, and then sitting there, in the darkness, staring out into the moonlight. But it was so painful listening to them, hearing about her all the time. They had found her again. And he had lost her. There was no turning the clock back now, no getting away from it. She didn't love him anymore, no matter what she said on the phone. It was over. Forever.
He sat there, in the dark, on his bed, for what seemed like a long time, and then he lay down in the darkness and stared up at the ceiling. It was a longer time still before he heard a knock at the door. It was Mel, and she opened the door a crack, but at first she didn't see him. “Dad?” She stepped into the room, and then she saw him there, lying on his bed in the moonlight. “I'm sorry … we didn't mean to upset you … it's just …”
“I know, baby, I know. You have a right to be excited. She's your mom. I just got a little crazy for a minute. Even dads go berserk sometimes.” He sat up and smiled at her and then turned on the light, feeling awkward that she had found him sulking in the darkness. “I just miss her a lot … just like you did….”
“She says she still loves you, Dad.” Mel was suddenly so sad for him and the look in his eyes was just awful.