Danielle Steel - Lone eagle

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was a fool. I acted like a kid. I was scared, Kate.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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