Danielle Steel - Lone eagle

“About what?” He looked at her awkwardly. He felt cornered by the questions she had asked.

“About marriage. Have you ruled that out too?” She was upset that he hadn't told her he'd decided he didn't want children. It seemed unfair not to have at least said so, but admittedly, he was busy and had other things on his mind. He thought of his growing empire all the time, and nothing else these days.

“I don't know,” he said vaguely. “Do we need to? If we're not going to have kids, why get married?” His walls had gone up and there was a look of panic in her eyes.

“Are you serious?” She was staring at him as though he were a stranger, and she was beginning to think he had become one. She wasn't quite sure when. But everything had changed again. She couldn't help wondering if his decision not to tell anyone the year before that they had decided to get married was so that he would have the freedom to change his mind. And apparently, he had.

“Do we have to talk about this now? I have an early meeting tomorrow.” He looked annoyed, and wanted the conversation to end. Just talking about it made him feel trapped, and worse yet, guilty for not wanting to marry her. And guilt was the one thing Joe couldn't stand. It struck terror in his heart, and it was a pain more acute than any he had ever known. It brought back each and every nightmare from his past, especially the echoed voices of the cousins who had relentlessly told him how “bad” he was as a child.

“This is our life we're talking about, our future,” Kate insisted, “I think that may just be important.” There was an edge to her voice that was like fingernails on a blackboard to him. Her tone reminded him of her mother instantly.

“Do we have to settle it tonight?” He was irritated, but she was more so. She could feel him withdrawing, which made her want to clutch at him, and only drove him away more. They were trapped in a deathly dance. She was feeling abandoned by him, and sensing that in her, and the panic it caused, made him want to run.

Joe wanted to escape, and hide somewhere to lick his wounds, but Kate wasn't wise enough to leave him alone. Panic was a powerful force she could not control.

“Maybe we don't have to settle it at all,” she said unhappily, and hearing her tone made him feel guiltier and even more desperate to flee. Joe felt guilt like a physical blow she was dealing him. “Maybe you just did settle it,” she said. “You're telling me you don't want kids, and you don't see any reason to get married. That's kind of a big switch in decisions, isn't it?” His decisions affected her entire future, and she suddenly felt even more panicky. She had been patiently waiting for the right time for him, for two years. And she had suddenly come to understand that there was no right time, as far as he was concerned, and never would be. Marriage was no longer an option for him. Or for her, as a result.

“I have a business to run, Kate. I don't know how much energy I'd have left for a wife and kids. Probably none.” He was frantically seeking refuge from her, and in his own way, his panic was as great as hers, but for Joe, it translated to something very distant and cool, which frightened her as much as her advances did him.

“What are you saying to me?” she said, as her eyes filled with tears. He was destroying everything she'd hoped for, and all her dreams with him. She had only come to New Jersey to work for him to facilitate their life together, and speed things up so they could settle down. But it was the business he was in love with now. And the airplanes. Always the planes. There were no other women in his life. His planes were his mistresses, his children, and his wives.

“I guess I'm saying that this is it,” he answered her finally, since she was pressing him. “This is as good as it gets, for me at least. I don't need the rest. I don't need marriage, Kate. I can't do it. I don't want it. I need to be free. We have each other. What difference does it make if we have a piece of paper? What does that mean?” It meant nothing to him, but it meant a lot to her.

“It means you love me and trust me, and care about me, and want to stay with me forever, Joe,” that was the key issue for her. And forever was a word that frightened him. “It means you stand up and say you believe in me, and I believe in you. It means we're proud of each other. Somehow I think we owe each other that by now.” He hated hearing that. It sounded painful to him. He felt like she was trying to nail him to the floor. Or the cross. He felt engulfed suddenly and overwhelmed by what she needed from him, and he was determined to protect himself at all costs. Even if it meant losing her.

“We don't owe each other anything, except to be here if we want to be, on a day-by-day basis. And if we don't want to anymore, we do something else. There are no guarantees.” Joe was shouting at her by then, which offended and frightened her. It was his way of trying to keep her at a safe distance. He was running away. What Kate saw, and felt, was that Joe was abandoning her, just as her father had, which only made her pursue him more.

“When did this happen?” she asked, her voice rising beyond what she intended, but he had pushed her too far. She felt as though she was spiraling down into an abyss. She felt desperate, frightened, and out of control. “When did you decide not to get married?” she asked plaintively. “When did everything change? And why didn't I understand that this was what you were thinking? Why didn't you tell me, Joe?” She was beginning to sob, and it was hard to breathe. “Why are you doing this to me?” He cringed, listening to her, and felt her words pierce him like knives.

“Why can't you just let it be?” he begged.

“Because I love you,” she said miserably. But he was no longer sure he loved her. Or if he ever could, enough to make up for her father killing himself when she was a child. By then, Joe felt as desperate as she. As desperate as she was to avoid his abandoning her. It was Kate who was actually causing him to flee.

“Can we go to bed now, Kate? I'm tired.” He looked like he was drowning. They both were. They were like two terrified children clawing at each other, and neither of them was able to be adult enough to stop. They were both too scared, she of abandonment, and he of being devoured.

“I'm tired too,” she said in a tone of despair. She felt lonelier than she ever had in her life. She went to take a shower, and she stayed in it for a long time. She felt shell-shocked and unloved as she stood there and cried. When she got into bed, he was already asleep. She got into bed next to him and looked at him for a long time, wondering who he was. She stroked his hair cautiously, as though he might attack her again, and he murmured in his sleep, and turned away. She knew that in spite of what he said, he loved her, and she loved him, maybe even enough to give up all her dreams. But she couldn't see how anymore. He was afraid of loving her. He felt safer running away. And all she wanted was to be close to him.

She had made a decision in the shower that night. She knew she had to leave before they destroyed each other. He was never going to marry her. It was time to go. Her mother had been right about him all along.

She told Joe the next morning, over breakfast. She said it quietly and reasonably, and succinctly. “I'm leaving, Joe.” Their eyes met across the table and he looked confused. He was still reverberating from the pain they had caused each other the night before.

“Why, Kate?” He looked shocked, but he didn't tell her not to go.

“After what you said last night, I can't stay here anymore. I love you. With all my heart. With all my life. I waited two years for you, unable to believe you were dead. I didn't think I could love anybody else after you, and I still don't. Not the way I love you. I never will. But I want a husband and children and a real life. You don't want the same things I do.” There were tears in her eyes as she spoke, but she was trying to stay calm, despite the sinking feeling of panic in her stomach, or the knife in her heart. She wanted him to take back everything he'd said the night before, but he didn't say a word.