Danielle Steel - Bittersweet

She didn't know what to say to him for a minute. In a way, she didn't blame him, but he hadn't and he had to go on now. “That wasn't meant to happen. You're still here, and she wouldn't want you to waste it.”

“No, the terrorists did that for me. They blew my life to bits, and everyone else's.”

“I know.” It seemed wrong to tell him that in time he'd feel better, but he would someday. It was just the way life worked. He would never forget Serena, or stop loving her, but in time he would learn to live without her. He had no choice. “It'll do you good to be on the Sea Star” she said quietly, as she saw Aimee walk across the room and out again, and she wondered when Doug and Sam would be home. But she was still alone in the kitchen.

“Promise that you'll call me?” he said, sounding desperately lonely, and she nodded.

“I will. I have the number.”

“I'll call you too. Sometimes I just need someone to talk to.” She wanted to be there for him, and she was touched that he had reached out to her.

“You helped me a lot this summer.” And then, with a sense of her own despair, she felt as though she owed him an apology or an explanation. “I'm sorry to disappoint you.”

“You're not disappointing me, India. I just don't want you to let yourself down, and regret it later. But you won't. You'll see. Sooner or later you'll get up the courage to do what you have to.” And do what, she wondered. Defy her husband? If she did, she knew she'd lose him, and she didn't want to.

“I'm not there yet,” she said honestly, “and maybe I never will be.”

“You will be. One day. Just tuck those dreams of yours into a safe place somewhere, and remember where you left them.” It was a sweet thing to say, and she was touched by the entire conversation.

“I'm glad you called, Paul,” she said gently.

“So am I.” He sounded as though he meant it.

“When are you leaving?” She wanted to know where he was now, so she could imagine him, and reach out to him if she had to.

“Tonight. I'm flying to Paris, and then switching planes and going on to Nice. The boat is going to pick me up there.” The crew had already flown back that morning, and it was a short distance from Portofino to Nice. He knew they'd be there for him. And then he sighed, as he looked around the room where he was sitting. It was filled with pictures of Serena, and the treasures she had collected during the years of their marriage. He couldn't bear to be there. “I guess I should sell the apartment eventually. I can't stand being here. Maybe they can do it while I'm gone, and put everything in storage.”

“Don't move too quickly,” she said wisely. “Give it time, Paul. You don't know what you want to do yet.”

“No, I don't. I just want to run away and turn the clock back.”

“You can do that on the Sea Star,” she said gently, as Doug walked into the room and stood behind her. “Take good care of yourself, try to be strong,” she urged him, as Doug left the room again to look for something. “And when you're not strong,” she said softly, “call me. I'll be here.”

“I know. Me too. I'm always here for you, India, if you need me. Don't forget that. And don't let anyone make you think they own you. They don't.” They both knew he meant Doug as she listened. “You own you. Got that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Take care….” She could hear tears in his voice again. He was on an agonizing roller coaster of emotion, and she felt so sorry for him.

“Take care of yourself, Paul. You're not as alone as you feel right now. Try to remember that. And in her own way, she's right there with you.”

He laughed through his tears then. “This is probably the only way I could have gotten her to stay with me on the Sea Star , but it's a hell of a way to do it.” If nothing else, it was good to hear him laughing. “Talk to you soon, India.”

“Thanks for calling,” she said, and they both hung up then. She sighed, and stood up to see Doug standing in the doorway, frowning at her.

“Who was that?” He looked angry as he asked her.

“Paul Ward. He called to thank me for a photograph of Serena I sent him.”

“It sounds as though the grieving widower is recovering very quickly. How long has she been gone? Less than a week now?”

“That's an awful thing to say.” She looked horrified at what he was implying. “He was crying on the phone.”

“I'm sure he was. That's the oldest ploy in history. All he has to do is whine a little bit, make you feel sorry for him, and bingo. You fell for it like a ton of bricks, India. You sounded like you were talking to your boyfriend.”

“That's disgusting. He's a nice man and a decent person, and he's heartbroken over losing her. He's just terribly upset and very lonely, and we struck up a nice friendship this summer.”

“I'll bet you did. His wife wasn't there then either, was she? I remember your telling me she wasn't there the first time you told me about him. So where was she then, if she was so madly in love with him?” He was filled with venom and suspicion, and ready to accuse her.

“She was working, Doug,” India said quietly. “Some women do that.”

“Is she the one who filled your head with all that garbage? Was he part of that scheme?” Doug was just aching to despise him, and India was angry at him for it. Whatever she felt for Paul, she had no intention of acting on it, or even letting Paul know, let alone her husband. She wasn't even sure herself exactly what she felt for him, and whatever it was, the affection she felt for him had chosen the path of friendship. And there was no reason for it ever to go any further. “I think you're a fool if you don't see what he's doing here, India. And I don't want him calling here again. You sounded like you were talking to your lover.”

“I don't have a lover, Doug,” she said icily, suddenly unable to stop her own rage. She hated what he had been saying to her. “If I did, I might be happier than I am now. But in any case, Paul Ward is not that person. He loved his wife, and he had a deep respect for her, and her career, something which you know nothing about. And I suspect he's going to mourn her for a long time.”

“And when he stops, you'll be there for him? Is that it? Maybe you'd like being the mistress of a man with all that money.”

“You make me sick, Doug,” she said, and walked back up to Jessica's room to finish her closets. She didn't even want to see Doug, and for the rest of the afternoon she avoided him completely. But the atmosphere was no better between them when they left for dinner. She didn't even want to go out with him, but she thought that if she didn't, it would cause more trouble.

If she had thought about it, she might have been flattered that he had expressed jealousy over Paul, but the way he expressed it was so offensive that it only made her angry. And what he had said to her was disgusting. Paul Ward was very certainly not her lover, and never would be. He was only a very good friend. Of that, she was certain.

The meal she and Doug shared that night was strained, in spite of his allegedly good intentions in taking her out. But what he had said to her that afternoon had doomed his efforts to failure. They scarcely said a word to each other while they ate. And the movie they went to was so depressing, India just sat and cried through the whole film, and she felt worse than ever when they got home, and Doug paid the sitter. As far as India was concerned, it was a disastrous evening, and Doug didn't think it had been much better.

He was feeling discouraged as he walked upstairs, and neither of them wanted to go to bed, so they sat in chairs and turned the TV on, and watched an old movie they had both liked. It was actually better than the one they had seen in the theater. They ended up staying up late, and they went down to the kitchen for a snack at one o'clock in the morning.