Danielle Steel - Bittersweet

“Why? At your age, you don't need to get remarried.”

“Who said anything about marriage?” He flinched at his son's words and extrasensory perception. He had been thinking about it only that morning, when contemplating the commute to Westport. There was no way they could do that forever.

“Well, if you don't want to get married, why date? Besides, you have the Sea Star.” It seemed like a reasonable trade-off to him. And Paul was less than amused to realize that, at fifty-seven, his son thought he was too old to be dating.

“Since when are you so interested in yachting? Besides, I just thought you'd be interested in what I'm doing. One of these days, I'd like you to meet her.”

“If you're not going to marry her, Dad, I don't need to meet her,” Sean said bluntly, instantly creating an impossible situation. If Paul introduced India to him now it meant they were getting married. And to provide a little distraction, he told him instead about her work and her enormous talent.

“Great,” Sean said without much interest. “Does she have kids?” Another psychic stroke of genius on his part. Paul nodded vaguely, as Sean honed in on him further. “How many?”

“A few.” Paul said it with a feeling of rising panic, and Sean sensed it.

“How many?” he repeated.

“Four.”

“Young ones?”

“Nine to fourteen.” He decided he might as well tell him. Why hide it?

“Are you kidding?”

“No.”

“Are you crazy?”

“Maybe.” He was beginning to wonder.

“You can't even stand my kids for more than ten minutes.”

“Yours are younger. And they cry all the time. Hers don't.”

“Wait. They'll go to jail. They'll get drunk. They'll get into drugs. They'll get pregnant, or maybe she will. Dad, you'll love it.”

“Don't be such a pain in the ass at your age. You didn't.”

“You don't know half the stuff I did. Besides, you didn't let me. Dad, look, at your age, you don't need a woman with four kids. Why can't you find someone a little older?”

“How about Georgia O'Keeffe? Is that old enough for you? She must be in her nineties.”

“I think she's dead,” Sean said without humor. “Come on, be serious. Go back to the boat and relax. I think you're having a midlife crisis.”

“Thank you for your optimism,” Paul said drily, but in spite of what he was saying to his son, Sean had shaken him a little. It was hard to sell a woman with four children. “If I'm having a midlife crisis, by the way, that means you expect me to live to a hundred and fourteen. I'll do my best to oblige you. And no, I'm not senile. She's a good friend, and a nice woman, and I like her. I just thought you'd want to know, that's all. Forget it.”

“No,” Sean said sternly, getting even for all the lectures Paul had given him before, during, and since college, “you forget it.” And with that, they moved on to other subjects, but it was obvious as they left ‘2G that Sean was still worried. He said he'd call his father on the weekend about seeing the kids, and Paul didn't have the heart to tell him he was busy. He just said he'd call him if he didn't go away for the weekend. But Sean knew instantly what that meant. And when he went home to his wife, racked with morning sickness and looking green, he told her his father had lost his marbles. But to her credit, she had the same reaction as her father-in-law, and told her husband not to be so stuffy. His father had a perfect right to do what he wanted, and Sean told her in no uncertain terms to mind her own business.

But the dreams Paul had that night were far worse than anything Sean could have wished on him. He dreamt of Serena all night, and airplanes exploding in midair. Twice he woke and heard her screaming at him about what he'd done, and then he heard her sobbing because he'd been unfaithful to her. And Paul felt ninety when he woke up in the morning. And one thing Sean had said had stuck in his mind like a cactus. What if India got pregnant? The thought of it made him nauseous. And when she called him in the office that afternoon and left the message that she'd be at the hotel to meet him at five-thirty, he had his secretary call back to say he'd be there.

But the moment he saw her, he forgot his nightmares and Sean's warnings. The instant he kissed her, he melted. They wound up in bed before dinnertime, and finally sent for room service at midnight. She was the most bewitching woman he'd ever known, and in spite of how many children she had, he knew he loved her. Worse than that. He was crazy about her. And the weekend they spent together was pure magic.

They walked in Central Park and held hands, went to the Metropolitan, and the movies. They saw a love story that ended badly, and they both cried. They bought books together, and read, and listened to music. They loved all the same things, and she talked with great anticipation about their cruise together on the Sea Star. She shared all her dreams with him, and her fears, as she had on the phone, and by Sunday afternoon, he hated the idea of her leaving, but she had to pick up the children after dinner. And when she drove away again, he couldn't stand the prospect of a night without her.

And Sunday night was worse than Thursday had been. He dreamed that he lay in Serena's arms all night, and she begged him not to let her die, she wanted to stay with him forever. He woke up at three A.M. and sobbed for an hour, racked with guilt over what he was doing. He never went back to sleep, and in the morning he knew he should never have survived her. He couldn't bear to live through it. And when he called India, she sounded so sweet, and she was obviously concerned about him.

He felt like a dead man himself when he left the hotel for the office. He had promised to go to Westport that night, but at six o'clock he called her and told her he couldn't. He just couldn't face her. He needed another night to himself, just to think about Serena, and what he was doing. He thought he'd probably feel better in the morning, and India had promised to drive into the city. She had a sitter who could stay overnight, and she had told the children she was visiting a sick friend, and had to stay over with her. But how often could she do that?

And when she got to the hotel that night, Paul was waiting for her. He looked gray, and India was instantly worried. She asked him what he'd eaten, and if he had a fever, and he told her calmly that he didn't.

“You don't look well, sweetheart,” she said gently. And he felt like a serial killer. After the months they'd shared on the phone, he knew her too well, knew how she thought and what she felt, and everything that she believed in. She believed in hope and dreams and honesty and loyalty and all the best of human emotions. She also believed in happy endings, and this one wasn't. It couldn't be. He had realized in the two days he hadn't spent with her that he was still in love with Serena, and felt sure now that he always would be.

He sat down next to India on the couch and looked at her, and she felt her heart sliding slowly to her feet. All he could see was the golden hair, the huge blue eyes growing bigger by the minute, and her face getting so pale it scared him.

“I think you know what I'm going to say,” he said miserably.

“I don't want to hear it,” she said hoarsely. “What happened?”

“I woke up, India. I came to my senses.”

“No, you didn't,” she said, fighting back tears, “you went crazy.” She knew the words before he said them, and her heart was pounding so hard she thought it was going to leap out of her chest. She was terrified to lose him. She had waited a lifetime for him.

“I was crazy when I told you I loved you. I didn't. I was excited by you. … I wanted it to be everything I thought it was. You're the most wonderful woman I've ever known. But I'm in love with Serena. I always will be. I know it. I can't do this.”