Professional Documents
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Love in Gray Shadows by S. Anne Gardner
Love in Gray Shadows by S. Anne Gardner
Among
all
this
pushiness
he
saw
the
dead
man.
His
head
was
lying
in
a
pool
of
blood
on
his
desk.
He
had
in
his
left
hand
the
portrait
of
a
beautiful
young
woman
and
a
gun
still
on
the
other.
He
was
a
man
in
his
sixties,
well
known
and
well
to
do.
When
they
had
arrived
a
large
size
television
screen
flickered
with
a
blue
background.
All
you
could
hear
was
the
ongoing
sound
of
the
remaining
blank
video.
The
detective
walked
over
and
turned
it
off.
~~~~~~~~~~
A
light
breeze
came
up
from
the
ocean.
The
music
floated
out
from
the
palatial
mansion
and
seemed
to
cling
heavily
in
the
air.
It
was
the
last
party
of
the
season.
He
asked
himself
why
he
had
wasted
his
time
coming
to
these
things;
he
must
have
been
out
of
his
mind
to
think
that
he
could
find
her.
He
had
come
to
visit
his
childhood
friend
in
the
early
part
of
the
summer.
He
did
this
trying
to
avoid
the
crowds
that
usually
migrated
to
the
Hamptons
in
the
summer
months.
It
had
been
a
day
like
any
other
and
quite
suddenly
something
happened
that
would
change
his
whole
life.
He
was
sitting
with
Whitney
in
a
cafe
having
lunch
when
quite
simply
he
looked
out
the
window.
That
was
the
first
time
he
saw
her.
He
had
kept
coming
back
to
the
Hamptons
in
hopes
of
seeing
her
again.
It
had
all
begun
that
simply
one
summer
afternoon.
He
felt
foolish
and
uncomfortable
in
this
role.
Early
on
in
his
life
he
had
realized
that
women
were
attracted
to
him
like
flies.
He
had
been
born
unto
wealth
and
he
knew
that
he
was
thought
to
be
attractive.
He
had
never
had
to
chase
any
woman.
This
one
he
hadn't
even
spoken
to
for
God's
sake;
he
had
started
to
tell
himself
this
of
late.
He
had
only
seen
her
briefly
and
yet
he
couldn't
get
her
out
of
his
mind.
His
subconscious
would
conjure
up
such
dreams
that
would
drive
him
crazy.
He
had
gradually
become
obsessed
with
the
image
of
a
woman
he
could
not
find.
He
was
going
back
to
the
party
when
from
the
corner
of
his
eye
he
saw
her
come
out
onto
the
balcony.
She
had
not
noticed
his
presence
in
the
shadows.
He
filled
his
eyes
with
her
and
he
began
to
wonder
whether
she
was
real
or
whether
she
was
a
product
of
his
over
active
imagination.
She
wore
a
long
white
gauzy
dress
that
the
breeze
blew
lightly
around
her.
It
surrounded
her
like
a
cloud
of
white.
She
possessed
a
beauty
that
a
man
might
die
for.
She
seemed
delicate
and
she
had
a
look
of
sadness
about
her,
which
made
her
all
the
more
attractive
to
him.
He
was
filled
with
an
overwhelming
desire
to
protect
her.
Her
hair
was
up
in
a
soft
pile
and
by
being
so
it
accented
the
perfection
of
her
neck
and
bare
shoulders.
He
approached
her
slowly.
He
was
afraid
that
when
he
spoke
the
illusion
would
disappear
forever
but
he
had
to
try.
"It's
a
beautiful
night
isn't?
"
He
said
as
he
looked
out
towards
the
sea.
She
looked
in
the
direction
of
where
the
voice
had
come
from.
At
that
moment
he
turned
his
gaze
and
their
eyes
met.
She
was
so
beautiful
it
took
his
breath
away
and
all
he
could
do
was
look
at
her.
"Yes,"
she
said
simply.
"I'm
John
Stanton",
he
introduced
himself
and
put
his
hand
out
to
her.
She
hesitated
for
a
moment
but
her
hand
went
out
to
meet
his.
"I'm
Isabelle,"
she
said
softly.
"Well,
I
agree
you
are
beautiful
enough
to
be
known
by
only
one
name."
He
meant
to
compliment
her
but
quite
suddenly
she
pulled
her
hand
from
his.
She
seemed
nervous
and
uncomfortable
as
she
spoke
again..
"I'm
Isabelle
Mercer
and
I
consider
myself
quite
ordinary."
He
thought
for
a
moment
before
he
spoke.
"You're
not
ordinary,
not
ordinary
at
all,"
he
said
to
her.
She
turned
to
face
the
ocean
and
away
from
him
with
such
longing
in
her
eyes.
He
could
see
the
pain
inside
her
and
it
touched
him.
"Even
in
your
sadness
you
seem
beautiful,"
he
said
and
she
looked
in
his
direction
again.
Before
she
could
speak
he
took
a
few
steps
closer
to
her
and
took
her
into
his
arms.
"Dance
with
me."
He
hadn't
given
her
the
chance
to
say
no.
She
looked
up
in
surprise
and
their
eyes
met
once
more.
They
danced
in
silence
at
first.
And
almost
by
magical
conjuring
they
were
suddenly
surrounded
and
held
by
the
dream
like
music
coming
from
within.
They
became
one
body.
And
as
the
music
ended
he
refused
to
release
her.
She
raised
her
face
in
question
and
as
she
did
so
his
lips
met
hers.
At
first
his
lips
teased
hers
lightly
and
as
she
pulled
away
slightly,
he
pulled
her
closer
to
him.
Her
body
seemed
to
melt
into
his.
As
his
lips
became
more
demanding
hers
opened
to
welcome
him.
A
passion
erupted
in
them
that
neither
had
ever
experienced
before.
They
were
caught
up
in
a
whirlwind
of
emotion
that
spun
around
them
with
a
velocity
that
neither
could
control.
She
broke
the
embrace
suddenly.
She
pushed
away
from
him.
Her
hands
on
his
chest
kept
him
at
a
distance.
They
both
panted
for
breath.
He
wanted
more,
she
could
clearly
see
that,
but
all
he
could
see
in
her
face
was
fear.
This
brought
him
back
to
the
reality
of
the
situation
all
too
quickly.
"I'm
sorry,
I
didn't
want
to
frighten
you.
I've
been
wanting
to
kiss
you
for
three
months,"
he
finished
saying
with
a
half
smile.
"Three
months?"
"I
saw
you
three
months
ago
walking
down
the
street
as
I
was
having
lunch
with
a
friend,"
he
said
simply.
She
turned
away
from
him
and
put
her
hands
on
the
rail
for
support
as
she
looked
out
into
the
water
again.
He
stood
very
still
not
wanting
to
frighten
her
away.
"I'm
not
looking
for
a
relationship,
Mr.
Stanton,"
she
stated
simply.
"What
are
you
looking
for
Isabelle?"
He
asked
her
plainly.
"Nothing,"
she
answered
quickly.
He
turned
and
leaned
against
the
rail
with
his
back
to
the
water.
He
ran
his
fingers
through
his
hair.
"You
must
think
I'm
crazy,"
he
said
softly.
She
said
nothing.
"Are
you
married?"
"No."
"Are
you
engaged?"
"No."
He
turned
to
look
at
her.
And
very
slowly
asked
her
the
question
that
mattered
most.
"Are
you
in
love
Isabelle?"
She
thought
for
a
moment
and
said
"No."
He
smiled
to
himself
in
victory.
"I
know
you
don't
find
me
unattractive,"
he
said
to
her
and
he
could
see
that
he
had
dented
her
resolve.
She
looked
in
his
direction.
"I
...I
can't
Mr.
Stanton...I
can't,"
she
pleaded
with
him
suddenly.
He
didn't
understand
but
he
decided
to
give
her
room.
For
right
now
it
was
probably
best.
They
both
stood
very
close.
"Okay,"
he
said
simply
and
she
seemed
to
visibly
relax.
"Have
lunch
with
me
tomorrow?"
He
asked
suddenly.
Before
she
had
a
chance
to
answer
he
added.
"Just
lunch...I've
been
trying
to
find
you
for
three
months...Just
lunch....
Please?"
He
gaver
her
his
most
charming
smile.
"No,
I'm
sorry,
Mr.
Stanton,"
she
answered
in
a
voice
which
was
almost
a
whisper.
He
stood
next
to
her
not
willing
to
let
her
just
walk
out
of
his
life.
"Isabelle..."
he
beckoned.
She
turned
to
look
at
him.
"I
can't
just
walk
away
Isabelle,"
he
told
honestly
to
her.
She
started
to
move
away
and
he
reached
out
for
her.
"Just
lunch,"
he
insisted.
"I
can't,"
she
repeated.
He
released
her
and
she
walked
away
from
him.
He
stayed
under
the
moonlight
as
she
walked
back
inside.
~~~~~~~~~~
It
turned
out
that
Whitney
knew
her.
That
night
he
found
out
that
Isabelle
and
a
few
other
friends
were
going
to
have
lunch
at
the
yacht
club
the
next
day.
She
had
turned
him
down
flat.
Normally
that
would
have
been
enough.
Some
might
say
that
it
was
pride
that
didn't
allow
him
to
walk
away.
But
most
people
didn't
know
John
Stanton.
He
never
really
had
to
try
hard
to
get
what
he
wanted.
He
had
everything
most
people
would
ever
dream
of.
He
had
never
really
known
what
it
was
like
to
want.
And
he
wanted
Isabelle.
He
wanted
her
with
every
fiber
that
his
body
and
soul
possessed.
He
had
never
known
such
hunger
or
such
longing
in
his
life.
The
idea
of
not
having
her
in
his
arms
again
drove
him
to
madness.
She
was
different
than
any
other
woman
he
had
ever
met.
Her
frailty
attracted
him.
He
was
overwhelmed
with
a
desire
to
possess
her
and
protect
her.
For
a
moment
he
had
seen
into
her
soul
and
that
had
touched
something
in
him
that
would
connect
her
to
him
forever.
He
had
seen
her
pain,
which
for
some
irrational
reason
touched
him
and
fused
him
to
her.
It
intrigued
him.
He
had
never
known
pain
in
his
life.
And,
quite
suddenly
this
woman
had
made
him
see
pain
and
in
her
he
found
it
disturbing.
He
arrived
at
the
yacht
club
early.
He
stood
near
a
window
like
a
statue
and
just
stared
out
waiting.
Ever
since
the
moment
he
had
kissed
her
nothing
else
mattered.
It
didn't
seem
important
for
him
to
try
to
do
anything
but
wait
for
her.
And
all
he
wanted
was
Isabelle.
He
turned
around
the
moment
she
came
into
the
room
almost
by
instinct.
And,
seeing
her
didn't
surprise
him.
He
had
felt
her
coming.
He
took
in
as
much
as
he
could
with
his
eyes.
She
saw
the
hunger
in
him
visible
in
his
eyes
and
she
turned
away
from
it.
He
hardly
spoke
to
her
at
lunch.
They
were
a
nice
group
really,
but
he
couldn't
have
cared
less
whether
they
were
pleasant
or
not
if
she
hadn't
been
there.
Occasionally,
he
did
catch
her
looking
at
him
and
that
gave
him
hope.
~~~~~~~~~~
For
the
next
few
weeks
he
showed
up
at
every
lunch,
dinner
or
event
she
attended.
Always,
keeping
his
distance.
If
she
began
to
expect
him
that
was
fine.
That
was
what
he
wanted.
Slowly
he
would
talk
to
her
matter
of
factly,
never
getting
her
alone
anywhere.
Never
had
he
courted
any
woman
like
this;
he
was
patience
personified.
Whitney
would
look
at
him
and
shake
her
head
in
amusement.
"John,
why
don't
you
give
up.
She's
obviously
not
interested,"
Whitney
said
to
him
one
afternoon.
"She's
frightened.
She's
been
hurt,
I
can
see
that.
I
just
can't
walk
away
from
her,
Whit.
I
can't
explain
it...I
just
can't."
She
could
hear
the
exasperation
in
his
voice.
"My
God,
you
love
her!"
She
said
as
it
suddenly
became
obvious
to
her.
She
looked
up
at
him
and
he
was
yet
again
looking
at
Isabelle,
and
his
answer
was
barely
a
whisper
"Yes."
He
loved
her.
The
knowledge
of
it
filled
his
chest.
He
felt
weighted
down
by
it.
For
quiet
suddenly
he
realized
she
might
never
love
him
in
return.
He
had
never
been
in
love.
It
was
driving
him
crazy.
He
couldn't
have
mistaken
her
reaction
that
night
when
he
kissed
her,
he
kept
telling
himself.
He
had
felt
her
hunger.
"I
don't
know
how
to
reach
her
Whitney.
She's
different
than
any
woman
I
have
ever
known.
I
want
her
so
bad
it
physically
hurts.
She
doesn't
even
give
me
the
time
of
day!"
He
finished
in
exasperation
and
despair.
"I
would
never
have
guessed
that
you
would
ever
surcome
Johnny!"
She
said
in
jest.
He
looked
at
her
seriously.
"It's
not
funny
Whitney!"
He
sounded
angry.
"I'm
sorry,
I'm
really
sorry,"
she
said
to
him
and
meant
it.
"I
just
don't
know
how
to
reach
her.
You're
the
only
woman
friend
I
have."
"That's
because
I
refused
to
be
your
girlfriend
when
I
was
ten
and
you
were
eleven."
She
smiled
at
him.
"Yeah,"
he
said
returning
her
smile.
"I've
known
her
for
a
short
time
Johnny
but
she
seems
like
a
genuinely
nice
person.
She's
a
little
aloof.
I've
never
seen
her
with
a
male
friend
or
a
woman
friend,
if
you
know
what
I
mean."
"You
like
her
don't
you
Whit,"
he
said
in
satisfaction.
"Yeah,
there's
something
about
her
that
seems
genuine
and
noble.
But
I
also
see
that
she
is
filled
with
some
great
pain,
Johnny,
and
that
is
something
that
may
keep
her
away
from
you
forever,"
she
finished
sadly.
"What
do
you
mean?"
He
asked
perplexed.
"If
someone
or
something
has
hurt
her
so
much
that
she
can't
shake
it
she
might
not
want
to
take
a
chance
in
being
hurt
ever
again."
She
looked
quite
seriously
at
him.
"I'll
make
her
want
to
take
a
chance,"
he
said
confidently
looking
back
in
Isabelle's
direction
once
more.
"I
hope
you're
right,
Johnny,"
Whitney
said
to
him.
He
was
her
best
friend.
John
had
always
been
so
confident
and
so
strong.
This
might
be
something
he
could
not
handle
and
that
worried
her.
Rejection
was
alien
to
him
but
worse
of
all
was
the
fact
that
rejection
by
the
only
woman
he
had
ever
really
wanted
might
be
hard
to
handle
indeed.
~~~~~~~~~~
They
all
usually
went
out
as
a
group.
It
had
been
decided
to
have
a
picnic
on
the
beach
the
day
before.
It
was
to
be
the
last
of
the
season.
The
summer
had
come
to
an
end
and
all
would
be
leaving
their
summer
playground
within
days.
Isabelle
was
walking
alone
on
the
beach
picking
up
shells
when
he
walked
over
to
her.
"What
are
you
doing
daughter
of
Neptune?
Gathering
up
treasures
to
return
to
the
sea?"
He
said
to
her
with
a
smile.
She
looked
up
at
him
covering
her
eyes
from
the
sun
with
her
hand.
"Well
you
know
how
it
is,
occasionally
we
do
want
our
treasures
back."
She
returned
his
smile.
This
was
a
good
day.
The
first
time
he
had
felt
like
he
was
actually
getting
to
her.
"Isabelle,
have
dinner
with
me
and
I
promise
to
gather
all
the
treasure
that
Neptune
can
ever
want,"
he
said
taking
a
characteristic
bow.
"No
thanks,"
she
said
and
then
started
walking
down
the
beach
away
from
him.
He
had
broken
the
connection
with
his
impatience,
he
told
himself.
He
would
try
again.
"Can
I
walk
with
you?"
He
asked
as
he
walked
next
her.
"I
don't
own
the
beach,"
she
answered
as
she
kept
walking.
She
neither
encouraged
nor
discouraged
him.
They
walked
in
silence.
She
stopped
and
stared
out
into
the
ocean
after
they
had
walked
for
what
seemed
like
a
long
time.
"Do
you
ever
wonder
what's
out
there?
Way
out
there
where
there's
only
water
and
sky?"
She
asked
suddenly,
appearing
to
be
mesmerized.
"Why
don't
we
find
out?"
He
said
softly.
She
turned
and
looked
at
him.
"We
can
sail
out
there
and
find
out."
He
could
see
that
she
was
tempted
but
not
enough.
"No,"
she
said
as
she
started
walking
again.
"Isabelle!"
He
held
her
in
place,
holding
her
by
the
arm.
The
desperation
was
obvious
in
his
voice.
"Am
I
so
terrible?"
He
asked
in
desperation.
"You
can't
possibly
find
me
so
undesirable
that
I'm
not
even
worthy
of
an
afternoon
sail?"
"Let
me
go!"
She
demanded.
"What's
wrong
with
me?
What
makes
me
so
horrible?"
He
asked
again,
still
hanging
on
to
her.
"Let
me
go!"
She
pulled
hard
as
he
released
her
and
fell
down
hard
onto
the
sand.
He
was
next
to
her
immediately.
"Are
you
all
right?
I'm
so
sorry...Are
you
all
right?"
"Yes,
just
leave
me
alone,"
she
said
turning
away
from
him.
He
grabbed
her
arms
and
she
fell
on
her
back.
He
was
immediately
over
her.
His
mouth
found
hers
and
coaxed
her
lips
to
open.
He
could
feel
her
body
respond
beneath
him.
Suddenly,
she
started
pushing
him
away.
"Stop
it!
Get
off!
Get
off!"
She
was
becoming
hysterical.
Her
fear
brought
him
to
his
senses.
He
immediately
released
her.
She
started
to
gasp
for
air.
"Are
you
ill?"
He
asked
concerned.
"I'll
be
okay,
I
just
need
to
be
alone."
She
looked
quite
pale.
"Please,
please
John
just
go
away,"
she
pleaded.
"I
can't
just
leave
you
like
this."
He
was
concerned.
"Please
go,
just
go!"
"Isabelle..."
"Just
go,
please.."
He
got
up
and
walked
away
from
her.
He
didn't
see
her
for
the
next
few
days.
Whitney
said
she
had
not
been
feeling
well.
He
tried
going
to
see
her
but
she
refused
to
see
him.
~~~~~~~~~~
He
had
been
neglecting
his
business
and
his
life
in
New
York.
None
of
that
seemed
to
matter
to
him.
It
had
been
two
months
since
he
had
found
Isabelle
and
he
was
no
closer
to
her
now
than
he
had
been
when
this
all
started
five
months
before.
When
he
thought
he
was
making
progress
he
felt
glad
and
somehow
within
days
that
one
step
forward
resulted
in
three
steps
back.
His
frustration
had
made
him
more
aggressive
in
his
need
of
her.
He
shouldn't
have
pushed
so
hard.
He
had
scared
her
that
day
at
the
beach.
Dear
Lord,
he
had
practically
assaulted
her!
She
had
become
an
obsession
and
he
didn't
like
it.
He
was
getting
moody
and
hard
to
talk
to.
Whitney
had
told
him
to
go
for
a
walk
because
he
was
impossible
to
deal
with.
It
was
cloudy
when
he
went
for
a
walk
on
the
lonely
beach.
The
tourists
had
long
been
gone.
The
wind
was
cold
on
his
face
as
he
walked
the
beach
with
his
hands
deep
in
his
pockets.
The
seasons
changed
so
quickly
here,
he
thought.
It
seemed
that
the
ocean
was
telling
them
all
that
playtime
was
over
and
they
should
all
go
home.
He
was
here
only
because
she
was
here.
He
would
stay
as
long
as
necessary.
Whitney
was
returning
to
the
city
that
day.
Frustrated
and
angry,
he
stood
looking
out
into
the
horizon
where
the
sea
meets
the
sky.
He
had
words
with
his
father
that
morning
too.
His
frustration
was
overflowing
into
every
other
part
of
his
life.
Karl
Stanton
was
checking
on
his
son's
obvious
oblivious
interest
in
the
family
business
for
the
last
half
part
of
the
year.
John
realized
he
had
said
things
he
had
not
meant.
He
didn't
like
hurting
people.
Not
intentionally
anyway.
And
he
knew
that
he
had
been
unusually
harsh
with
his
father.
He
was
unable
to
control
his
frustration
with
Isabelle.
He
turned
and
before
he
saw
her
he
knew
she
would
be
there.
He
looked
at
her
not
able
to
hide
his
emotions.
He
could
see
her
hunger
as
well.
He
slowly
took
her
in
his
arms
and
his
mouth
covered
hers.
She
leaned
into
him
and
her
arms
went
up
his
back
to
pull
him
towards
her.
Her
body
melted
into
his
perfectly.
And
her
lips
welcomed
his
with
an
abandonment
that
surprised
them
both.
"Let
me
go,
please,"
she
pleaded
as
she
pulled
away
from
him.
"Why?
You
want
me
as
much
as
I
want
you!"
"Help
me
John.
This
can't
be.
Please
help
me!"
She
begged
as
tears
rolled
down
her
face.
He
took
a
step
towards
her
and
she
backed
away
from
him.
Her
hands
pressed
at
his
chest
to
keep
him
at
a
distance.
"Nothing
in
this
world
could
make
me
leave,
don't
you
see
that
Isabelle?
Don't
be
frightened.
Give
me
a
chance
to
love
you."
"NO!"
She
yelled.
"No,
this
will
never
be."
She
walked
back
to
shore.
He
had
heard
a
finality
in
her
voice
that
had
kept
him
rooted
to
the
ground
and
unable
to
follow
her.
The
next
day
she
was
gone.
He
went
back
to
New
York.
~~~~~~~~~~
He
poured
himself
into
his
work,
which
he
had
neglected.
He
felt
emptiness
and
lifelessness
in
every
aspect
of
his
life.
Life
had
lost
its
luster
for
him.
He
looked
around
him
and
all
he
saw
were
things.
The
things
he
possessed.
The
things
he
bought.
Nothing
was
really
his.
No
one
belonged
to
him
and
he
belonged
to
no
one.
He
walked,
talked
and
life
went
on
but
he
didn't.
After
an
illness
or
a
death
people
got
better.
Sooner
or
later
they
got
better.
That
was
the
way
of
things.
People
got
better
but
he
didn't.
His
father
showed
up
unexpected
one
afternoon
in
his
office.
"I
thought
we
might
have
lunch
John,"
Karl
Stanton
said
to
his
son.
"Sorry
Dad,
but
I'm
swamped
with
work."
He
didn't
even
bother
to
look
up
from
the
papers
on
his
desk.
"John,
what
is
it
son?"
John's
head
popped
up
instantly.
"What's
tormenting
you?"
Karl
Stanton
asked
point
blank.
"Nothing
Dad,"
he
answered
all
too
quickly.
"I
might
be
able
to
help
you.
Do
you
think
I'm
blind?
Your
Mother
is
sick
with
worry
but
she
doesn't
dare
ask
for
fear
of
the
answer."
John
got
up
from
his
chair
and
stood
in
front
of
a
large
window
that
overlooked
the
city.
He
ran
his
fingers
through
his
hair
and
quite
suddenly
his
father
noticed
his
shoulders
droop
and
his
son
seemed
very
tired.
"I
love
a
woman
who
doesn't
want
me,"
he
confessed.
"Who
is
she?"
"You
don't
know
her,"
he
said
still
looking
out
the
window.
"There
isn't
really
anything
else
to
say."
John
walked
back
to
his
desk.
He
sat
back
down
and
started
working
on
the
papers
in
front
of
him
again.
The
curtain
rose
up
between
them
once
more.
"Sorry
Dad
perhaps
we
can
make
lunch
next
week.
I'm...really
quite
busy
with
this
right
now,"
he
said
very
business
like
and
Karl
Stanton
realized
that
he
had
been
dismissed.
He
loved
his
son.
He
had
been
a
son
to
be
proud
of.
John
was
thirty-three
and
Karl
had
to
admit
he
had
wanted
his
son
to
fall
in
love
and
give
him
yet
another
heir
to
his
great
empire.
Women
had
always
flocked
to
him.
It
had
never
occurred
to
him
that
one
would
turn
him
down.
Now
none
of
the
reasons
he
had
wanted
John
to
marry
seemed
important.
All
he
saw
was
his
son
in
pain
and
he
was
helpless
to
stop
it.
Time
went
on
and
nothing
changed.
It
didn't
surprise
him
when
one
afternoon
John
simply
walked
out
of
his
office
and
didn't
come
back.
He
had
left
his
father
a
brief
letter
saying
simply
that
he
had
to
find
her.
A
year
later
he
did.
~~~~~~~~~~
He
had
followed
her
trail
from
the
Hamptons
to
California.
From
California
to
Venice,
Italy
and
from
there
to
Marbella
in
Spain.
That's
were
he
caught
up
with
her.
He
had
the
address
in
his
hands.
He
drove
to
the
address
and
very
slowly
walked
up
the
steps
of
the
house
overlooking
the
ocean.
It
occurred
to
him
that
they
had
always
been
together
near
an
ocean.
This
thought
filled
him
with
a
sense
of
peace.
He
knocked
on
the
door
and
when
it
opened
she
stood
in
front
of
him.
They
looked
into
each
other's
eyes
and
suddenly
there
was
no
past.
It
was
as
if
they
had
been
together
only
a
few
minutes
before.
She
showed
no
surprise
and
he
realized
that
it
was
like
he
had
been
expected.
"Isabelle,"
her
name
escaped
his
lips.
He
walked
past
her
into
the
house.
"Aren't
you
going
to
tell
me
how
nice
it
is
to
see
me
again?"
He
asked
unable
to
control
the
sarcasm
that
suddenly
filled
his
body.
He
turned
to
face
her.
"Why
did
you
run
away?"
"You
shouldn't
have
come,"
she
said
walking
a
distance
away
from
him
leaving
the
door
open
as
an
open
invitation
for
him
to
leave.
"I
love
you
and
as
crazy
as
this
may
sound
I
know
you
love
me,"
he
stated.
She
looked
at
him
in
surprise.
"You're
crazy.
I
don't
love
you.
I
barely
know
you,"
she
said
angrily
and
she
wrapped
her
arms
around
her
body
protectively.
"You
love
me,
Isabelle,"
he
said
it
again.
"I
can't
be
with
you.
I
have
tried
to
push
you
away.
Why
couldn't
you
just
let
it
go?"
She
blurted
out.
"What
is
it
Isabelle?
Don't
be
afraid,
trust
me.
Nothing
on
this
planet
could
make
me
not
love
you.
God
knows
I've
tried
to
forget
you
and
I
can't."
"You
don't
understand,
and
I
can't
explain.
Just
go
away."
She
pleaded
with
him
as
tears
rolled
down
her
eyes.
"My
father's
first
born
was
a
son,"
she
started.
"He
was
called
Isadore
after
my
grandfather.
"My
father
always
wanted
a
son.
Unfortunately,
Isadore
was
born
sickly.
Still
he
tried
to
teach
him
all
the
things
he
considered
important
for
his
only
son
to
know.
He
made
him
practice
the
sports
he
thought
his
only
son
should
be
in.
After
all,
he
was
a
great
athlete.
Isadore
preferred
to
read,
listen
to
music,
paint.
Father
never
could
understand
where
he
had
gone
wrong."
She
sighed
"His
son
was
a
disappointment,
you
see.
Not
that
father
would
say
anything
but
after
a
while
his
disapproval
began
to
show.
Isadore
didn't
like
sports,
he
was
quiet
and
reserved."
"Like
you,"
John
said
with
a
smile.
"Yes,
like
me."
Isabelle
smiled
back
sadly.
"He
was
nothing
like
my
father.
By
the
time
he
was
nine
his
'delicacy',
as
father
put
it,
had
become
an
embarrassment.
His
fatherly
devotion
gradually
became
something
ugly
and
twisted.
Isadore
looked
too
delicate
and
girlie,
my
father
would
say
to
him.
He
was
sent
off
to
school
when
he
was
ten."
She
stared
out
the
window
lost
in
her
memories
as
the
tears
rolled
down
her
cheeks.
John
looked
at
her
and
as
he
did
he
could
see
all
the
pain
that
the
telling
of
this
story
gave
her.
She
had
paused
for
a
moment
then
took
a
deep
breath
and
continued.
"He
was
made
to
disappear.
He
stayed
in
school
during
the
holidays
when
other
boys
went
home.
After
the
age
of
ten
Isadore
never
knew
what
a
family
was.
In
the
summer
he
was
sent
off
to
camp.
Mother
would
make
the
yearly
visit
of
course,
to
appease
her
guilt
of
letting
father
get
away
with
this.
But
of
course
she
never
fooled
Isadore.
Not
a
day
went
by
that
someone
didn't
beat
on
him
because
he
was
different
than
the
other
boys.
The
years
dragged
on
forever
for
him.
High
school
graduation
came
and
went
and
they
did
not
go.
He
was
the
valedictorian
in
high
school
and
in
college
and
still
they
never
went.
Fortunately
for
him,
grandfather
had
left
him
a
trust
fund.
Isadore
had
money
to
try
and
make
a
life
for
himself.
Father
had
cut
him
off
and
washed
his
hands
of
him.
He
wanted
nothing
to
do
with
a
fag
for
a
son."
She
covered
her
mouth
as
a
sob
rose
from
within
her.
"Isabelle,
I
would
never
judge...treat
anyone..."
she
interrupted
before
he
could
continue.
"Let
me
speak
John
because
if
you
interrupt
again
I
don't
know
if
I'll
have
the
courage."
He
remained
silent.
"Isadore
went
to
change
his
life
with
the
money
grandfather
left
him.
It
took
many
years
for
him
to
reach
some
sort
of
peace
with
himself
and
his
body.
The
joke
is
that
he
didn't
change
much.
He
was
a
freak
of
nature.
He
had
always
looked
more
like
a
woman
than
a
man
and
after
many
years
of
therapy,
he
physically
and
psychologically
became
the
woman
he
had
always
been.
On
his
twenty
seventh
birthday
he
came
to
the
house
to
see
father.
He
was
led
to
the
library.
When
father
saw
him
he
froze.
They
argued
endlessly.
Isadore
became
suddenly
very
sad."
Isabelle
stopped
for
a
moment
then
continued.
"I
think
until
that
moment
he
had
hoped
to
make
some
kind
of
peace
with
father.
Even
after
all
that
father
had
done
to
him
he
still
loved
him,
you
see."
Isabelle
stared
out
of
the
window
then
continued
to
speak.
"I
think
he
finally
realized
that
he
would
always
be
alone
and
so
he
told
my
father
that
he
would
never
come
back
again.
That
he
would
never
have
to
see
him
again;
to
imagine
him
as
having
died.
The
only
thing
father
said
to
him
oddly
enough
was
'You're
just
like
your
mother'...he
was
walking
towards
the
door
when
father
called
to
him
again,
even
before
he
finished
turning
to
face
him
the
loud
sound
of
the
gun
shot
filled
the
room.
Mother
ran
into
the
room
and
was
shocked
into
action.
She
yelled
for
father
to
call
an
ambulance.
When
he
didn't
move
she
got
up
and
called
herself.
Isadore
was
covered
in
blood...and
father
just
stood
there..."
John
was
going
to
speak
then
waited
for
her
to
finish.
"It
being
a
gun
shot
the
police
were
called
by
the
hospital.
Isadore
told
them
it
had
been
an
accident."
She
finished,
directing
her
eyes
to
his
face.
"Did
he
die?"
John
asked
sympathetically.
She
nodded,
her
eyes
filled
with
tears
and
he
pulled
her
into
his
embrace.
She
left
his
arms
and
said,
"Yes,
Isadore
died
that
night."
She
pulled
away
from
him
and
placed
a
hand
on
a
chair
for
support.
He
placed
his
hand
over
hers.
She
looked
down
at
his
hand
on
hers
and
gently
pulled
hers
away.
She
walked
slowly
back
to
the
window
again.
Turning
very
slowly
she
started
unbuttoning
her
blouse.
His
breath
seemed
to
freeze
in
his
mouth.
He
didn't
understand
as
he
stared
at
her.
Her
eyes
were
blank.
He
could
see
her
lacy
bra
as
she
fully
opened
her
blouse.
He
saw
the
swell
of
her
breasts
and
his
breath
began
to
get
heavy.
She
lowered
the
strap
over
her
shoulder
and
a
scar
was
visible.
She
looked
down
at
her
breast
and
back
up
to
John's
eyes.
He
was
still
mesmerized
with
the
perfect
swell
of
her
breasts
before
he
saw
the
scar.
He
looked
at
the
scar
for
a
long
while
and
then
looked
back
up
to
her
eyes
questioning.
"That's
where
my
father
shot
me,"
she
said
simply
and,
not
looking
at
him,
she
replaced
the
strap
and
turned
away
from
him.
She
stood
very
still
and
a
few
moments
later
she
heard
the
sound
of
a
closing
door
as
she
had
expected.
~~~~~~~~~~
She
covered
her
face
as
sobs
racked
her
body
and
she
dropped
to
the
floor
on
her
knees.
It
had
never
hurt
like
this.
The
pain
she
felt
within
would
surely
kill
her.
"Ohhhh..."
She
cried
with
such
anguish.
Quiet
suddenly
she
was
embraced
and
pulled
up
against
a
strong
chest.
She
pulled
away
in
shock
and
was
met
with
the
eyes
she'd
never
expected
to
behold
again.
She
just
stared
in
confusion.
He
was
there,
he
was
still
there.
She
couldn't
believe
it.
Rising
to
her
feet,
she
quickly
put
some
distance
between
them,
closing
her
blouse
to
cover
her
nakedness
from
him.
She
had
never
faced
this
fear
before.
This
was
new.
She
stared
in
apprehension.
"I
thought
you
had
gone,"
she
finally
spoke.
"No,
I'm
still
here,"
he
said
running
his
fingers
through
his
hair.
She
realized
that
his
actions
had
surprised
him
as
well.
At
that
moment
he
looked
directly
into
her
eyes.
"All
I
know
is
that
I
can't
walk
away
from
you."
He
let
out
a
small
nervous
laugh
and
looked
back
into
her
eyes,
very
seriously.
"The
first
moment
I
saw
you
I
wanted
you
so
bad.
I
spent
three
months
looking
for
you,
going
to
every
Godforsaken
party
I
could.
That
night
I
saw
you
walking
out
onto
the
balcony
I
had
just
about
given
up.
I
felt
foolish
and
ridiculous.
And
for
a
self-absorbed
arrogant
man
like
me,
that's
quite
a
lot
I
assure
you."
he
said,
smiling
nervously.
She
listened
and
he
continued.
Both
only
a
few
feet
away
from
each
other
and
unable
to
move.
They
both
realized
that
the
next
few
minutes
would
change
their
lives
forever.
"You
were
more
than
I
expected.
So
much
more
beautiful
up
close.
Intelligent,
sensitive,
but
sad...so
very
sad.
You
wore
your
sadness
like
you
deserved
it.
I
agreed
not
to
pursue
you.
So
that
I
could
pursue
you..."
he
laughed
softly.
She
was
listening
in
silence
and
before
he
continued
he
became
very
serious
too.
"I
pursued
you.
I
confess,
it
was
only
lust
that
drove
me
on
in
the
beginning.
That's
what
I
told
myself.
And
then
one
afternoon
Whitney
said
it
so
simply.
She
just
said
it
matter
of
factly.
'You
love
her!'
And
I
realized
that
it
had
been
true
from
the
beginning.
That
afternoon
at
the
beach
I
knew
you
loved
me
too.
I
knew
you
needed
time
but
when
I
found
out
that
you
had
gone...I
went
half
out
of
my
mind;
went
back
to
New
York
pretended
that
I
could
just
go
on
without
you.
Then
one
afternoon
I
just
walked
out
of
a
board
meeting
and
never
went
back.
I
started
to
search
for
you."
He
looked
at
her.
They
stood
frozen
in
each
others
eyes.
"I
can't
walk
away
Isabelle.
All
I
know
is
that
I
love
you.
After
all
that
you
have
told
me,
that
is
still
true...I
love
you,
Isabelle."
Tears
started
rolling
down
her
face
and
he
was
the
one
that
walked
towards
her
slowly.
She
was
frightened.
Acceptance
was
a
fragile
thing
to
her.
When
he
stood
in
front
of
her
he
reached
out
for
her
and
pulled
her
into
his
embrace
gently.
Quite
suddenly
she
let
out
a
sob
and
clung
to
him.
He
held
her
against
him
tightly
then.
She
was
so
frail
that
he
was
afraid
that
with
one
more
blow
she
would
brake
and
an
overwhelming
desire
to
protect
her
filled
him
once
more.
All
she
had
ever
known
in
her
life
was
pain.
He
would
fill
her
world
with
love.
He
was
gentle
and
moved
slowly.
He
turned
her
chin
up
gently
and
lightly
kissed
her
lips.
He
stroked
her
hair
and
caressed
her
face.
She
just
stared
into
the
face
of
something
she
had
never
known.
Acceptance.
His
lips
found
hers
again.
This
time
his
mouth
coaxed
a
response
from
her.
He
looked
into
her
eyes
and
took
her
hands
and
put
them
around
his
neck
as
he
pulled
her
closer
to
him.
She
was
frightened.
"I
have
never
been
with
anyone.
I
am
a
woman
in
every
sense
of
the
word
but...I
have
never
been
with
anyone."
"I'm
glad
to
be
the
first,"
he
said
as
his
lips
found
hers.
She
pushed
him
away
from
her
and
held
him
at
bay
with
her
hands
on
his
chest.
"John
I'm
afraid,"
she
said
unable
to
look
into
his
eyes.
"Do
you
love
me?"
He
asked
her
a
simple
question.
She
looked
up
and
said,
"Yes,
oh
yes."
"Then
trust
that
I
love
you
Isabelle,"
he
said
and
proceeded
to
remove
her
blouse.
"Unbutton
my
shirt,"
he
told
her.
Her
hands
were
shaking
as
she
unbuttoned
his
shirt.
He
took
off
his
shirt
and
stood
in
front
of
her
for
a
moment,
then
reached
for
the
clip
in
her
bra
and
unsnapped
it.
He
removed
it
and
her
breasts
rose
as
her
breathing
became
strained.
He
removed
her
slacks
and
silk
panties.
His
eyes
caressed
her
nakedness
and
her
body
felt
as
if
it
would
go
up
on
fire
and
still
he
had
not
touched
her.
He
suddenly
picked
her
up
off
the
ground
and
in
a
passion
filled
voice
asked,
"Where
is
your
bedroom?"
She
pointed
up
the
stairs
and
he
took
two
steps
at
a
time.
He
stood
in
front
of
her
bed
and
gently
put
her
down
on
the
floor.
"Unbuckle
my
belt
Isabelle,"
he
said
to
her.
She
stood
frozen
with
fear.
"You
have
to
want
me
as
much
as
I
want
you.
Trust
your
feelings
Isabelle,"
he
said
to
her.
Her
hands
clumsily
undid
his
belt.
Her
breathing
became
erratic.
He
grabbed
her
by
the
arms
so
she
would
not
run
away.
"Don't
push
me
away
Isabelle.
I
want
you
so
much.
I'll
take
off
the
rest
of
my
clothes
myself."
He
removed
what
remained
of
his
clothing.
He
reached
out
for
her
and
slowly
pulled
her
towards
him.
He
found
it
hard
to
inhale
as
her
naked
body
pressed
against
him.
Her
lips
went
up
to
meet
his.
He
was
trying
to
control
his
need
for
her.
He
had
to
be
gentle.
His
hands
caressed
her
body
and
he
could
feel
the
surrender
in
her
kisses.
He
stroked
her
breasts
and
his
thumb
teased
her
hardened
nipples
until
a
groan
of
pleasure
escaped
her
lips.
He
leaned
forward
and
slowly
they
fell
onto
the
bed.
He
lay
above
her
kissing
her
mouth
as
his
hands
stroked
her
body.
He
quickly
sat
up
and
brought
her
up
with
him.
He
held
her
thighs
and
slowly
pulled
her
towards
him
until
she
was
sitting
on
his
legs,
straddling
him.
Slowly
he
would
make
her
his.
He
pressed
her
breasts
against
him,
and
his
kisses
excited
her
once
more.
Before
she
realized
he
was
lying
on
top
of
her
again
but
this
time
her
legs
were
open
to
him.
He
slowly
introduced
himself
inside
her.
Her
eyes
flew
open
as
he
first
entered
her.
His
mouth
covered
hers
and
her
protests
died
there.
He
was
gentle
as
he
introduced
her
to
the
ways
of
love.
And
after
he
had
pleasured
her
he
allowed
himself
to
come
inside
her.
She
was
his.
He
held
her
tightly
through
the
night.
Holding
her
very
close,
the
last
thought
he
had
before
sleep
overtook
him
was
that
she
was
finally
his
and
he
would
never
let
her
go.
~~~~~~~~~~
Daylight
hitting
his
face
woke
him.
He
looked
around
and
in
his
arms
was
a
sleeping
Isabelle.
He
smiled
to
himself
and
with
the
back
of
his
finger
caressed
her
dormant
face.
Her
eyes
slowly
opened.
His
lips
kissed
hers
lightly.
She
looked
into
his
eyes
searching.
He
pulled
her
close
to
him
to
reassure
her.
"John?"
He
did
not
let
her
continue.
His
lips
sought
hers
and
this
time
he
rode
the
wave
of
his
passion.
She
responded
to
his
need
of
her
with
passion
of
her
own.
They
made
love
until
both
hungers
were
satiated.
The
noon
sun
shone
through
the
window
and
John
lay
next
to
Isabelle
holding
her
close
to
him.
"Where
do
we
go
from
here?"
She
asked.
"To
happily
ever
after,"
he
said
and
kissed
her.
She
sat
up
pulling
the
sheet
up
with
her.
He
sat
up
next
to
her.
He
put
his
arms
around
her
and
her
head
slowly
came
to
rest
on
his
shoulder.
"Woman
you
better
have
some
food
in
this
house
because
if
you
don't
I'm
going
to
have
to
satisfy
my
hunger
with
you
again,"
he
said
to
her
laughing.
She
lifted
her
head
and
looked
into
his
smiling
face.
She
smiled
back.
"How
about
an
omelet?"
He
rolled
out
of
bed.
"Coffee!
I'd
love
some
coffee..."
He
stood
before
her
naked.
She
looked
away.
"Darling,
you
know
every
part
of
me
don't
look
away,"
he
said
to
her
gently.
She
looked
at
him
and
he
smiled.
She
got
up
and
walked
towards
him.
"You
are
the
most
beautiful
woman
I've
ever
seen.
I'm
a
lucky
man,"
he
said
proudly.
She
stood
in
front
of
him
silently
and
smiled.
"Now
let's
get
me
fed.
I'm
starving."
He
bent
down
and
started
grabbing
his
trousers.
She
went
and
put
a
silk
robe
on.
They
both
went
downstairs
together
to
make
breakfast.
~~~~~~~~~~
They
played
tourists
and
ran
around
like
two
children
in
a
candy
shop.
One
afternoon
they
went
to
see
the
city
of
Malaga.
Isabelle
wanted
to
see
some
Arab
fortresses
there.
"Okay,
you
obviously
know
something
about
where
we
are
going
so
do
tell,"
he
joked
with
her.
"Well,
okay,
I'll
be
the
tour
guide,"
she
laughed.
"Here
in
Malaga,
standing
at
the
top
of
Gilbralfaro,
is
the
Alcazabe."
She
was
looking
at
a
guidebook
as
she
spoke.
"What
is
a
Gilbralfaro
and
a
Alcazabe?"
She
looked
at
him
with
a
humorous
smile.
"Sorry...
Gilbralfaro
is
a
hill
overlooking
the
bay
and
the
Alcazabe
is
a
Arab
fortress
constructed
during
the
8th
and
9th
century.
There
is
also
a
cathedral
which
was
built
in
1528."
"Well,
I
can
see
I
don't
have
any
problems.
I
have
a
great
tour
guide."
He
was
smiling
at
her.
"This
city
has
a
long
history..."
She
stopped
when
she
saw
him
smiling
at
her.
"What?
Why
are
you
looking
at
me
like
that?"
She
asked
sweetly.
"You're
beautiful....
Not
only
that,
but
brilliant
too."
"Flattery
will
get
you
everywhere,"
she
joked
in
return.
They
kept
walking
and
laughing.
"Oh,
the
artist
Pablo
Picasso
was
born
here
too."
"Is
that
the
type
of
art
that
you
like?"
He
asked,
remembering
her
comments
about
liking
to
paint.
"Well,
I
like
his
early
works,
the
latter
work
I'm
not
too
crazy
about."
The
rest
of
the
day
was
spent
simply
sharing
each
other's
company
and
the
scenery.
They
started
back
to
Marbella
as
it
began
to
get
dark.
"Tired?"
He
asked
as
they
walked
back
to
the
car.
"Yes,
but
happy,"
she
answered
him
with
a
smile.
Day
after
day
they
found
new
treasures
that
they
made
their
own.
Another
day
they
went
to
Granada
to
see
the
Alhambra
Palace,
the
greatest
Moorish
monument
in
Spain
built
around
the
13th
century.
Its
beauty
overwhelmed
Isabelle.
Occasionally,
they
would
spend
the
night
in
these
cities.
But
the
city
they
both
liked
best
was
Sevilla
with
its
winding
streets,
Moorish
architecture
and
large
houses
with
courtyards
filled
with
flowers
and
fountains.
One
day
we
will
come
back
and
live
here,
John
thought
to
himself.
They
walked
through
the
city
holding
hands,
stealing
kisses
from
one
another,
overwhelmed
by
the
beauty
of
the
city
long
gone
by.
The
next
few
weeks
were
the
happiest
Isabelle
had
ever
known.
John
had
been
as
good
as
his
word.
He
had
made
her
happy.
He
was
the
most
remarkable
man
she
had
ever
met.
She
found
herself
really
and
truly
in
love.
They
spent
the
mornings
exploring
different
and
interesting
places
in
beautiful
Marbella.
Their
afternoons
were
spent
under
the
glorious
sun
in
the
beach
and
the
nights...the
nights
were
spent
making
love.
He
had
taught
her
to
give
herself
completely
to
him.
She
gave
him
her
passion
and
revelled
in
it.
She
was
truly
happy.
There
was
nothing
she
would
have
denied
him.
He
had
slowly
become
her
life.
One
afternoon
as
they
walked
in
the
phone
was
ringing.
Isabelle
picked
it
up.
Her
face
immediately
sobered.
She
handed
the
receiver
to
John.
He
took
it
and
followed
her
movements
with
concern
in
his
eyes.
"John
this
is
your
father,"
he
heard
coming
from
the
receiver.
"Dad,
how
did
you
get
this
number?"
"You
checked
into
the
office."
"What
is
it
Dad?"
"What
is
it?
Did
you
think
we
might
want
to
hear
from
you
more
than
two
or
three
times
this
past
year?"
"I'm
sorry
if
I
worried
you
and
Mother,"
John
apologized.
He
realized
that
he
should
have
called
them,
they
were
his
parents.
They
loved
him
and
were
worried
for
him.
"The
girl
that
answered,
is
that
her
John?"
His
father
asked
with
obvious
concern
in
his
voice.
"Yes,
Dad.
Her
name
is
Isabelle.
I'm
trying
to
convince
her
to
marry
me,"
he
said
looking
at
Isabelle.
She
turned
to
face
him
in
obvious
surprise.
"I
just
proposed
to
her
Dad,
with
you
on
the
line.
She
looks
like
she's
in
shock.
I
better
hang
up
and
kiss
her
before
she
says
no."
He
couldn't
stop
the
smile
on
his
face.
"Good
luck
son,
call
us
soon,"
and
with
that,
he
hung
up.
John
replaced
the
receiver
and
walked
over
to
Isabelle
very
slowly.
She
just
stared
not
believing
what
she
had
heard.
"Marry
me?"
He
asked
now
standing
in
front
of
her.
She
said
nothing
so
he
asked
again.
"Marry
me?"
She
was
about
to
say
something
when
he
placed
his
finger
on
her
mouth.
"I'll
only
accept
a
yes."
He
took
her
in
his
arms
and
kissed
her
passionately.
Her
arms
went
up
around
his
neck.
He
spoke
with
his
lips
brushing
hers.
"Say
yes....say
yes."
He
kissed
her
again
and
again.
She
would
have
agreed
to
anything
and
the
word
came
easily
from
her
lips.
"Yes."
He
picked
her
up
and
whirled
her
around
the
room.
They
both
laughed
heartily.
~~~~~~~~~~
Two
weeks
later
they
were
on
a
plane
to
New
York.
They
had
been
married
in
Spain.
Isabelle
was
happier
than
she
had
ever
been
in
her
life.
But
with
all
this
happiness
she
found
herself
not
able
to
shake
off
a
sense
of
dread.
John
put
his
hand
over
hers
and
leaned
over
to
kiss
her.
"What
is
it,
darling?"
"I'm
afraid
John,"
she
said
to
him
as
her
eyes
sought
his.
"Nothing
to
be
afraid
of,"
he
said,squeezing
her
hand.
"My
parents
are
rather
nice
people,"
he
kidded
her.
"My
friends
are
not
that
bad
either."
Even
as
he
finished
saying
that
she
got
visibly
upset.
"I
should
never
have
married
you,"
she
said
near
to
tears.
"Isabelle..."
he
started
to
say,
but
she
turned
her
face
away.
"Okay,
no
friends,
just
you
and
me."
He
spoke
gently
to
her.
She
turned
to
him
with
tear
filled
eyes.
"Nothing...I
need
nothing
but
you."
And
he
kissed
her
lightly
"John..."
she
was
about
to
say
something
else
but
he
interrupted
before
she
could
speak.
"Don't
you
know
that
you
are
my
love
and
that
you
are
my
life.
Without
you
there
is
nothing."
He
kissed
her
and
that
was
the
end
of
that.
~~~~~~~~~~
Karl
and
Vanessa
Stanton
met
them
in
the
First
Class
terminal
of
Iberia
Airlines
at
Kennedy
Airport.
Almost
as
soon
as
she
saw
them
she
knew
this
wasn't
going
to
be
easy.
Karl
quickly
walked
up
to
meet
them.
He
hugged
John
and
turned
to
her
with
a
smile.
"You
must
be
Isabelle,"
he
said,
kissing
her
on
the
cheek.
She
smiled
nervously
holding
on
to
John's
hand.
Vanessa
Stanton
however
approached
them
quite
differently.
She
was
clearly
upset.
John
took
a
step
forward
to
head
her
off.
Karl
noticed
John's
defensive
attitude
towards
Isabelle
instantly
and
cut
off
his
wife.
"Vanessa,
my
dear
this
is
our
Isabelle.
We
finally
get
to
meet
the
woman
that
our
son
went
half
way
around
the
world
to
find."
He
was
charming
but
his
wife
knew
that
he
was
letting
her
know
how
important
this
woman
was
to
her
son.
Vanessa
Stanton
knew
when
to
pick
her
fights
and
when
to
wait
for
the
right
moment
and
this
clearly
was
not
a
good
time
to
voice
her
disapproval.
She
hugged
her
son
and
turned
to
Isabelle
with
a
frosty
smile.
"I'm
glad
to
meet
you
Isabelle,"
she
managed
to
say
politely.
John
was
not
fooled
and
at
that
moment
a
line
was
drawn
between
him
and
his
mother.
"It's
my
pleasure
Mrs.
Stanton,"
Isabelle
answered
politely.
"You
are
definitely
quite
beautiful."
This
was
said
in
a
very
matter
of
fact
tone.
"Thank
you."
"Mercer...I'm
not
familiar
with
the
name.
Is
your
family
from
abroad?"
asked
Vanessa.
"You
don't
know
her
family,
mother,"
interrupted
John.
"I
see.
Well,
where
are
you
from
my
dear?
From
what
I
hear
you
seem
to
be
all
over
the
world
but
in
no
particular
place."
Vanessa
Stanton's
sarcasam
was
obvious.
John
was
about
to
say
something
when
Isabelle
jumped
in.
She
did
not
want
to
be
the
cause
of
a
rift
between
mother
and
son.
"I
never
had
someone
who
was
important
enough
to
me
to
build
a
home
with."
As
she
spoke
she
looked
at
John.
He
rewarded
her
with
a
big
smile.
Vanessa
saw
her
son's
face.
He
was
happy.
At
that
moment
she
chose
caution.
After
all,
there
would
be
plenty
of
time
to
find
out
about
the
woman
her
son
had
chosen
to
marry.
"Mother,
it
was
a
long
flight
and
we're
very
tired.
Why
don't
we
get
together
for
dinner
tomorrow?"
John
spoke
to
his
mother
in
a
stern
voice.
Vanessa
Stanton
realized
that
this
fight
might
cost
her
son,
so
she
withdrew.
"Yes,
of
course,
you
must
both
be
exhausted.
Tomorrow
will
be
soon
enough.
We'll
get
to
know
each
other
then."
She
replied
to
his
statement,
but
directed
her
comments
to
Isabelle.
"Mother!"
John
got
immediately
defensive.
"Vanessa,
we
should
let
them
go
home."
Karl
jumped
in
to
avert
a
confrontation.
"John,
darling,
let's
go
home,"
said
Isabelle
softly
putting
her
arm
through
his.
He
looked
down
and
smiled
at
her
as
his
hand
covered
hers.
He
liked
the
sound
of
that.
"Yes,
let's
go
home,"
he
said
to
his
wife.
"It
was
nice
meeting
you
both.
I
love
John
very
much.
All
I
want
to
do
is
make
him
happy."
John
smiled
at
his
wife's
words.
It
was
the
first
he
felt
her
inner
strength.
"Welcome
to
the
family
my
dear,"
Karl
told
her
with
genuine
gladness.
"Well,
we'll
see
you
tomorrow
then."
John
put
his
arm
around
Isabelle's
waist
possessively.
"Good-bye
Mother,"
he
said
as
they
walked
away.
Vanessa
was
going
to
say
something
until
she
felt
her
husband's
hand
on
her
arm.
They
both
watched
silently
as
John
and
Isabelle
walked
away.
"What
did
you
think
you
were
doing?"
Karl
Stanton
asked
his
wife,
facing
her.
"Trying
to
find
out
who
our
son
married."
"Vanessa,
this
one
is
different...
tread
lightly,"
he
warned.
Vanessa
looked
at
her
husband
and
back
at
John
and
Isabelle.
"Give
her
a
chance
Vanessa,
don't
fight
John
on
this,
you
won't
win."
~~~~~~~~~~
Two
hours
later
a
limousine
pulled
up
in
front
of
one
of
the
most
prestigious
neighborhoods
in
Central
Park
South.
It
was
too
close
to
home
for
Isabelle
but,
this
was
John's
home
and
she
promised
herself
she
would
try.
The
house
was
beautiful,
as
were
most
of
the
brownstones
in
the
area.
They
were
filled
with
large
rooms
with
mahogany
panels
and
guilded
frames.
This
was
home
or
at
least
she
would
try
to
make
it
her
home.
"Change
whatever
you
like
Isabelle,
I
want
this
to
be
our
home,"
John
said
as
he
took
her
into
his
arms.
He
picked
her
up
and
carried
her
up
the
stairs.
~~~~~~~~~~
John
slept
on
the
bed
as
she
stood
by
the
window
looking
out
onto
the
moonlit
street.
New
York.
She
had
never
wanted
to
come
back
here
again.
She
should
never
have
agreed
to
come
back
here
with
John.
But,
he
had
wanted
to
make
her
part
of
his
life.
And
his
life
was
here.
She
thought
that
when
she
agreed
to
come
here
that
everything
somehow
would
work
itself
out.
She
had
been
naive.
John
had
been
a
mistake.
She
should
never
have
married
him.
All
this
someday
would
cause
him
pain
and
shame.
If
anyone
were
to
find
out
he
would
be
ostracized
from
his
world
and
perhaps
his
family.
She
hadn't
thought
any
of
this
through.
All
she
had
seen
was
the
happiness
that
he
offered.
She
loved
him
more
than
life
itself,
and
she
hadn't
allowed
herself
to
think.
Now
she
realized
she
should
have
thought
of
him,
of
his
life,
of
his
family
and
of
his
future.
How
had
this
gotten
so
crazy?
All
she
had
ever
wanted
she
had
with
him.
Why
was
it
such
a
crime
to
want
a
life
like
anybody
else's?
Her
whole
life
had
been
a
lie.
Her
whole
existence
had
been
an
abomination,
just
as
her
father
had
said.
She
should
have
let
him
go.
Every
day
she
prayed
for
one
more
day
with
him.
Because,
every
day
was
borrowed
time.
She
felt
her
body
weaken
and
yet
her
spirit
had
been
so
filled.
John
had
brought
her
joy.
If
only
for
a
little
while.
She
would
never
have
known
happiness
if
not
for
him.
Her
life
had
been
lonely
and
bleak,
but
with
him
came
warmth
and
the
light
of
day.
She
prayed
to
the
God
of
her
childhood.
The
one
that
her
father
had
said
did
not
love
her
because
of
what
she
was.
But
hope
is
what
had
sustained
her
her
whole
life.
She
hoped
that
God
had
not
forgotten
her
and
that
he
would
grant
her
a
few
more
moments
and
then
take
her
away
when
the
right
time
came.
She
walked
back
to
their
bed
and
saw
the
light
of
the
moon
reflect
on
John's
face.
Was
it
wrong
to
love
him?
She
got
into
bed
and
her
body
sought
his
embrace.
She
slept
badly
and
when
she
woke
John
was
not
next
to
her.
She
looked
around,
dazed
with
the
lack
of
sleep
and
then
she
heard
the
sound
of
the
shower.
She
looked
at
her
watch
on
the
nightstand.
It
was
already
9
am.
She
was
normally
an
early
riser,
always
waking
before
John.
But,
lately
it
had
become
harder
to
get
up
in
the
mornings.
Her
sleep
had
become
heavier.
Taking
a
deep
breath
she
got
out
of
bed.
When
John
came
out
of
the
shower
she
was
sitting
in
front
of
the
dressing
table
brushing
her
hair.
He
walked
over
to
her
and
kissed
the
side
of
her
face
from
behind.
She
could
see
a
smile
on
his
face
from
the
mirror
in
front
of
her.
"Good
morning
darling,"
he
said
cheerfully.
"Good
morning
to
you
too."
He
walked
over
to
his
dressing
room.
From
inside
she
heard
him
ask.
"What
would
you
like
to
do
today?"
She
stopped
brushing
her
hair,
surprised.
"I
thought
you
would
be
going
into
the
office
today."
He
came
back
into
the
room
holding
some
trousers.
"On
our
first
day
home?
No,
not
for
a
few
days.
The
most
important
thing
is
to
make
you
glad
that
you
came."
He
walked
back
to
his
dressing
room.
She
turned
around
on
her
chair.
"What
do
you
mean?"
"Isabelle,
I
know
you
remember.
You
can't
fool
me,
darling.
I
know
you
didn't
want
to
come
back
to
the
States."
After
a
few
moments
of
silence
he
came
out
of
the
dressing
room
fully
clothed.
"Is
your
family
from
New
York?"
He
asked
point
blank.
She
turned
her
back
to
him.
This
was
going
to
be
impossible.
"This
isn't
going
to
work
John.
In
Spain
we
had
no
baggage.
I
don't
know
if
I
can
do
this."
She
was
unable
to
control
her
nervousness.
"Do
I
know
them?"
He
was
able
to
see
right
through
her.
"How
would
I
know?
I
can't
talk
about
this!"
She
was
getting
agitated.
Standing
up,
she
paced
nervously.
He
walked
over
to
her
and
held
her
in
place.
"We
will
face
whatever
comes
Isabelle,"
he
said
looking
into
her
eyes.
She
shook
her
head
and
pulled
away
from
him,
going
to
stand
in
front
of
the
window.
Looking
out
onto
the
street
she
said
"
I
hate
this
city.
I'm
always
afraid
here."
At
that
moment
he
realized
that
this
was
the
past
she
left
behind.
He
stood
behind
her
and
pulled
her
to
him
until
her
body
was
leaning
against
his.
"Okay
darling,
let
me
wrap
a
few
things
up
and
we
will
go
live
were
ever
you
want."
He
spoke
into
her
hair.
She
turned
around
quickly
to
face
him.
"You
mean
it?"
She
asked
unable
to
contain
her
excitement.
"Yes,
I
do,"
he
said
to
her.
"Just
a
few
weeks,
then
we
can
live
anywhere
in
the
world
you
want."
She
went
into
his
arms
and
breathed
in
a
sigh
of
relief.
~~~~~~~~~~
Whitney
came
to
call
that
afternoon
with
John's
mother.
"I'm
sorry
about
having
to
cancel
dinner
tonight,
my
dear,
but
Karl
had
an
urgent
business
matter
to
attend
to.
I
can't
say
I'm
disappointed,"
said
Vanessa
Stanton.
"Mother!"
John
exclaimed.
"So
that
I
can
give
you
a
proper
dinner,"
she
told
her
son.
He
was
about
to
say
something
when
she
spoke
again.
"I
will
give
a
dinner
to
introduce
Isabelle
to
our
closest
friends."
"Isabelle
and
I
want
some
privacy
for
awhile,
after
all,
we
are
still
newlyweds,"
John
reminded
her.
Whitney
sat
silently
observing
Isabelle's
silence
and
growing
nervousness.
She
placed
her
hand
over
the
other
woman's
and
gave
her
an
encouraging
squeeze.
Whitney
knew
that
Vanessa
Stanton
could
be
extremely
hard
to
take
at
times.
Isabelle
looked
into
Whitney's
eyes
and
realized
she
had
an
ally.
Whitney
then
joined
the
conversation.
"Perhaps
we
should
wait
awhile
longer,
Vanessa.
When
you're
in
love
crowds
are
a
bore."
"No,
nonsense,
I've
already
called
some
friends."
"Then
cancel!"
Stated
John
in
irritation.
Mother
and
son
were
at
a
standoff.
"John,
perhaps
we
can..."
started
saying
Isabelle.
"No
Isabelle!"
John
looked
as
his
mother
as
he
spoke.
"Why
are
we
going
to
have
a
dinner
party
when
you
and
I
don't
want
one?
Mother
is
going
to
have
to
learn
that
she
can't
always
have
her
way."
Vanessa
stood
up,
furious.
"Well
perhaps
if
you
hadn't
gone
off
and
married
who
the
hell
knows
whom
I
wouldn't
have
to
do
this!"
She
spat
out
at
him.
John
jumped
to
his
feet
and
Isabelle
rose
and
held
on
to
his
arm.
"John
please,"
she
said
softly.
"Her
name
is
Isabelle.
Get
use
to
it!"
John
yelled
at
his
mother.
Whitney
got
up
and
stood
next
to
Vanessa.
"Vanessa,
please
let
this
go,"
she
said
nervously.
"He
thinks
he
can
just
abandon
everything
and
everyone
for
over
a
year,
chasing
after
some
woman
that
no
one
seems
to
know
anything
about!"
"Get
out
mother!
Get
out
now!"
John
hissed
menacingly
under
his
breath.
"Vanessa
please!"
Whitney
said,
taking
hold
of
Vanessa's
arm.
"Who
doesn't
want
this
dinner
her
or
you?
Are
you
ashamed
of
the
choice
you've
made
for
a
wife--"
Before
she
finished
speaking,
John
grabbed
her
by
the
arm
and
physically
hauled
her
to
the
door.
The
world
suddenly
started
to
spin
and
for
Isabelle
it
all
got
dark.
~~~~~~~~~~
She
woke
up
in
her
bedroom
with
a
very
concerned
face
hovering
over
her.
"My
God,
you're
awake.
I've
been
going
out
of
my
mind.
The
doctor
is
on
his
way.
I
couldn't
wake
you."
John
was
rambling
nervously.
"I'm
all
right.
What
happened?"
She
felt
a
little
disoriented.
"My
mother."
He
reminded
her.
"Oh
yes,
did
I
pass
out?"
"You
just
suddenly
fainted.
I've
never
been
more
scared
in
my
life,"
he
said
to
her
still
very
upset.
"I'm
all
right,
it's
just
the
excitement
of
the
past
few
days
that's
all,"
she
responded
gently.
"I
still
want
the
doctor
to
see
you,"
he
told
her.
"No
need,
I'm
fine,"
she
said
as
her
hand
went
to
caress
his
face.
He
pulled
her
into
his
embrace.
"I
love
you
Isabelle,"
he
said
holding
her
tightly.
"I
know."
His
mouth
sought
hers.
Isabelle
gave
herself
completely
to
her
passion
for
John.
She
would
love
him
for
as
long
as
she
could.
~~~~~~~~~~
It
had
been
over
a
week
since
the
incident
with
John's
mother.
His
father
had
come
by
to
smooth
things
over
but
to
no
avail.
John
knew
that
the
ice
he
was
on
was
thin
and
it
seemed
to
be
getting
thinner
the
longer
they
stayed
in
New
York.
Karl
hadn't
taken
the
news
of
his
leaving
the
States
very
well.
But
John
saw
no
other
way.
Isabelle
was
trying
hard
to
hide
her
growing
apprehension.
It
was
taking
its
toll.
He
knew
she
wasn't
sleeping
well,
although
she
never
said
anything.
And
when
she
did
sleep
it
was
not
quite
right
in
his
mind.
It
had
become
hard
to
wake
her
at
times
and
it
scared
him.
Occasionally,
he
would
catch
her
daydreaming
of
things
far
away.
He
was
losing
her.
He
could
feel
it,
but
he
couldn't
let
that
happen.
They
had
to
leave
and
as
quickly
as
possible.
Something
was
wrong,
but
he
just
couldn't
figure
out
what.
He
would
wrap
things
up
as
quickly
as
possible.
He
owed
his
father
at
least
that
much.
Unfortunately,
in
order
to
close
everything
up
he
had
to
put
in
long
hours
in
the
office
and
it
always
worried
him
to
leave
her
alone
too
long.
When
he
would
arrive
home
and
find
her
there
he
could
breath
easier
again.
Every
night
he
would
make
love
to
her
to
reassure
him
self
that
she
was
still
his.
He
needed
her
like
the
very
air
he
breathed.
~~~~~~~~~~
Two
weeks
later
Vanessa
Stanton
called
on
Isabelle.
When
Phillip,
the
butler,
told
her
that
Vanessa
Stanton
was
downstairs
in
the
sitting
room
she
was
taken
aback.
She
hesitated
for
an
instant
and
then
went
downstairs.
Isabelle
could
feel
her
pulse
speeding
up.
She
took
a
deep
breath
before
she
turned
the
door
handle.
Walking
inside
the
sitting
room
she
came
face
to
face
with
John's
mother.
Vanessa
Stanton
spoke
first.
"I
believe
I
owe
you
an
apology,"
she
said
right
off
the
bat.
benefit
a
new
exhibit.
Vanessa
called
and
invited
Isabelle,
asking
her
to
bring
John.
Isabelle
wanted
so
very
much
to
make
peace
between
them
before
they
left,
so
she
gladly
agreed,
and
John
went
along
with
it.
Isabelle
was
glad
to
make
this
consolatory
gesture,
after
all
she
was
taking
Vanessa's
son
to
live
outside
the
country.
Vanessa
had
been
very
forthcoming
with
her
approval
of
their
marriage
and
Isabelle
was
glad
for
John.
The
cocktail
party
was
scheduled
for
8
PM.
John
and
Isabelle
arrived
shortly
after
9.
Whitney
caught
up
to
them
as
soon
as
they
arrived.
The
place
was
jammed
with
people
and
filled
with
talk
and
music.
In
one
corner
was
a
quartet
playing
Mozart.
John
introduced
Isabelle
to
a
few
people
and
all
was
going
splendidly.
He
went
to
get
her
and
Whitney
each
a
flute
of
champagne.
Although
Isabelle
had
met
Whitney
in
the
Hamptons
through
mutual
acquaintances,
since
their
arrival
in
New
York
she
had
been
a
true
friend.
Isabelle
knew
that
she
had
helped
to
smooth
things
over
with
John's
mother,
and
that
she
really
cared
for
John.
Whitney
had
been
an
only
child
and
she
and
John
had
kind
of
grown
up
together
since
their
parents
had
been
close
friends.
"When
are
you
two
leaving?"
Whitney
asked
Isabelle.
"In
a
week
or
so,"
Isabelle
replied
with
a
smile.
"If
you
ever
need
to
talk,
or
a
friend's
point
of
view,
I'm
available
Isabelle."
Isabelle
looked
at
her.
"Thanks..."
she
said
simply,
unable
to
continue.
Perhaps
one
day
she
might
be
able
to
trust
other
people
but
for
Isabelle
it
was
one
day
at
a
time.
Trust
was
hard
for
her.
John
was
walking
through
the
crowd
towards
the
bar
when
Franklin
Benjamin
Caldwell
met
him.
"John,
my
boy
how
have
you
been?"
Franklin
asked.
"Franklin,
it's
great
to
see
you.
I'm
doing
fine,"
John
answered
as
he
shook
hands
with
the
older
man.
"The
last
time
Karl
and
I
had
lunch
you
were
abroad."
"Yes,
I
got
married,"
John
told
him
happily.
"Married?"
Franklin
asked
in
surprise.
"Yes,
she's
here.
I'll
bring
her
over
and
introduce
you."
"That's
wonderful,
my
boy.
I'm
sure
she's
lovely."
"Lovely,
is
an
understatement.
She's
damn
beautiful
and
the
perfect
woman
for
me,"
John
said
proudly
of
his
wife.
"Well
then
I
can
hardly
wait
to
meet
her.
Karl
and
Vanessa
must
be
estatic."
Franklin
was
truly
happy
for
John.
"Yes,
she's
very
special,"
John
said
as
he
walked
towards
the
bar.
Isabelle
and
Whitney
were
laughing
when
he
got
back
with
their
drinks.
"Darling,
someone
wants
to
meet
you,"
John
said
as
he
handed
Isabelle
her
drink.
"Okay."
She
smiled
at
him.
"Excuse
us
Whitney,
be
back
in
a
sec."
John
was
incredibly
happy.
The
night
had
been
a
success.
Isabelle
had
seen
that
things
were
working
out
after
all.
She
was
still
looking
at
John,
finishing
a
sentence
with
a
smile
on
her
face
when
they
stopped
and
she
heard
him
say.
"Isabelle,
darling,
these
are
very
old
and
good
friends
of
my
parents
and
mine.
Franklin
Benjamin
Caldwell
and
his
wife
Victoria."
No
sooner
had
he
finished
saying
their
names
when
Isabelle
turned
her
head.
She
froze
instantly.
"Franklin,
Victoria,
this
is
my
wife
Isabelle,"
John
said
happily
until
he
noticed
that
something
was
very
wrong.
He
looked
from
a
one
face
to
another.
"Isabelle?"
he
asked
with
obvious
concern.
"Let's
go
John!"
she
said
turning
to
face
him.
He
looked
from
her
to
Franklin
who
said
nothing.
"Isabelle...."
he
started
to
say.
"Please!
Let's
go!"
She
started
walking
away.
John
looked
at
Franklin
and
then
went
after
his
wife.
He
caught
up
with
her
as
she
went
through
one
of
the
doors
leading
out
to
the
courtyard.
"Isabelle,
what's
wrong?"
He
grabbed
her
arm
and
turned
her
around
to
face
him.
"Let's
go.
Take
me
home.
Please
take
me
home."
She
began
to
beg
him
hysterically.
John
continued
up
to
their
bedroom.
She
lay
very
still
and
looked
very
pale.
Her
eyes
were
far
away
as
tears
rolled
down
her
cheeks.
He
was
angry
and
at
the
same
time
he
was
scared.
So
angry
not
to
have
been
able
to
protected
her.
Within
minutes
he
saw
all
the
pain
and
anguish
she
must
have
lived
through.
He
remembered
how
she
just
cringed
and
cried
as
her
father
reached
for
her.
How
could
people
that
he
cared
for
and
admired
have
been
the
same
people
that
had
been
so
cruel
and
callous
with
the
woman
that
he
loved?
He
just
stared
at
her
feeling
helpless.
Nothing
he
could
say,
nothing
at
this
moment,
to
erase
all
the
hurt
inside
her.
And
he
was
afraid.
He
was
afraid
for
her.
She
was
lost
in
her
memories,
reliving
a
past
that
was
only
filled
with
pain
for
her.
He
could
see
it
in
her
eyes.
She
was
far
away.
He
sat
down
next
to
her
and
pulled
her
into
his
arms.
He
held
her
close
and
stroked
her
hair.
She
cried
herself
to
sleep
in
his
arms
and
he
watched
over
her
as
she
slept.
She
suddenly
woke
in
the
middle
of
the
night
and
hid
her
face
on
his
chest.
He
held
her
tightly.
She
tried
pulling
away
and
he
refused
to
let
go.
She
looked
into
his
eyes
and
all
he
saw
there
were
tears
about
to
be
shed.
He
kissed
her
passionately,
tasting
her
tears
as
they
rolled
down
her
cheeks.
He
kissed
her
eyes
and
her
forehead;
he
kissed
her
neck
and
started
stroking
her
body
in
places
he
knew
excited
her.
"No
John..."
she
was
unable
to
finish
the
sentence
when
his
mouth
covered
hers.
He
kissed
her
until
he
felt
her
response.
"You
still
want
me?"
She
questioned
in
a
whispered.
"I've
never
stopped,"
he
answered
as
he
sought
her
mouth
once
more.
He
made
love
to
her
more
than
once.
His
passion
for
her
would
burn
out
all
her
doubts.
~~~~~~~~~~
Isabelle
did
not
get
up
in
the
morning.
She
seemed
lifeless
and
depressed,
and
looked
weak
and
frail.
He
would
arrange
for
their
immediate
departure.
The
only
person
he
trusted
to
stay
with
her
was
Whitney.
He
called
her
to
stay
with
Isabelle
until
he
came
back
later
that
day.
Whitney
asked
no
questions,
just
agreeing
to
come.
He
left
immediately
after
telling
Isabelle
that
he
was
going
out
to
arrange
their
departure.
She
smiled
but
did
not
try
to
get
out
of
bed.
He
was
more
concerned
than
he
showed.
"Whitney
will
be
here
in
a
few
minutes
darling,
and
I'll
be
back
soon."
He
kissed
her
and
walked
out.
A
few
minutes
later
Philip
knocked
on
her
bedroom
door.
"I'm
sorry
to
disturb
you
madam,
but
a
woman
downstairs
saying
she's
your
mother.
She
would
like
to
see
you,"
he
announced
to
Isabelle.
It
took
her
but
a
moment
to
recover
from
the
surprise.
"I'll
be
right
down
Philip,
please,
ask
her
to
wait."
She
slowly
started
getting
out
of
bed.
She
went
down
the
stairs
slowly.
When
she
reached
the
lower
landing
she
felt
weak
and
a
little
dizzy.
Phillip
walked
towards
her.
"Madam,
are
you
feeling
all
right?
Shall
I
call
Mr.
Stanton?"
His
concern
was
evident
in
his
tone
of
voice.
"No,
thank
you
Philip,
I'll
be
all
right,"
she
said,
straightening
up
and
walked
slowly
into
the
drawing
room.
Before
last
night
she
hadn't
seen
her
mother
in
seven
years.
She
had
gotten
older,
of
course,
and
she
looked
very
tired.
"How
are
you
feeling?"
Victoria
Caldwell
asked
her
daughter.
"How
am
I
suppose
to
be
feeling
mother?"
Isabelle
asked
a
question
of
her
own.
"You
don't
look
well,
sit
down."
Indeed,
feeling
weak,
Isabelle
sat
down.
"Why
are
you
here
mother?"
"I
was
worried
about
you
last
night,"
she
said
as
she
sat
down
across
from
Isabelle.
"I'm
fine,"
Isabelle
replied
softly.
"You
should
have
taken
your
medication
right
away.
You
know
what
the
doctor
said
to
you.
If
you
don't..."
Isabelle
interrupted
her
mother
before
she
could
finish.
"I
know
what
he
said
mother,"
she
said
wearily.
"Why
didn't
you
take
the
medication?"
"I
haven't
taken
it
for
over
four
months,"
she
answered
and
Victoria
was
not
surprised.
"I
thought
it
might
be
something
like
that,"
she
said
sadly.
"Well,
its
good
to
see
that
you
know
me
so
well
since
you
never
saw
me
much,
mother,"
Isabelle
said
sarcastically.
"Why,
why
are
you
doing
it?
You
don't
want
John
to
find
out?"
"John
knows
mother."
Isabelle's
voice
was
again
weary.
This
surprised
Victoria
who
paused
a
minute
before
asking,
"Then
why?"
"Because
I
love
him.
If
I
were
to
leave
he
would
find
me
again.
The
greatest
gift
I
can
give
him
is
to
die
mother."
Victoria
looked
away
from
Isabelle
as
her
eyes
filled
with
tears.
Isabelle
took
a
deep
breath
and
continued.
"I'm
tired
of
my
life
mother.
Tired
of
all
this
pain.
The
best
thing
that
I
can
do
for
the
only
person
who
has
ever
loved
me
is
to
die.
It's
the
only
way
he'll
be
free."
"John
doesn't
know
about
your
heart
does
he?"
Victoria
asked.
"No,"
Isabelle
answered
simply
before
standing
up.
"Go
mother,
you've
done
your
duty.
You've
made
your
yearly
visit,"
she
said
sadly.
"I'm
sorry
Isabelle."
Tears
welled
up
in
Victoria's
eyes.
"Tell
father
he'll
be
free
of
me
soon,"
Isabelle
threw
over
her
shoulder
as
she
walked
towards
the
door.
"Isabelle!"
Victoria
called
out
to
her
daughter.
"Go
home
mother.
The
visit
is
over."
Isabelle
walked
out.
~~~~~~~~~~
She
became
vaguely
familiar
that
there
was
someone
in
the
room
with
her.
She
felt
tired
and
her
eyes
felt
heavy.
She
saw
Whitney
and
then
all
she
saw
was
darkness.
When
her
eyes
opened
again
she
looked
around
and
saw
Whitney
sitting
on
a
chair
next
to
her
bed.
Whitney
leaned
over
as
soon
as
she
realized
Isabelle
was
awake.
"Isabelle,
are
you
all
right?
Can
I
get
you
anything?"
Her
voice
sounded
concerned.
"No,
I'm
all
right,"
Isabelle
said
softly.
"John
and
I
are
worried
about
you."
"I
know,"
she
answered
as
she
closed
her
eyes
once
more.
"Isabelle,
the
pain
may
get
better
for
the
telling,"
said
Whitney.
Isabelle
looked
at
her
and
smiled
sadly.
"Sometimes
the
pain
never
goes
away;
it
just
grows."
"John
loves
you
so
much.
Trust
his
judgment,
he
won't
let
you
down."
Whitney
said,
trying
to
reassure
her.
Isabelle
merely
smiled
and
went
back
to
sleep.
~~~~~~~~~~
He
was
making
arrangements
as
quickly
as
humanly
possible.
He
had
called
the
house
several
times
and
spoken
to
Whitney.
Isabelle
seemed
depressed
and
was
still
asleep.
He
was
finishing
up
some
paperwork
when
his
private
line
rang.
He
picked
up
the
receiver
quickly.
"Hello?"
He
spoke
into
the
receiver.
"John,
it's
Mother."
He
felt
relieved.
"Yes
mother,
what
is
it?"
He
asked
in
a
hurry.
"I
lost
sight
of
you
two
last
night."
"We
left
early.
Isabelle
wasn't
feeling
well."
"Could
she
be
pregnant?"
She
asked
hopefully.
John
was
caught
off
guard.
"No,
Mother
she
hasn't
been
sleeping
well
that's
all."
"Well
I
hope
she
feels
better,"
said
Vanessa.
"Thanks
Mother...Good-bye."
He
hung
up
the
phone.
She
had
thought
that
Isabelle
might
be
pregnant.
He
ran
his
fingers
through
his
hair.
Why
had
this
happened
to
them?
Why
had
life
done
this
to
them?
He
finally
admitted
to
himself
that
this
was
not
easy.
He
wanted
to
have
children
with
her
and
that
would
never
be.
He
would
have
wanted
to
show
off
to
the
world
the
woman
he
loved
and
not
be
afraid
of
the
outcome.
He
wanted
the
impossible.
Most
of
all
he
wanted
to
make
a
perfect
world
for
her
and
perhaps
in
time
and
far
away
from
here
he
could.
He
would
certainly
try
or
he
knew
he
would
lose
her.
Something
inside
him
told
him
that
it
was
only
a
matter
of
time.
He
would
lose
Isabelle;
sooner
or
later
he
would
loose
her.
He
was
brought
back
to
reality
when
the
intercom
on
his
desk
buzzed.
"Yes
Audrey?"
He
said
into
the
machine.
"Mr.
Stanton
you
said
you
didn't
want
to
be
disturbed
but
a
woman
here
insists
on
seeing
you.
She
says
she
is
Mrs.
Stanton's
mother."
He
became
very
alert.
"What's
her
name?"
"She
says
her
name
is
Victoria
Caldwell..."
he
did
not
wait
for
Audrey
to
continue.
"Let
her
in,"
he
said,
standing
to
meet
Isabelle's
mother.
Victoria
Caldwell
walked
in
slowly.
She
looked
at
John
and
walked
up
to
his
desk.
"Please
sit
down,"
he
said
to
her.
She
sat.
He
sat
back
behind
his
desk,
waiting
for
her
to
speak.
"John
I
must
speak
with
you."
She
spoke
in
a
very
soft
voice.
"I
know
everything
Victoria,
you
have
nothing
to
tell
me,"
he
said
in
exasperation.
"I'm
so
glad
that...that
she
has
found
someone
to
love
her,"
Victoria
said
looking
at
the
floor
not
at
John.
"Yes,
I
do
love
her."
"I
went
to
see
her
today
and
she
is
not
well,"
she
told
John.
"You
went
to
the
house?"
He
asked
incredulously.
"Yes,
I
was
worried
after
last
night."
"How
could
you
not
love
her
Victoria?
She's
so
easy
to
love."
Silence
was
the
only
reponse
that
John
recieved.
"Why
are
you
here?"
He
finally
asked.
"She
is
ill."
Finally
she
looked
up
at
John.
"Yes,
it's
a
miracle
she's
still
alive
after
everything
she's
been
through,"
he
said
sadly.
"No,
I
mean
she
has
a
heart
condition
and
has
not
been
taking
her
medication."
Her
news
landed
on
him
like
a
ton
of
bricks.
He
sat
very
still.
"What
are
you
saying?"
He
could
not
believe
what
he
had
heard.
"I
saw
her
last
night
and
how
she
got
so
pale.
I
noticed
she
didn't
take
the
medicine
as
she
was
suppose
to
right
away.
The
doctor
said
that
if
it
was
taken
as
soon
as
she
started
to
feel
badly
it
would
avoid
an
attack."
John
just
sat
staring
at
her.
He
had
become
a
statue,
lifeless.
"You
said
that
she
was
told
she
must
take
medication
immediately?"
His
question
was
barely
audible.
"Yes,
when
Isadore
was
a
child
we
found
out
he
had
a
heart
condition.
It
was
controlled
with
medication."
"Why?
Why
didn't
she
tell
me?"
Even
though
he'd
spoke
out
loud,
he
was
questioning
himself,
not
her.
"She
wants
to
die
John,"
stated
Victoria.
He
looked
at
her
in
shock.
"I
gave
in
to
Franklin
at
every
turn.
I'll
have
to
live
with
that
the
rest
of
my
life.
But
I
can't
let
this
happen."
John
just
stared
at
her.
"Franklin
was
married
once
before.
Isabelle
is
his
daughter,
not
mine.
I
raised
her
though.
And
you're
right
he...I'm
sorry
she
was
the
most
beautiful
and
loving
baby;
sensitive
and
happy.
I
held
her
as
a
child.
She'd
fall
asleep
in
my
arms,
looking
into
my
eyes
lovingly,
trusting
me
to
keep
her
safe.
I
let
Franklin..."
she
could
not
continue.
John
just
sat,
silently
listening
as
Victoria
continued
to
talk.
"Franklin
never
spoke
of
Margot.
That
was
Isabelle's
mother.
He
loved
her.
When
she
left
him,
he
took
the
child
away
from
her
and
never
let
her
see
it
again.
As
the
years
past
by
I
realized
that
he
had
never
stopped
loving
Margot
and
he
loved
her
still
through
Isadore.
That's
what
she
called
their
son.
Franklin
was
so
obsessed
his
son,
that
I
began
to
resent
Isadore
for
it.
And
I'm
ashamed
to
say
that
when
Isadore
began
to
fail
him
in
his
expectations,
I
was
glad."
John
got
up
and
stood
next
to
the
window
looking
out
into
the
street.
Victoria
continued.
"When
it
became
obvious
to
him
that
Isadore
was
a
disappointment,
he
sent
him
away.
That
child
cried
all
night
long,
begging
me
not
to
send
him
away.
I
didn't
even
try
to
convince
Franklin.
Every
year
on
Isadore's
birthday
Margot
would
call
and
beg
Franklin
to
see
her
son.
He
waited
by
the
phone
every
year
for
that
phone
call.
He
still
does.
The
night
he
shot
Isadore
she
called
and
he
told
her
that
their
son
had
died.
She
never
called
again.
He
still
waits
by
that
phone
on
Isadore's
birthday
every
year."
She
took
another
deep
breath
and
continued.
"That
night,
I
saw
the
horror
of
what
we
had
done.
I
had
allowed
Franklin
to
torture
that
poor
child.
I
was
suppose
to
be
his
mother,
and
I
allowed
Franklin
to
torture
that
innocent,
loving
child.
When
I
saw
him
covered
in
blood
I
realized
what
a
monster
I
had
allowed
myself
to
become."
Victoria
began
to
cry
as
she
finished
her
story.
John
looked
at
her
in
complete
disbelief
and
horror.
"My
God...what
have
you
people
done?"
He
was
unable
to
control
the
disgust
in
his
voice.
"She
wants
to
die,
John,"
she
said
to
him
again
He
ran
his
ringers
through
his
hair
in
an
obvious
defeated
gesture.
"She
wants
to
save
you.
She
doesn't
want
you
to
be
hurt
some
day
if
people
find
out.
She
wants
to
die
to
free
you."
"My
God...my
God!
She
wants
to
free
me?"
He
asked
as
tears
rolled
down
his
face.
He
felt
helpless
and
overwhelmed
with
such
emotion
that
he
could
not
control
it.
She
wanted
to
die
to
spare
him
the
pain
of
loving
her.
He
had
wanted
everything
and
because
of
that
he
had
been
selfish.
He
should
never
have
brought
her
back.
He
wanted
to
make
her
something
she
could
never
be.
He
had
brought
her
back
here,
where
all
she
had
known
was
pain
because
he
wanted
to
include
her
and
make
her
a
part
of
a
life
he
was
used
to.
He
should
have
seen
it.
She
had
come
to
please
him
knowing
that
it
would
hurt
her
and
all
this
time
she
had
stopped
taking
the
medicine.
She
loved
him
enough
to
desire
death
and
he
had
not
even
been
able
to
give
up
his
old
life
for
her.
All
that
kept
going
through
his
head
was
that
he
should
never
have
brought
her
back.
Victoria
got
up
and
John
looked
back
in
her
direction.
"Keep
Franklin
away
from
Isabelle
John.
He
is...he
has
gotten
worse
since
the
shooting.
When
Margot
called
that
night,
I
saw
him
and
I
realized
that
he
had
shot
Isadore
because
he
was
Margot's
son.
After
he
spoke
with
her
he
started
to
talk
and
talk.
He
shot
Isadore
because
he
thought
that
life
had
played
a
horrible
joke
on
him.
He
hadn't
seen
Isadore
for
almost
ten
years.
When
he
saw
Isabelle
that
night
he
saw
Margot's
face
looking
back
at
him.,
and
he
shot
her
for
having
taken
his
son.
But
he
had
shot
Isadore
of
course."
John
could
not
believe
all
that
he
was
hearing.
"I
found
out
a
few
years
ago
where
Margot
Strassburg
lives.
Here
is
her
address,"
she
said,
handing
John
a
piece
of
paper.
"I
don't
want
to
be
a
party
to
hurting
Isabelle
anymore.
Take
her
away
John.
Take
her
far
away
from
Franklin.
Someday
I
hope..."
she
was
unable
to
finish
the
sentence.
She
walked
over
to
the
door,
then
stopped
and
spoke
again.
"Love
her
John,
love
her.
She
was
easy
to
love
but
she
never
was."
Having
said
this
she
walked
out
of
his
office.
John
stood
looking
at
the
closed
door.
Suddenly
he
realized
he
had
to
act.
A
doctor,
he
needed
to
contact
a
heart
specialist
right
away.
With
his
money
and
connections
he
made
the
impossible
happen.
Within
the
hour
he
had
an
appointment
with
the
best
heart
specialist
in
the
country.
He
had
to
get
to
Isabelle.
He
would
help
her
to
understand
that
all
he
needed
in
life
was
her.
~~~~~~~~~~
He
had
his
car
wait
for
him
in
front
of
his
building
so
he
could
fly
home.
When
the
car
pulled
up
in
front
of
his
home
he
did
not
wait
for
the
chauffeur
to
open
his
car
door.
John
ran
up
the
steps
of
the
brownstone.
Philip
met
him
in
the
foyer.
"Phillip,
where
is
Mrs.
Stanton?"
"She
is
upstairs,
sir,"
answered
Phillip.
John
started
quickly
towards
the
staircase.
"Sir..."
Phillip
called
out.
John
turned
around
to
face
him.
"Yes?
Phillip
can
it
wait?"
He
asked
in
exasperation.
"No,
sir
it
can't,"
Phillip
stated
firmly,
surprising
John.
"Sir,
Mrs.
Stanton
is
not
well.
She
almost
collapsed
at
the
bottom
of
the
staircase
today.
She
asked
me
not
to
say
anything,
but
sir,
she
is
such
a
lovely
lady.
She
asked
me
not
to
say
anything
to
you,
sir,
so
as
not
to
worry
you.
But
sir,
I
would
feel
worse
if
something
were
to
happen
to
her
because
I
did
not
tell
you."
John
looked
at
Philip
and
gave
him
a
nod
of
appreciation
then
turned
around
and
ran
up
the
stairs.
He
went
into
their
bedroom
and
found
Isabelle
asleep.
Whitney
was
sitting
in
a
chair
by
the
corner.
She
walked
up
to
him
in
silence,
briefly
rubbed
his
shoulder,
and
walked
out
of
the
room,
closing
the
door
behind
her.
Slowly
he
walked
and
stood
next
to
the
bed.
He
stood
looking
at
her
for
a
long
time.
She
looked
so
peaceful
as
she
slept.
Probably
the
only
time
she
was
ever
at
peace
was
when
she
slept.
He
pulled
a
chair
over
next
to
the
bed
and
sat
to
watch
over
her.
He
wasn't
sure
how
long
he
had
been
watching
her
when
she
stirred.
Her
eyes
slowly
opened.
~~~~~~~~~~
The
room
was
dark.
But
the
darkness
to
her
was
cool
and
enveloping.
She
closed
her
eyes,
then
opened
them
again.
She
looked
around
her
dreamily
until
she
noticed
him
sitting
in
a
chair
close
to
her.
She
recognized
her
husband
immediately.
Even
in
the
darkness
she
could
see
his
eyes
looking
into
her
soul.
She
became
as
still
as
he.
He
got
up
and
slowly
moved
towards
her.
He
sat
next
to
her
on
the
bed
and
caressed
her
face
so
tenderly,
barely
touching
her
afraid
that
she
might
break.
"Feeling
better?"
He
asked
barely
audible.
"Yes."
She
wasn't
sure
how
long
she
had
been
resting.
"Have
you
been
here
long?"
She
ventured
to
ask.
"No,
not
long"
he
said.
He
looked
at
her
with
intensely,
examining
every
part
of
her
face.
She
looked
at
him
with
a
sense
of
curiosity.
He
got
up
and
stood
in
front
of
the
window.
She
could
see
the
outline
of
him
against
the
light
shinning
through
the
curtain.
He
stood
looking
out
only
for
a
little
while,
then
he
removed
his
coat
and
started
undressing.
She
followed
his
movements
in
the
dark.
He
got
in
bed
and
took
her
in
his
arms.
He
held
her
close
afraid
to
speak.
"You
feel
good,"
she
said
finally
as
she
burrowed
her
face
in
his
chest.
Breathing
in
his
scent
and
exhaling
with
satisfaction.
She
always
felt
safe
in
John's
embrace.
She
wanted
him
for
as
long
as
time
would
allow.
She
knew
enough
about
her
illness
to
realize
that
she
was
not
well.
Her
medication
had
assured
her
life
but
she
had
chosen
death.
And
she
knew
that
one
day
she
would
simply
not
wake
up.
"Don't
you
love
me
enough
to
live
for
me?"
She
heard
him
ask
and
she
instantly
tensed
in
his
arms.
"Live
for
me
Isabelle.
The
idea
of
lying
in
the
dark
alone
without
you
fills
me
with
terror.
I
don't
want
what
there
was
before
you.
Don't
sentence
me
to
a
life
of
loneliness.
Fight
for
me...please?"
She
stood
very
still
in
his
arms.
Tears
started
welling
up
and
spilling
over.
He
took
her
chin
and
raised
it
to
meet
his
eyes.
"You
are
my
future.
Love
me
enough
to
fight
for
me."
His
lips
kissed
her
tenderly.
She
was
about
to
say
something
when
he
put
his
finger
on
her
lips.
"Your
mother
came
to
see
me,"
he
said
to
her
and
she
instantly
understood.
She
sat
up
and
he
sat
next
to
her.
"We
are
going
to
see
a
specialist
tomorrow,
so
that
he
can
tell
me
how
my
heart
is
doing,
and
what
I
have
to
do
to
keep
it
working
for
at
least
another
forty
or
fifty
years.
Because,
Isabelle,
it's
not
your
heart
that
will
cease
to
beat
but
mine
if
anything
happens
to
you"
he
finished
saying
holding
his
breath
as
he
waited
for
her
answer.
"I
do
love
you
John.
You
have
to
believe
that."
She
was
facing
him
now.
"I
do."
Her
hand
caressed
his
face
tenderly.
"I'm
sorry
you
found
out,"
she
said
as
tears
rolled
down
her
cheek.
"How
can
you
say
that
Isabelle?"
He
pulled
her
into
his
arms
and
held
her
tightly.
"John,
all
I
can
bring
you
is
shame.
Don't
you
see
that?"
She
pulled
away
from
him
and
started
getting
out
of
bed.
He
grabbed
her
arm
and
pulled
her
back
on
the
bed.
He
was
over
her,
pinning
her
down,
not
allowing
her
to
move.
"You
idiot,
you
idiot.
How
can
you
say
that
to
me?
You
are
the
reason
I
feel
alive.
All
I
have
ever
felt
was
alone.
Always
needing
and
never
knowing
how
to
fill
the
void
inside
me.
You
have
made
me
whole,
and
if
you
think
I'm
going
to
let
you
go
you
must
be
crazy!"
His
anger
was
clear
in
his
voice.
"I
don't
want
to
be
the
one
to
hurt
you...and
one
day
you
know
I
will,"
she
said
to
him
in
tears.
"I'll
gladly
die
tomorrow
to
live
today,
because
that's
what
would
happen
if
I
were
to
lose
you
Isabelle.
I
would
die."
And
his
words
brought
her
closer
to
him
then
any
embrace
could
have.
Her
arms
went
around
him
and
she
cried
into
his
chest
as
he
held
on
tightly.
~~~~~~~~~~
They
were
taken
directly
into
Dr.
Matthew
Bernstein's
private
office.
John
had
used
all
his
influence
to
get
this
appointment.
People
usually
waited
close
to
six
months
for
an
appointment,
but
they
didn't
have
six
months.
The
doctor
asked
Isabelle
many
questions
and
discussed
the
tests
he
wanted
her
to
have.
He
made
it
quite
clear
that
she
had
been
very
irresponsible
with
her
medication
and
wanted
her
back
on
it
immediately.
He
picked
up
the
phone
and
one
of
his
assistants
took
them
to
another
room
as
he
set
up
all
the
necessary
tests
and
paperwork.
She
was
to
have
rest
and
it
was
made
clear
that
she
was
not
to
let
anything
upset
her.
The
next
few
days
were
hell.
Not
knowing
exactly
what
her
condition
was
the
worse
thing
of
all.
John
stayed
with
her
every
moment.
Screening
everything
and
everyone
that
came
in
contact
with
her.
He
could
hardly
believe
it
when
he
got
a
call
from
Dr.
Bernstein
that
all
the
tests
were
in
and
the
doctor
wanted
to
see
them
both
in
the
morning.
He
hung
up
the
phone
and
sat
down
on
the
chair
nearest
to
him.
He
was
tired
and
scared,
afraid
of
the
news
and
at
the
same
time
he
needed
to
know
desperately.
He
sat
in
the
chair
for
a
long
time
alone
in
the
foyer.
He
looked
around
him
and
felt
the
emptiness
in
the
house.
He
couldn't
lose
her.
Phillip
was
coming
in
when
he
saw
John
sitting
in
the
chair,
stopping
before
John
noticed
him.
John
couldn't
contain
the
fear
and
the
emotions
inside
him.
His
fingers
ran
through
his
hair
as
he
felt
the
weight
of
the
world
on
him.
She
could
die
were
the
words
that
went
through
his
mind
over
and
over;
he
held
the
sides
of
his
head
as
his
body
shook
with
sobs.
Phillip
lowered
his
head
in
sadness
and
quietly
walked
out
of
the
room.
His
question
could
keep.
If
the
young
Mrs.
Stanton
were
to
die,
he
could
see
that
her
husband
would
take
it
very
badly.
She
had
been
kind
to
him
and
he
had
to
admit
he
had
grown
to
be
fond
of
her
as
well.
He
had
worked
for
John
Stanton
for
over
five
years
now,
but
John
was
another
man
since
coming
back
with
his
beautiful
wife.
She
had
brightened
this
house
and
had
made
it
a
home.
The
whole
staff
was
fond
of
her.
And
when
they
all
realized
that
she
was
very
ill
they
genuinely
felt
sorry.
When
she
was
in
the
room
her
husband
was
cheerful
but
as
soon
as
she
left,
all
around
him
could
see
the
sadness
in
him.
He
had
to
admit,
it
had
moved
him
very
much
to
see
the
young
man
in
tears,
allowing
himself
his
grief
alone
and
away
from
her.
He
hoped
that
the
news
would
not
be
bad.
~~~~~~~~~~
"John,
is
she
going
to
be
alright?"
Vanessa
asked
visibly
concerned.
"I
don't
know
mother,"
he
said
in
a
tired
voice.
He
walked
over
to
the
bar
and
reached
for
one
of
the
decanters.
Karl
and
Vanessa
looked
at
each
other.
Karl
spoke
first.
"John
what
did
he
say?"
"We
have
to
see
dad,
she's
had
so
many
tests
already."
With
a
large
gulp,
he
emptied
his
glass.
"When
does
she
see
him
again?"
Vanessa
asked.
John
put
the
glass
down
and
closed
his
eyes
for
a
moment.
He
had
his
back
to
them,
his
shoulders
started
to
droop.
Vanessa
was
seated
on
the
couch
and
got
up
immediately
but
Karl
stopped
her
before
she
was
able
to
walk
over
to
John.
He
turned
to
face
them
visibly
in
more
control
of
his
emotions.
"I'm
sure
she's
going
to
be
fine."
Vanessa
said
reassuringly
with
a
smile
that
she
did
not
feel.
"Of
course,
she's
going
to
be
fine.
Do
you
remember
Freddie
Mason?
He
was
pretty
bad
for
awhile,
heart
trouble
too.
Now
you
wouldn't
know
that
he
had
been
sick
at
all."
Karl
tried
to
reassure
his
son.
Vanessa
sat
down
again.
All
three
tried
to
portray
a
confidence
they
didn't
feel.
John
gave
them
a
half
smile.
"Karl
why
don't
you
go
get
the
car,
dear.
It's
so
cold
and
you
know
how
I
am
about
the
cold."
Karl
took
the
hint
and
left
mother
and
son
alone
together.
Vanessa
got
up
and
walked
over
to
her
son
very
slowly.
It
had
been
so
simple
to
comfort
him
when
he
was
a
child.
All
she
had
to
do
was
hold
him
and
it
would
all
be
better.
This
was
something
Vanessa
was
not
prepared
for.
She
felt
helpless
to
aid
him.
She
quite
suddenly
realized
that
if
anything
were
to
happen
to
Isabelle
her
son
would
never
recover
from
it.
She
was
filled
with
an
overwhelming
need
to
protect
him.
As
she
got
right
in
front
of
him
she
did
the
only
thing
she
could
think
of.
She
pulled
him
into
her
embrace.
He
resisted
for
a
moment
then
quite
suddenly
he
clung
to
her
sobbing.
She
held
him
even
closer
to
her.
Words
were
not
necessary.
But
she
could
not
have
spoken
if
she
tried.
She
could
feel
the
tears
building
in
her
eyes
and
the
lump
growing
in
her
throat.
John
had
always
been
so
strong.
Even
as
a
boy
he
had
been
proud
to
stand-alone.
And
knowing
this
made
her
heart
ache
for
him
even
more.
After
awhile
he
became
still
and
pulled
away
from
her.
He
was
in
control
again.
He
walked
to
the
door
and
before
he
left
her
he
turned
to
her
"Thanks
Mom.
I'm
going
up
to
Isabelle."
"Yes,
go
on
John,"
she
said
with
a
smile.
When
the
door
closed
behind
him
she
just
stood
there
staring
at
it.
She
reached
for
the
back
of
a
chair
to
sustain
her.
It
had
broken
her
heart
to
see
the
pain
in
him.
But
her
pain
was
not
important.
She
had
to
be
strong
for
him.
They
had
been
so
close
when
he
was
a
child,
and,
somehow
along
the
years
that
closeness
had
been
strained.
But,
today
he
had
needed
her
and
had
clung
to
her
in
his
pain.
And,
all
she
could
do
was
hold
him
tightly
to
her
and
somehow
it
had
been
enough.
~~~~~~~~~~
They
both
received
the
doctor's
news
differently.
It
had
not
been
good
but
as
the
doctor
said
it
might
have
been
worse.
There
had
been
some
damage
to
her
heart.
She
needed
to
go
back
on
the
medication
and
follow
his
instructions
to
the
letter.
She
might
still
have
a
long
life
if
she
wanted
to,
but
she
had
to
want
to.
After
the
doctor's
visit,
the
strain
began
between
them.
Because
of
the
treatment,
it
was
decided
that
they
not
travel
for
a
while.
John
became
incredibly
over
protective
and
Isabelle
became
more
distant.
John
decided
that
he
should
try
to
find
Margot
Strassburg
and
see
if
this
could
be
something
that
might
bring
Isabelle
some
peace
and
happiness.
So
three
days
later
he
went
looking
for
her.
He
had
no
trouble
finding
the
address.
If
his
luck
held
out
she
might
still
be
living
there.
He
got
out
of
his
car
and
started
walking
a
few
yards
down
the
street.
He
looked
down
at
the
piece
of
paper
in
his
hand
and
back
up
at
the
house
in
front
of
him.
This
was
it
165
Meadows
Lane.
He
went
up
the
few
steps
and
knocked
on
the
front
door.
He
waited
a
few
seconds
and
proceeded
to
knock
again.
This
time
he
heard
a
female
voice
call
out.
"Coming."
He
waited
in
anticipation.
The
door
swung
open
and
a
woman
holding
onto
a
wet
squirming
puppy
met
him.
She
smiled
"May
I
help
you?"
She
said,
as
he
stood
speechless
for
a
brief
moment.
Before
him
was
an
older
version
of
his
Isabelle.
This
was
Margot
Strassburg.
"Yes,
Ms.
Strassburg.
My
name
is
John
Stanton.
I
wish
to
speak
to
you
about...your
son."
The
smile
on
the
woman's
face
disappeared.
"Who
are
you?"
She
asked
with
a
hint
of
anger
in
her
voice.
"I'm...may
I
come
in
to
speak
to
you?"
"No!"She
answered
in
an
agitated
state.
The
puppy
jumped
out
of
her
hands
and
ran
inside.
"Please
leave."
She
started
to
shut
the
door
in
his
face.
"Isadore
is
not
dead!"
John
blurted
out.
She
was
visibly
shaken
and
stood
staring
at
him
in
disbelief.
"Please,
if
Franklin
has
sent
you
to
torture
me,
please....Don't
do
this.
Don't
do
this.
My
son
died
many
years
ago."
Her
voice
shook
with
emotion.
"Isadore
is
alive,"
John
said
again.
For
a
moment
she
stood
unable
to
speak.
"Where
is
he?
Please
tell
me
where
he
is?"
She
pleaded
as
her
eyes
filled
with
unshed
tears.
"I
think
it's
time
you
know
each
other.
It's
time
to
make
things
right
for
both
of
you."
"Come
in...please...Come
in."
She
stepped
aside
and
John
walked
into
the
living
room
of
Isabelle's
mother's
house.
"Please,
won't
you
sit
down?"
She
pointed
to
the
sofa.
John
nodded
and
sat
facing
her
as
she
sat
opposite
of
him.
He
didn't
quite
know
where
to
begin
but
begin
he
must.
"I'm
sorry
Ms.
Strassburg,
I
don't
know
quite
how
to
start,"
he
said
to
her
gently.
"Is
he
all
right?"
She
asked
softly.
Her
eyes
asked
so
much
more.
"Yes."
he
said
simply.
"Where
is
he?
Please
tell
me
were
he
is."
"Here
in
New
York
City."
A
long
silence
followed.
"My
family
has
known
Frankilin
for
many
years.
I
never
would
have
believed
he
could
have
been
capable
of
such
a
monstrosity."
Her
eyes
shot
back
to
him.
"I
know
he
kept
your
son
from
you.
I
know
he
told
you
that
he
was
dead.
I
only
found
out
about
your
existence
a
few
days
ago."
She
listened
quietly
and
he
continued.
"The
best
way
to
tell
you
what
has
happened
all
these
years
is
the
way
it
was
told
to
me,
so
you
can
understand...so
you
can
help
your
son...so
you
can
understand
just
how
much
he
needs
you."
John
stopped.
She
looked
at
him
and
her
hand
covered
one
of
his
gently.
"You
love
my
son,"
she
said.
"Yes."
"Tell
me...I'll
listen,"
she
assured
him.
"I
was
having
lunch
with
a
friend
in
the
Hamptons
one
afternoon
and
quite
suddenly
I
saw
a
young
woman..."
~~~~~~~~~~
An
hour
later
he
had
finished
his
story.
He
had
been
looking
at
her
hand
over
his
throughout
the
entire
story.
He
had
not
looked
up,
not
even
once.
She
has
to
understand,
he
kept
repeating
to
himself.
She
just
had
to.
He
took
a
deep
breath,
exhaled
and
looked
up.
Her
eyes
were
veiled
to
him.
She
got
up
very
slowly
and
walked
towards
the
window.
She
stood
there
a
few
minutes
looking
out
into
the
street.
He
stood
up
too.
"You
must
understand,
Isabelle
needs
you.
She
needs
something
I
can't
give
her.
She
needs
to
know
that
someone
else
loved
her.
She
is
so
easy
to
love."
Tears
welled
up
in
his
eyes.
"I
need
your
help...help
me
to
save
her...please...I
beg
you!"
He
pleaded
with
her.
She
turned
to
face
him.
"No,
you
don't
understand.
I
just
can't
believe
that
my
son
is
alive.
The
last
time
I
saw
him
he
was
just
a
baby...so
beautiful.
I
slowly
came
to
know
the
real
Franklin.
I
knew
that
I
had
to
leave
him
and
I
filed
for
divorce
before
I
even
told
him.
I
thought
that
I
could
leave
him
and
start
a
knew
life
with
my
baby.
But,
Franklin
proved
to
be
more
of
a
monster
than
I
thought.
He
was
furious
when
he
found
out.
He
threw
me
out
of
the
house
and
vowed
never
to
let
me
have
my
baby.
At
first
I
still
had
hope
that
I
might
get
him
back.
Then
one
night
I
agreed
to
meet
him.
He
said
that
he
regretted
what
had
happened,
that
he
was
going
to
let
me
have
Isadore.
I
went
there
and
he
was
indeed
waiting
for
me.
It
was
a
house
in
the
country.
He
often
used
it
when
he
went
hunting.
He
kept
me
there
for
nine
days.
He...hurt
me...many
times
before
he
left..."
She
sobbed
as
she
continued.
"He
said
he
would
rather
see
my
baby
dead
than
for
me
to
have
him.
I
believed
him."
Looking
at
John
with
tear
filled
eyes
she
stopped
for
a
moment.
"Want
him?
You
can't
imagine
how
much
I
want
him.
I
have
wanted
him
every
second
of
his
life.
When
can
I
see
him?"
She
asked
anxiously.
"Isabelle
doesn't
know
about
you.
I
haven't
told
her,"
he
said.
Margot
looked
puzzled.
"I
couldn't
take
the
chance.
Not
until
I
spoke
with
you
first."
"Yes,
of
course,"
she
said
to
him
softly.
"Do
you
have
a
picture
of...her?"
Margot
asked
hesitantly.
John
nodded.
He
reached
into
his
pocket
and
took
out
his
wallet.
He
retrieved
a
photo
and
handed
it
to
her.
It
was
a
picture
they
had
taken
together
in
Malaga.
Isabelle
had
been
so
happy
then.
They
were
holding
each
other
smiling
into
the
camera.
Margot
looked
at
the
picture
as
if
to
study
every
inch
of
it.
Her
other
hand
touched
it
softly
and
tenderly
and
as
her
eyes
came
up
to
meet
his
a
smile
appeared
on
her
face.
"She
is
very
beautiful,"
she
said
simply.
"Yes,
she
is."
~~~~~~~~~~
Isabelle
was
resting
in
the
drawing
room
when
Phillip
came
in
to
let
her
know
she
had
a
visitor.
"Mrs.
Stanton,
there
is
a
gentlemen
to
see
you.
His
name
is
Frankilin
Benjamin
Caldwell."
As
soon
as
he
finished
saying
this
he
noticed
how
Isabelle
went
still.
"Madam,
do
you
wish
me
to
send
him
away?"
"No
Phillip,
bring
him
in
here
please,"
she
replied
softly.
Isabelle
braced
herself
for
what
was
to
come.
She
had
been
expecting
this
visit.
She
had
just
thought
it
might
have
taken
him
a
little
longer.
It
is
time
to
face
the
tiger,
she
thought
to
herself.
She
took
a
deep
breath
before
the
door
was
opened
and
in
walked
her
father.
He
seemed
as
he
had
always
seemed
to
her.
Somehow
she
realized
time
had
not
changed
him.
She
had
hoped
that
as
her
mother
had
come
to
her
he
might
too.
But
to
look
at
him
she
realized
that
this
meeting
would
be
a
painful
one.
"Come
in
Father,
please
sit
down."
She
pointed
to
the
chair
across
from
her
without
getting
up
from
her
seat.
He
sat
down
without
so
much
as
a
word.
He
kept
eye
contact
with
her
until
she
was
forced
to
look
away.
He
had
not
changed.
"Why
are
you
here?"
She
asked
softly
as
she
looked
up
again.
"You
must
know
why.
Did
you
think
that
I
would
let
you
destroy
John
Stanton!"
He
retorted
harshly.
"I
don't
want
to
hurt
him.
I
love
him.
He
is
my
husband."
"He
can't
be
your
husband.
I
am
here
to
make
sure
you
don't
ruin
this
family!"
He
yelled.
"I
want
to
see
you
leave
these
people
alone.
Isn't
it
enough
that
you
have
destroyed
all
that
you
have
ever
touched?"
"I
have
never
wanted
to
hurt
anyone.
I'm
sorry
that
you
could
not
see
that."
She
was
looking
at
him
now.
"You
have
been
a
curse
to
me.
But
I
will
not
allow
you
to
destroy
this
family!"
He
yelled
in
his
almighty
voice.
"I
don't
want
to
hurt
John.
I
love
him.
And
he
loves
me."
"He
doesn't
know
what
you
are.
He
thinks
he
does
but
he
doesn't,"
he
finished
in
disgust.
"Father,
don't
do
this
to
me."
She
spoke
as
the
tears
started
running
down
her
face.
"Father,
I
love
him.
He
is
the
only
thing
I
have
ever
wanted.
Don't
take
him
away
from
me
Father.
It
would
kill
me."
For
a
moment
it
seemed
that
Franklin
was
moved.
He
stared
at
Isabelle
as
if
she
were
someone
else.
Her
eyes
beseeched
him
and
for
a
second
she
honestly
thought
that
she
had
reached.
Until,
his
eyes
became
even
colder
than
before.
"You
are
like
your
mother.
She
thought
she
could
have
her
way.
I
had
to
teach
her
otherwise."
He
said
malevolently.
"Leave
him,
or
I
will
leak
this
to
the
press."
Isabelle
could
not
believe
what
he
had
said.
She
stared
at
him
in
pain
and
confusion.
"Father..."
"Do
it
soon,
or
I
will
do
as
I
say,"
he
growled.
Her
head
bowed
in
defeat.
"I
will
need
time.
He
has
to
think
I
don't
care
for
him.
If
he
suspects
anything
else
he
will
follow
me
and
he
would
never
be
free."
"I
give
you
a
month.
Do
it.
And
I
want
to
hear
you
tell
him,"
he
said
with
satisfaction.
She
looked
up
and
could
not
believe
the
hatred
in
his
eyes.
"Why?"
she
asked
incredulous.
"I
want
to
make
sure
that
it
is
done."
Isabelle
nodded.
Franklin
stood
up
and
walked
out
of
the
room.
She
sat
unable
to
believe
what
had
just
happened.
Why
did
he
hate
her
so
much?
How
could
she
have
hoped
that
he
might
have
come
to
see
her
out
of
concern?
He
had
always
hated
her.
No,
not
always.
She
remembered
when
she
was
little.
She
remembered
him
putting
her
to
bed,
telling
her
stories
of
heroes
long
gone
by;
she
remembered
kindness
from
him.
And
that
is
what
she
had
always
wanted
to
find
in
him
again.
It
surprised
her
that
she
still
harbored
that
hope
until
today.
With
pain,
she
finally
accepted
the
fact
that
her
father
would
never
love
her.
And
it
hurt
to
think
that.
Even
after
all
the
years
it
still
hurt
her.
And
now,
he
was
taking
the
only
thing
she
had
ever
had.
He
had
set
a
price
for
his
silence
and
she
would
gladly
pay
it.
~~~~~~~~~~
John
turns
toward
Isabelle,
trying
to
control
his
anger.
"Why
are
we
fighting
over
something
like
this?"
She
opened
her
mouth
as
if
to
say
something
but
changed
her
mind.
He
didn't
look
angry
anymore.
They
stood
only
a
few
feet
apart
and
yet
it
seemed
a
great
distance.
"What's
wrong
Isabelle?"
He
asked
softly.
She
just
stared
back
at
him
with
the
same
sadness
in
her
eyes
as
in
his.
"What's
happening
to
us?
I
always
thought
we
were
like
one.
I
knew
what
you
felt
by
just
looking
into
your
eyes.
I
can't
tell
anymore.
You're
shutting
me
out."
They
both
stood
miles
away
"I
had
Phillip
move
my
things
to
the
guest
room,"
she
told
him
then
she
turned
and
walked
away.
And,
as
she
walked
away
from
him
he
ran
his
fingers
through
his
hair
in
frustration.
She
was
shutting
him
out
slowly
but
surely.
Every
time
he
came
close
to
her,
she
would
find
some
excuse
to
push
him
away.
At
first,
it
had
been
understandable,
after
all,
she
had
been
sick.
He
had
understood.
But,
as
the
weeks
went
by
he
began
to
feel
the
distance
between
them.
It
had
been
the
little
things
in
the
beginning.
Like
telling
him
not
to
hold
her
too
tight
because
she
was
afraid
of
not
being
able
to
breathe.
Then
it
was
not
having
meals
together
because
of
her
special
diet
it
was
better
for
her
to
dine
earlier.
It
wasn't
so
much
what
she
would
say
but
what
she
didn't
say.
Communication
was
non
existent
lately.
And,
when
he
would
try
to
please
her
she
would
find
some
excuse
to
get
angry
with
him.
He
walked
into
the
library
and
leaned
his
back
against
the
door
as
he
closed
it.
Something
along
the
way
had
gone
wrong
and
he
couldn't
figure
out
what.
He
walked
slowly
towards
the
bar,
poured
himself
a
scotch,
and
drank
it
quickly.
He
did
this
many
times
over.
~~~~~~~~~~
She
felt
cold.
She
always
felt
cold
lately.
She
wrapped
her
arms
around
herself
protectively
in
a
gesture
of
comfort
as
she
stared
out
the
window.
It
had
started
to
snow
about
an
hour
before.
And,
everything
had
a
cover
of
white.
It
all
seemed
so
beautiful
and
clean.
This
was
something
she
could
have
shared
with
John.
But,
they
shared
nothing
now.
She
had
seen
to
that.
He
had
taken
more
maltreatment
from
her
than
she
would
have
ever
imagined.
At
first
she
knew
it
might
be
because
he
was
afraid
to
upset
her,
after
all
she
had
a
heart
condition.
But,
slowly
he
began
to
notice
the
distance
growing
between
them
and
she
began
to
see
doubt
in
his
eyes.
He
began
to
be
afraid
that
he
would
lose
her.
He
knew
that
things
were
going
from
bad
to
worse
between
them
and
so
he
opted
to
saying
nothing
rather
than
to
upset
her
further.
He
would
go
into
his
library
and
stay
there
most
of
the
night.
As
the
arguments
became
more
frequent
she
began
to
notice
the
physical
change
in
him.
He
started
to
lose
weight
and
he
started
to
look
tired
all
the
time.
She
had
also
noticed
soon
after
the
Scotch
bottle
in
his
library
was
being
filled
often
by
Phillip.
Once
she
walked
in
as
Phillip
was
filling
the
decanter
and
as
he
finished
pouring,
he
looked
away
in
embarrassment.
She
had
promised
to
love
him
and
she
was
hurting
him
more
than
anyone
ever
had.
She
had
to
put
an
end
to
this
and
she
would.
She
just
didn't
know
how
to
say
the
words.
How
could
she
tell
him
she
didn't
love
him
when
all
she
did
was
long
for
him?
Her
father
wanted
to
witness
her
goodbye.
In
two
days
they
were
to
attend
the
fundraiser
for
an
exhibition
at
the
Whitney
Museum.
She
would
do
it
then.
The
sooner
the
better.
She
would
finally
set
him
free
from
the
exposure
her
father
had
threatened
her
with.
Isabelle
had
stood
in
front
of
the
window
for
a
long
time
in
silence
looking
at
the
snow
as
it
fell
slowly
before
hitting
the
ground.
She
turned
in
shock
as
her
bedroom
door
burst
open
with
a
loud
crash.
"You're
my
wife.
You
belong
in
my
bed
not
here!"
Se
spat
at
her.
He
stumbled
inside
the
room.
She
stared
at
him
in
disbelief.
He
was
drunk,
she
could
smell
the
scotch.
"I
have
waited
and
waited
for
you!
Do
you
know
how
it
hurts
to
want
you?"
He
was
yelling
at
her.
"John
please...."
Was
all
she
could
say
in
a
quiet
voice.
"Please?"
He
yelled
back
in
disbelief
at
her.
He
was
upon
her
instantly.
Holding
her
tightly
to
him
looking
into
her
eyes
in
disbelief
and
anguish.
He
was
pulling
her
closer
to
him
and
his
mouth
was
on
her
mouth
demanding
a
response.
He
had
wanted
her
for
so
long
that
all
he
could
see
at
this
moment
was
his
need
for
her.
The
more
she
tried
pushing
him
away
the
more
he
wanted
her.
His
hands
moved
aggressively
over
her
body.
She
began
to
whimper
out
of
frustration.
He
was
allowing
only
his
passion
for
her
to
guide
him.
He
scooped
her
up
and
within
the
batting
of
an
eyelash
she
felt
the
bed
under
her
and
Johns
body
on
her.
"No!"
she
kept
saying
as
she
was
fighting
him.
He
got
angry
and
grabbed
the
front
of
her
dress
and
tore
it
exposing
her
breasts.
His
mouth
descended
on
one
of
her
nipples
and
she
gasped
from
the
pain.
This
was
not
the
man
she
loved
but
the
man
she
had
created
and
she
began
to
sob.
Her
crying
reached
him
as
her
words
had
not
and
he
got
off
her.
John
sat
on
the
bed
next
to
her
not
believing
what
he
had
done
or
what
he
wanted
to
do.
All
he
could
hear
was
her
crying.
He
closed
his
eyes.
"I'm
sorry...I'm
sorry...This
will
never
happen
again."
Was
all
he
said
before
he
got
up
and
walked
out
closing
what
remained
of
the
door
behind
him.
He
walked
out
never
looking
at
her
once.
Isabelle
cried
herself
to
sleep.
It
was
all
coming
to
an
end.
She
cried
herself
to
sleep
dreaming
of
what
might
have
been.
~~~~~~~~~~
He
was
filled
with
a
feeling
of
such
joy.
It
had
been
so
long
since
she
had
touched
him.
She
was
touching
him!
His
eyes
closed
in
disbelief
and
inhaled
slowly
with
such
desire
that
it
made
his
body
shake.
He
pulled
her
to
him
suddenly.
They
were
both
surrounded
in
a
veil
of
desire.
"No...shhhhh..."
she
whispered
with
her
finger
on
his
lips.
Isabelle
took
him
by
the
hand
and
walked
him
slowly
to
the
bed.
Her
hands
began
to
unbutton
his
shirt.
His
hands
tried
to
do
the
same
to
her
but
she
stopped
him
and
shook
her
head.
He
let
her
have
her
way.
This
was
a
part
of
Isabelle
he
had
never
seen
before
and
he
was
both
intrigued
and
excited.
She
undressed
him
slowly
then
asked
him
to
lie
down.
All
he
could
do
was
stare
in
raw
excitement.
Isabelle
then
stood
before
him
and
started
to
undress
slowly.
John
could
hardly
control
his
desire
for
her.
"Come
my
Isabelle
before
I
go
insane."
He
said
ardently
extending
his
hand
to
her.
She
shook
her
head.
And
quite
suddenly
surprised
him
by
quickly
mounting
him.
His
hands
automatically
went
to
cup
her
breasts.
She
grabbed
them
and
pinned
them
over
his
head.
She
reached
for
something
under
the
pillow.
She
tied
his
left
hand
to
the
post
of
the
bed
and
proceeded
to
tie
the
other.
This
was
not
the
woman
he
had
expected
and
the
idea
of
knowing
her
all
over
again
filled
him
with
even
more
desire
for
her.
This
was
not
his
wife,
not
the
woman
he
knew
at
all.
And
yet
this
was
Isabelle.
She
was
trying
to
seduce
him
and
although
he
felt
a
bit
uncomfortable
with
this
game
he
would
have
done
anything
to
have
her
in
his
bed
again.
Her
lips
teased
his
and
her
tongue
traced
his
lips.
Her
breasts
were
rubbing
against
his
chest
and
a
grunt
escaped
his
throat.
Quite
suddenly
she
sat
up
and
slapped
him
across
the
face.
He
stared
at
her
in
disbelief
and
she
slapped
him
again
even
harder.
"Don't
do
that!"
He
yelled.
"Why?
Don't
you
like
it?
It's
part
of
love,"
she
was
saying
in
a
seductive
voice.
Her
mouth
came
to
his
again.
And
this
time
as
she
kissed
him
he
could
feel
her
body
rubbing
up
and
down
on
his.
He
wanted
her
so
much
he
felt
he
would
explode
if
he
didn't
posses
her.
Again
she
lifted
herself
away
from
him
and
slapped
his
face
hard
"What
the
hell
are
you
doing?"
He
yelled.
"Untie
me
right
now!"
He
demanded
and
she
smiled.
"Don't
you
want
me?"
she
asked
in
a
husky
voice.
"You
know
I
do."
Her
hands
caressed
his
face
and
they
traveled
down
his
neck.
She
started
pinching
his
nipples
and
his
body
moved
in
excitement
once
more.
Her
mouth
went
down
to
his
chest
and
her
tongue
traveled
slowly
and
as
her
lips
found
one
nipple
her
fingers
squeezed
the
other.
"Oh
God!
Untie
me
now!
We
don't
have
to
do
this.
Untie
me
darling.
Let
me
make
love
to
you."
She
sat
up
and
smiled.
"You
want
me?"
"Yes!"
Her
hands
went
again
to
his
chest
and
up
to
his
shoulders
suggesting
that
they
would
travel
up
his
arms
to
untie
him.
But
quite
suddenly
they
clenched
up
and
as
they
traveled
downward
he
could
feel
her
nails
cutting
into
his
flesh.
"Enough!"
He
yelled.
She
reached
over
to
the
nightstand
for
the
champagne
glass
that
was
there
and
her
breast
rubbed
his
lips.
And
just
as
quickly
his
anger
turned
to
desire
again.
She
drank
and
poured
champagne
on
his
scratches.
"AH!"
He
winced
in
pain.
Her
mouth
met
his
and
from
her
lips
the
golden
liquid
rolled
into
his
mouth.
She
had
been
in
control
long
enough.
No
more
games.
He
pulled
hard
with
both
arms
and
the
straps
holding
his
hands
snapped.
He
reached
for
her
and
threw
her
to
the
side
and
just
as
quickly
mounted
her.
She
fought
him
for
a
moment
before
he
entered
her
and
his
mouth
silenced
her
cries
of
objection.
The
thrusting
motions
of
his
body
both
gave
her
pain
and
incredible
pleasure.
She
had
intended
to
push
him
further
away
from
her
but
her
body
betrayed
her
as
it
began
to
match
the
movements
of
his
own.
And
they
both
took
pleasure
from
the
moment
when
they
came
together
in
a
rush
of
orgasm
after
orgasm.
John
sat
up
in
bed
covered
in
perspiration.
He
was
alone.
It
had
been
a
dream.
Dreaming
of
her
had
become
a
nightmare.
The
estrangement
between
them
was
slipping
into
his
dreams.
Was
he
so
desperate
for
her
that
he
would
do
anything?
His
fingers
went
through
his
hair
in
frustration.
No!
He
could
not
let
this
continue.
He
no
longer
knew
himself.
Would
he
truly
do
anything
to
keep
her?
In
some
ways
he
thought
his
dream
had
been
symbolic
of
his
life.
His
body
wanted
her.
And
somehow
she
had
stopped
needing
him.
How
could
it
all
have
changed
so
quickly.
She
was
torturing
him
in
his
dreams.
John
wiped
his
eyes
and
never
went
back
to
sleep
that
night.
It
had
to
stop;
because
if
it
continued
they
would
both
have
nothing.
~~~~~~~~~~
John
stood
with
a
glass
filled
with
a
liquid
the
color
of
Amber
in
his
hands.
They
were
going
out
tonight.
He
felt
the
sadness
fill
him
like
never
before.
He
looked
down
at
the
glass
in
his
hand
and
stared
at
it
as
if
it
might
give
him
the
answer
he
so
desperately
seemed
to
be
searching
for.
It
would
be
so
easy
to
let
her
go
he
would
think
trying
to
fool
himself.
But
it
always
came
back
to
the
same
thing.
He
needed
her.
He
loved
her
with
all
that
he
was.
How
could
he
leave
her?
It
would
be
easier
to
stop
breathing.
He
stood
in
his
library
thinking
yet
again
of
how
to
reach
his
Isabelle.
Perhaps
tonight
would
change
things.
He
had
tried
all
else.
In
any
case
he
would
do
this
for
her.
And
if
she
wanted
nothing
else
from
him
then
he
would
let
her
have
her
peace.
Since
she
always
seemed
unhappy
with
him
now.
He
closed
his
eyes
and
he
remembered.
He
remembered
what
it
was
like
to
feel
alive
and
full
of
desire
to
see
and
live
another
day
with
her.
She
had
become
so
much
a
part
of
him
that
he
did
not
know
how
he
would
live
without
her
if
after
tonight
she
no
longer
wanted
him
he
would
accept
it
and
just
walk
away.
Suddenly
a
voice
from
the
past
filled
his
thoughts
and
he
had
to
blink
many
times
to
come
back.
"I'm
ready
if
you
are
John,"
Isabelle
said
from
the
doorway.
He
turned
around
and
all
his
love
shown
in
his
eyes
as
he
beheld
her.
She
wore
a
dress
the
color
of
rich
dark
Prussian
blue.
Her
shoulders
were
bare
as
the
first
night
he
first
kissed
her.
And
her
hair
was
up
again
in
a
soft
pile.
All
his
senses
came
alive.
She
turned
her
face
away
from
him.
He
understood
the
rejection.
"Good,
let's
get
going,"
he
answered
as
if
he
had
not
felt
the
sting
of
her
rejection
or
the
coldness
that
seemed
to
grow
every
second
between
them.
~~~~~~~~~~
They
arrived
at
the
gallery,
as
all
others
seemed
to.
As
soon
as
they
walked
into
the
foyer
Whitney
met
them.
"Hi
John-John.
You
look
like
hell,"
she
said
bluntly.
"Too
much
time
in
the
office
lately,"
he
answered
matter
a
factly
as
he
took
his
wife's
coat
and
handed
over
to
the
cloak
attendant.
"Isabelle,
you
should
put
your
foot
down
and
keep
him
home,"
Whitney
said
jokingly.
"John
has
his
own
priorities
these
days,"
she
said
coldly
and
walked
inside
leaving
them
both
standing
in
surprise.
"Everything
okay?"
The
concern
showed
in
Whitney's
question.
"Nothing
is
okay,"
he
answered
and
went
after
his
wife.
Whitney
stood
looking
at
both
of
them
walk
to
opposite
sides
of
the
room.
What
happened?
She
thought
to
herself.
They
were
the
most
in
love
couple
she
had
ever
seen.
They
lost
themselves
in
the
crowd
already
gathered.
Isabelle
looked
around
and
spotted
John
speaking
to
a
few
people
then
she
walked
out
into
the
balcony.
Almost
as
if
by
conjuring
her
father
appeared.
"Tonight,"
was
all
he
said.
"Yes,
tonight.
And
then
it
will
all
be
over,"
Isabelle
said
to
him.
"I
will
never
say
a
word,"
Franklin
hissed.
"Then
after
this
it
will
be
over
between
us."
"What
does
that
mean?
Are
you
threatening
me?"
Franklin
spat
at
her.
"No
father,
I
am
finally
saying
good
bye.
I
will
finally
let
you
go,"
she
said
sadly.
Franklin
was
taken
aback.
"I
never
stopped
hoping
that
you
would
love
me.
I
somehow
always
hoped
that
you
would,"
she
said
as
tears
rolled
down
her
face.
"I
used
to
dream
that
you
would
love
me.
Would
it
have
been
so
awful
just
to
love
me?"
Franklin
stared
in
confusion.
For
a
moment
he
remembered
the
same
words
spoken
from
the
same
face.
He
shook
his
head
and
walked
away;
putting
some
distance
between
them.
"You
loved
me
once,"
Isabelle
said
softly
"You
took
my
son
away
from
me,"
he
finally
said
with
his
back
to
her.
"Father..."
"Just
do
what
I
asked
for
and
I
will
keep
my
word,"
he
insisted.
After
a
few
minutes
Franklin
turned
around
only
to
find
himself
alone
in
the
balcony.
~~~~~~~~~~
"Ms
Strassbourg,"
John
said
with
a
smile.
"Margot,
please,"
she
smiled
nervously.
"I
see
Isabelle,
will
you
wait
here
for
a
moment?"
"John
I
have
waited
a
lifetime.
I
can
wait
a
few
more
minutes..but
only
a
few."
Her
smile
wavered.
"Only
a
few.
I
promise."
He
squeezed
her
hand
and
walked
over
to
Isabelle.
Margot
followed
him
with
her
eyes.
Her
eyes
were
suddenly
filled
with
what
they
sought.
Her
eyes
welled
up
with
tears.
~~~~~~~~~~
"John,"
Isabelle
said
sadly.
"Can
you
give
me
a
moment?"
"Yes,
of
course."
"On
the
balcony?"
"All
right,"
he
said,following
her
out.
"Aren't
you
cold
out
here?"
He
said
as
he
came
out
behind
her.
She
pushed
him
away
and
took
a
few
steps
towards
the
rail.
"John,
I'm
going
back
to
Spain,"
she
said
simply
without
looking
at
him.
He
had
expected
something
of
the
kind
but
was
somehow
not
prepared
for
the
impact
of
the
words.
She
turned
towards
him.
"I
think
that
this
is
not
working.
What
we
had
was
good
for
awhile.
But
now..."
she
trailed
off.
"I
can
go
with
you..."
he
suggested
knowing
that
she
would
turn
him
down.
She
said
nothing
and
he
turned
away
from
her.
"When
did
it
happen?"
He
said
softly
"What?"
She
asked
suspiciously.
"When
did
you
stop
loving
me?"
Still
he
did
not
look
at
her.
"I...John,
I'm
sorry,"
was
all
that
she
allowed
herself
to
say.
"One
day,
I
hope
you
forgive
me."
"Isabelle,
When?"
He
faced
her
now.
He
wasn't
going
to
let
her
go
without
a
fight.
"John
please...don't."
She
turned
away
from
him.
"I
know
I
made
mistakes.
You're
breaking
my
heart,"
he
finally
said.
"How
could
you
just
stop
loving?
You
said
forever
Isabelle!
I
believed
you!
You
said
forever!"
He
was
angry
now.
She
faced
him
with
all
the
strength
she
had
left
over.
"I
don't
love
you
anymore.
I'm
sorry!"
She
spat
out.
The
silence
stood
between
them
like
a
wall
of
ice.
"Thank
you?
For
ripping
away
all
that
I
loved?
You
took
my
son
away
from
me
Franklin.
I
loved
you!
And
you
became
my
worst
nightmare,"
she
said
as
tears
of
anger
rolled
down
her
face.
Isabelle
listened
and
stared
in
confusion.
"He
is
an
abomination.
Something
not
normal!"
Franklin
persisted.
"He
is
my
child
Franklin.
My
child.
The
one
that
I
created
in
love
and
wanted;
the
one
that
you
stole
from
me.
How
could
you
have
been
such
a
monster
and
I
not
seen
it?"
She
asked
and
he
simply
stared
in
silence.
Margot
turned
towards
Isabelle
again.
"I
wanted
you.
I
thought
that
you
had
died
so
many
years
ago.
If
I
had
thought
for
one
moment
that
you
were
alive
I
would
never
have
stopped
trying
to
reach
you.
You
must
believe
that.
I
love
you.
I
have
loved
you
and
wanted
to
hold
you
since
you
were
first
put
in
my
arms,"
Margot
said
as
tears
rolled
down
her
face.
Isabelle
looked
towards
John
who
smiled
and
nodded.
And
at
that
moment
she
knew
that
this
was
his
doing.
"John
found
me
and
told
me.
Please....
please
let
me
be
a
part
of
your
life
Isabelle.
I
won't
ask
for
too
much.
I
just
want
to
love
you.
Please
let
me
love
you,
my
sweet
sweet
child."
Margot
cried
openly
as
she
poured
her
heart
to
her
daughter.
"No!"
Franklin
jumped
in.
He
went
to
grab
Isabelle
and
found
Margot
in
his
way.
"If
you
come
near
her
again
I
will
kill
you.
Nothing
in
this
world
will
stop
me
from
ending
your
miserable
life,"
Margot
said
to
him
coldly.
Franklin
took
a
step
back.
"I
loved
you
Margot.
You
had
no
right
to
humiliate
me.
Did
you
think
I
would
let
you
just
go?"
"Franklin,
you
took
my
son!"
"He
was
all
I
had
of
you!"
Franklin
yelled.
Silence
filled
the
emptiness.
"You
never
knew
what
love
was
and
I
was
a
fool
to
think
I
could
show
you,"
Margot
said
sadly.
"You
won.
The
joke
was
on
me.
Looking
at
him
become
more
like
you
each
and
every
day."
Franklin
looked
at
Isabelle
now.
"The
joke
was
on
me."