Danielle Steel - Impossible

They had dinner at Mark's Club, and afterward he took her to Annabel's. She was home in good order, shortly after midnight. He said he was going to Holland the next day to see about a sailboat he had ordered, and he would call her as soon as he got back to Paris. It was a delight to be with someone so intelligent and pleasant. There was none of the excitement or torture she had been through with Liam.

She slept peacefully that night, saw an artist the next day, visited two galleries, and went shopping. She got back to the hotel in time to change into jeans to meet Xavier and Liam. She felt as though she were going out with her two boys. The pub Liam had chosen was as noisy and crowded as she feared it would be. They could hardly hear each other as they shouted across the table during dinner. Afterward, they went to the bar, where Xavier flirted with assorted women, and Liam tried to have an intelligent conversation with Sasha. She couldn't wait for the evening to end, and instead it seemed to go on forever. It was odd for her being there with Liam. The women crowding around them, and lusting after him openly, were all in their early twenties. As she looked at them, and at him, she knew she didn't want to be there. Ten minutes later, she told them both that she had a splitting headache. She left them there, happy and drinking. Neither of them was drunk when she left, but she suspected they would be eventually. It was a far different evening than the night before with Phillip. As polite and civilized as that was, this was loud, disorderly, and chaotic. And as she rode back to the hotel alone, she realized that the evening and where they spent it made her feel sad and ancient. She didn't know why, but it had depressed her to see Liam. This was the price she had to pay for her foolishness in getting involved with him. Now, each time she saw him, she would have to remember what had happened, and why it ended. Because Liam was not an option for her. It could never have worked.

She was relieved to get back to the hotel, and take her clothes off. She put on her nightgown and lay on the bed, enjoying the silence, and thinking about him. It was weird to think now that he had once been hers, and now he was available to all those young, excited, and faceless women. She believed, as she always had, that he should be with women closer to his age, and younger than she was. The one thing she didn't know, and maybe never would, was who she belonged with. Maybe no one. She felt out of place and lonely everywhere now, in Liam's world, and her own.

She turned the lights off at eleven o'clock, and was sound asleep when the phone rang. For a minute, she had no idea where she was, and then she remembered. The voice on the phone was deep and familiar.

“I'm downstairs in the lobby” was what he said for openers.

“Who is this?”

“It's Liam.”

“I was sleeping.”

“How's your headache?”

“I think it's better.” She didn't want to tell him she'd never had one.

“I need to talk to you.” He sounded anxious.

“I'll call you tomorrow.” She didn't want to see him. It would just make her sadder. She had left him where he belonged that night, in the pub, with all those excruciatingly young women.

“I don't want to wait till then. Please, Sasha …let me come up and see you.”

“I don't think that's a good idea.” She was wide awake now. “We've got everything where it belongs. We're friends again. Let's not screw it up by discussing what went wrong and why it did. You're happy. I'm happy. We don't need to go over it again.”

“I don't want to go over anything. I just want to see you.”

“I look the same as I did two hours ago, in a nightgown instead of blue jeans.”

“Please …I know you're leaving in the morning.” He sounded sad.

“I'll call you from Paris.” She was firm.

“I don't want to talk to you in Paris. You're here now. I want to see you.”

“Are you drunk?” she asked, sounding worried.

“No. But I will be if you don't see me.” He laughed.

She sighed, thinking about it. There wasn't a single good reason to see him. And several bad ones. She was still attracted to him, and she didn't want anything crazy to happen.

“Shit… all right… come on up, but if you do anything stupid, I'll call security and have them throw you out.”

“I won't do anything stupid. I promise.”

She got out of bed, put on a dressing gown, and walked into the living room of her suite. He was there before she had finished tying the belt on her bathrobe. He knocked once. She opened the door and looked at him. He looked tall and lean and beautiful, and the same stirrings were there, but this time she didn't heed them. She stepped back from the door and waved him in, looking sleepy.

“I'm sorry…I don't know why, Sash… but I had to see you.”

“Well, now you see me.” She smiled at him, and sat down in a chair, as he walked over, kneeled down, and put his arms around her.

“I'm sorry I was so stupid before. I thought you were demeaning me, and it drove me crazy. I wanted to go with you that night, and I wanted you to be proud of me. I just didn't know how to say it.”

“I didn't handle it well either. Sometimes that happens. The crazier you got, the more I dug my heels in. I told you it was impossible. It never could have worked between us.”

“It's still possible, if you want it to be. I've been doing a lot of thinking.”

“Don't start that again. I don't want to argue with you. And I'm not going to do anything stupid.” She crossed her arms over her chest as she said it, which took a considerable amount of effort. What she really wanted was to put her arms around him, but she wasn't going to let that happen. She still had feelings for him. And he'd been drinking. A lethal combination, as they had proven too many times.

“How was your date last night?”

“Charming, intelligent, respectable, and unbelievably boring,” she said, without thinking, and then stared at him. “I can't believe I just said that. I had a perfectly nice time, with a perfectly decent person. I don't know why I said that.” She was upset by what she'd just said. The words had just slipped out.

“Probably because it's true. Sasha, I love you.” He said it with a look of desperation. “And I don't give a damn if we keep us a secret. I realize now that it would have to be. It would make a mess if it weren't. I don't care if we never go to parties together. I just want to be with you, and share what we had before I blew it all to shit in Paris.”

“You didn't blow it all to shit,” she said kindly, “we both did. This was never meant to be. I told you, Liam. It's impossible. How stupid are we both going to be? We got lucky. We hurt each other, but we didn't do an incredible amount of damage. Next time we could, and end it very badly. Let's just quit while we're ahead. I'll be the art dealer, and you be the artist.” As she said it, he stood in front of her, leaned down, and kissed her. And hating herself for it, she responded. “Okay, so I love you. It doesn't change anything. I'm not going to do this. It's impossible. Impossible. How many times and how many ways do I have to say it?” He kissed her again, and this time when he stopped, she was breathless. “Liam … don't… please… we'll just drive each other crazy again …” He couldn't stop kissing her, and she couldn't stop kissing him.

“I'm already crazy,” he said miserably. “I have been ever since I was stupid enough to walk out on you in Paris.”

“You weren't stupid… and I don't want you to be my secret. You were right. You deserve better. And I can't give it to you. I'm not ready to tell the world I have a boyfriend or a lover or whatever you are who's ten years younger. It makes me feel like a dirty old lady.”