Love in Gray Shadows by S. Anne Gardner

~  Love  in  Gray  Shadows  ~   by  S.  Anne  Gardner     Author's  Note:  Through  the  years  that  came  to  be  my  life  I  found  myself  rethinking   the  meaning  of  the  word  "Love".  I  learned  mostly  that  I  knew  nothing.  And  that  was   the  real  beginning  of  the  way  I  truly  began  to  live.       Love  is  a  unique  experience?surreal?passion  filled?.  nerve  racking  and  absolutely   sexless.  We  as  humans  all  have  the  capacity  of  loving  and  yet  we  rarely  ever  truly  do.   We  can  all  be  love's  joyous  slaves;  it  can  take  us  to  heaven  or  into  the  bowels  of  hell.       This  is  my  statement  to  love;  if  one  is  possible.  'Love  has  no  definition  and  no   confines.'  I  learned  that  loving  made  me  a  finer  human  being  and  that  I  became   more  tolerant  and  understanding  of  others.  I  hope  you  read  this  story  and   understand  what  I  have  tried  to  convey.     S.  Anne  Gardner       Disclaimers:  Unlike  the  other  stories  contained  on  Gemini  and  S  Anne  Gardner's  web   page  this  story  contains  a  heterosexual  relationship  of  sorts.  It's  hard  to  explain,  but   if  the  idea  of  a  man  and  woman  together  sexually  disturbs  you,  then  this  is  not  your   story.       All  characters  within  this  story  are  property  of  S.  Anne  Gardner.  Nothing  from  this   story  can  be  reproduced  without  express  written  permission  from  S.  Anne  Gardner.       Comments  are  appreciated.  Please  email  your  comments  to  [email protected].       ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~         Police  lights  and  sirens  filled  the  night  sky.  They  had  been  called  to  a  very   prestigious  address  at  Central  Park  South.  When  the  detective  arrived  at  the  scene   the  police  had  been  there  for  a  long  while.  Apparently,  the  owner  of  the  magnificent   brownstone  had  shot  himself  in  the  head.       The  detective  walked  into  the  library  and  was  struck  with  the  wealth  of  his   surroundings.  The  walls  were  paneled  in  mahogany.  Custom  built  bookcases  held   precious  first  editions  beautifully  bound  in  leather  covered  in  brilliant  colors,   finished  in  gold  leaf.      

Among  all  this  pushiness  he  saw  the  dead  man.  His  head  was  lying  in  a  pool  of  blood   on  his  desk.  He  had  in  his  left  hand  the  portrait  of  a  beautiful  young  woman  and  a   gun  still  on  the  other.       He  was  a  man  in  his  sixties,  well  known  and  well  to  do.  When  they  had  arrived  a   large  size  television  screen  flickered  with  a  blue  background.  All  you  could  hear  was   the  ongoing  sound  of  the  remaining  blank  video.  The  detective  walked  over  and   turned  it  off.       ~~~~~~~~~~     A  light  breeze  came  up  from  the  ocean.  The  music  floated  out  from  the  palatial   mansion  and  seemed  to  cling  heavily  in  the  air.  It  was  the  last  party  of  the  season.  He   asked  himself  why  he  had  wasted  his  time  coming  to  these  things;  he  must  have   been  out  of  his  mind  to  think  that  he  could  find  her.       He  had  come  to  visit  his  childhood  friend  in  the  early  part  of  the  summer.  He  did  this   trying  to  avoid  the  crowds  that  usually  migrated  to  the  Hamptons  in  the  summer   months.  It  had  been  a  day  like  any  other  and  quite  suddenly  something  happened   that  would  change  his  whole  life.       He  was  sitting  with  Whitney  in  a  cafe  having  lunch  when  quite  simply  he  looked  out   the  window.  That  was  the  first  time  he  saw  her.  He  had  kept  coming  back  to  the   Hamptons  in  hopes  of  seeing  her  again.  It  had  all  begun  that  simply  one  summer   afternoon.       He  felt  foolish  and  uncomfortable  in  this  role.  Early  on  in  his  life  he  had  realized  that   women  were  attracted  to  him  like  flies.  He  had  been  born  unto  wealth  and  he  knew   that  he  was  thought  to  be  attractive.  He  had  never  had  to  chase  any  woman.  This   one  he  hadn't  even  spoken  to  for  God's  sake;  he  had  started  to  tell  himself  this  of   late.       He  had  only  seen  her  briefly  and  yet  he  couldn't  get  her  out  of  his  mind.  His   subconscious  would  conjure  up  such  dreams  that  would  drive  him  crazy.  He  had   gradually  become  obsessed  with  the  image  of  a  woman  he  could  not  find.       He  was  going  back  to  the  party  when  from  the  corner  of  his  eye  he  saw  her  come  out   onto  the  balcony.  She  had  not  noticed  his  presence  in  the  shadows.  He  filled  his  eyes   with  her  and  he  began  to  wonder  whether  she  was  real  or  whether  she  was  a   product  of  his  over  active  imagination.       She  wore  a  long  white  gauzy  dress  that  the  breeze  blew  lightly  around  her.  It   surrounded  her  like  a  cloud  of  white.  She  possessed  a  beauty  that  a  man  might  die   for.  She  seemed  delicate  and  she  had  a  look  of  sadness  about  her,  which  made  her  all   the  more  attractive  to  him.  He  was  filled  with  an  overwhelming  desire  to  protect   her.    

  Her  hair  was  up  in  a  soft  pile  and  by  being  so  it  accented  the  perfection  of  her  neck   and  bare  shoulders.  He  approached  her  slowly.  He  was  afraid  that  when  he  spoke   the  illusion  would  disappear  forever  but  he  had  to  try.       "It's  a  beautiful  night  isn't?  "  He  said  as  he  looked  out  towards  the  sea.       She  looked  in  the  direction  of  where  the  voice  had  come  from.  At  that  moment  he   turned  his  gaze  and  their  eyes  met.  She  was  so  beautiful  it  took  his  breath  away  and   all  he  could  do  was  look  at  her.       "Yes,"  she  said  simply.       "I'm  John  Stanton",  he  introduced  himself  and  put  his  hand  out  to  her.  She  hesitated   for  a  moment  but  her  hand  went  out  to  meet  his.       "I'm  Isabelle,"  she  said  softly.       "Well,  I  agree  you  are  beautiful  enough  to  be  known  by  only  one  name."  He  meant  to   compliment  her  but  quite  suddenly  she  pulled  her  hand  from  his.  She  seemed   nervous  and  uncomfortable  as  she  spoke  again..       "I'm  Isabelle  Mercer  and  I  consider  myself  quite  ordinary."       He  thought  for  a  moment  before  he  spoke.  "You're  not  ordinary,  not  ordinary  at  all,"   he  said  to  her.       She  turned  to  face  the  ocean  and  away  from  him  with  such  longing  in  her  eyes.  He   could  see  the  pain  inside  her  and  it  touched  him.  "Even  in  your  sadness  you  seem   beautiful,"  he  said  and  she  looked  in  his  direction  again.       Before  she  could  speak  he  took  a  few  steps  closer  to  her  and  took  her  into  his  arms.   "Dance  with  me."  He  hadn't  given  her  the  chance  to  say  no.       She  looked  up  in  surprise  and  their  eyes  met  once  more.  They  danced  in  silence  at   first.  And  almost  by  magical  conjuring  they  were  suddenly  surrounded  and  held  by   the  dream  like  music  coming  from  within.       They  became  one  body.  And  as  the  music  ended  he  refused  to  release  her.  She  raised   her  face  in  question  and  as  she  did  so  his  lips  met  hers.       At  first  his  lips  teased  hers  lightly  and  as  she  pulled  away  slightly,  he  pulled  her   closer  to  him.  Her  body  seemed  to  melt  into  his.  As  his  lips  became  more  demanding   hers  opened  to  welcome  him.      

A  passion  erupted  in  them  that  neither  had  ever  experienced  before.  They  were   caught  up  in  a  whirlwind  of  emotion  that  spun  around  them  with  a  velocity  that   neither  could  control.  She  broke  the  embrace  suddenly.       She  pushed  away  from  him.  Her  hands  on  his  chest  kept  him  at  a  distance.  They  both   panted  for  breath.  He  wanted  more,  she  could  clearly  see  that,  but  all  he  could  see  in   her  face  was  fear.  This  brought  him  back  to  the  reality  of  the  situation  all  too   quickly.       "I'm  sorry,  I  didn't  want  to  frighten  you.  I've  been  wanting  to  kiss  you  for  three   months,"  he  finished  saying  with  a  half  smile.       "Three  months?"       "I  saw  you  three  months  ago  walking  down  the  street  as  I  was  having  lunch  with  a   friend,"  he  said  simply.  She  turned  away  from  him  and  put  her  hands  on  the  rail  for   support  as  she  looked  out  into  the  water  again.  He  stood  very  still  not  wanting  to   frighten  her  away.       "I'm  not  looking  for  a  relationship,  Mr.  Stanton,"  she  stated  simply.       "What  are  you  looking  for  Isabelle?"  He  asked  her  plainly.       "Nothing,"  she  answered  quickly.       He  turned  and  leaned  against  the  rail  with  his  back  to  the  water.  He  ran  his  fingers   through  his  hair.  "You  must  think  I'm  crazy,"  he  said  softly.  She  said  nothing.  "Are   you  married?"       "No."       "Are  you  engaged?"       "No."       He  turned  to  look  at  her.  And  very  slowly  asked  her  the  question  that  mattered   most.  "Are  you  in  love  Isabelle?"       She  thought  for  a  moment  and  said  "No."       He  smiled  to  himself  in  victory.  "I  know  you  don't  find  me  unattractive,"  he  said  to   her  and  he  could  see  that  he  had  dented  her  resolve.       She  looked  in  his  direction.  "I  ...I  can't  Mr.  Stanton...I  can't,"  she  pleaded  with  him   suddenly.      

He  didn't  understand  but  he  decided  to  give  her  room.  For  right  now  it  was  probably   best.  They  both  stood  very  close.       "Okay,"  he  said  simply  and  she  seemed  to  visibly  relax.       "Have  lunch  with  me  tomorrow?"  He  asked  suddenly.  Before  she  had  a  chance  to   answer  he  added.  "Just  lunch...I've  been  trying  to  find  you  for  three  months...Just   lunch....  Please?"  He  gaver  her  his  most  charming  smile.       "No,  I'm  sorry,  Mr.  Stanton,"  she  answered  in  a  voice  which  was  almost  a  whisper.       He  stood  next  to  her  not  willing  to  let  her  just  walk  out  of  his  life.       "Isabelle..."  he  beckoned.  She  turned  to  look  at  him.  "I  can't  just  walk  away  Isabelle,"   he  told  honestly  to  her.       She  started  to  move  away  and  he  reached  out  for  her.       "Just  lunch,"  he  insisted.       "I  can't,"  she  repeated.  He  released  her  and  she  walked  away  from  him.  He  stayed   under  the  moonlight  as  she  walked  back  inside.       ~~~~~~~~~~     It  turned  out  that  Whitney  knew  her.  That  night  he  found  out  that  Isabelle  and  a  few   other  friends  were  going  to  have  lunch  at  the  yacht  club  the  next  day.       She  had  turned  him  down  flat.  Normally  that  would  have  been  enough.  Some  might   say  that  it  was  pride  that  didn't  allow  him  to  walk  away.  But  most  people  didn't   know  John  Stanton.       He  never  really  had  to  try  hard  to  get  what  he  wanted.  He  had  everything  most   people  would  ever  dream  of.  He  had  never  really  known  what  it  was  like  to  want.   And  he  wanted  Isabelle.  He  wanted  her  with  every  fiber  that  his  body  and  soul   possessed.       He  had  never  known  such  hunger  or  such  longing  in  his  life.  The  idea  of  not  having   her  in  his  arms  again  drove  him  to  madness.  She  was  different  than  any  other   woman  he  had  ever  met.  Her  frailty  attracted  him.  He  was  overwhelmed  with  a   desire  to  possess  her  and  protect  her.       For  a  moment  he  had  seen  into  her  soul  and  that  had  touched  something  in  him  that   would  connect  her  to  him  forever.  He  had  seen  her  pain,  which  for  some  irrational   reason  touched  him  and  fused  him  to  her.  It  intrigued  him.  He  had  never  known  pain  

in  his  life.  And,  quite  suddenly  this  woman  had  made  him  see  pain  and  in  her  he   found  it  disturbing.       He  arrived  at  the  yacht  club  early.  He  stood  near  a  window  like  a  statue  and  just   stared  out  waiting.  Ever  since  the  moment  he  had  kissed  her  nothing  else  mattered.   It  didn't  seem  important  for  him  to  try  to  do  anything  but  wait  for  her.  And  all  he   wanted  was  Isabelle.       He  turned  around  the  moment  she  came  into  the  room  almost  by  instinct.  And,   seeing  her  didn't  surprise  him.  He  had  felt  her  coming.  He  took  in  as  much  as  he   could  with  his  eyes.  She  saw  the  hunger  in  him  visible  in  his  eyes  and  she  turned   away  from  it.  He  hardly  spoke  to  her  at  lunch.       They  were  a  nice  group  really,  but  he  couldn't  have  cared  less  whether  they  were   pleasant  or  not  if  she  hadn't  been  there.  Occasionally,  he  did  catch  her  looking  at   him  and  that  gave  him  hope.       ~~~~~~~~~~     For  the  next  few  weeks  he  showed  up  at  every  lunch,  dinner  or  event  she  attended.   Always,  keeping  his  distance.  If  she  began  to  expect  him  that  was  fine.  That  was   what  he  wanted.       Slowly  he  would  talk  to  her  matter  of  factly,  never  getting  her  alone  anywhere.   Never  had  he  courted  any  woman  like  this;  he  was  patience  personified.  Whitney   would  look  at  him  and  shake  her  head  in  amusement.       "John,  why  don't  you  give  up.  She's  obviously  not  interested,"  Whitney  said  to  him   one  afternoon.       "She's  frightened.  She's  been  hurt,  I  can  see  that.  I  just  can't  walk  away  from  her,   Whit.  I  can't  explain  it...I  just  can't."  She  could  hear  the  exasperation  in  his  voice.       "My  God,  you  love  her!"  She  said  as  it  suddenly  became  obvious  to  her.  She  looked   up  at  him  and  he  was  yet  again  looking  at  Isabelle,  and  his  answer  was  barely  a   whisper       "Yes."  He  loved  her.  The  knowledge  of  it  filled  his  chest.  He  felt  weighted  down  by  it.   For  quiet  suddenly  he  realized  she  might  never  love  him  in  return.       He  had  never  been  in  love.  It  was  driving  him  crazy.  He  couldn't  have  mistaken  her   reaction  that  night  when  he  kissed  her,  he  kept  telling  himself.  He  had  felt  her   hunger.      

"I  don't  know  how  to  reach  her  Whitney.  She's  different  than  any  woman  I  have  ever   known.  I  want  her  so  bad  it  physically  hurts.  She  doesn't  even  give  me  the  time  of   day!"  He  finished  in  exasperation  and  despair.       "I  would  never  have  guessed  that  you  would  ever  surcome  Johnny!"  She  said  in  jest.       He  looked  at  her  seriously.  "It's  not  funny  Whitney!"  He  sounded  angry.       "I'm  sorry,  I'm  really  sorry,"  she  said  to  him  and  meant  it.       "I  just  don't  know  how  to  reach  her.  You're  the  only  woman  friend  I  have."       "That's  because  I  refused  to  be  your  girlfriend  when  I  was  ten  and  you  were  eleven."   She  smiled  at  him.       "Yeah,"  he  said  returning  her  smile.       "I've  known  her  for  a  short  time  Johnny  but  she  seems  like  a  genuinely  nice  person.   She's  a  little  aloof.  I've  never  seen  her  with  a  male  friend  or  a  woman  friend,  if  you   know  what  I  mean."       "You  like  her  don't  you  Whit,"  he  said  in  satisfaction.       "Yeah,  there's  something  about  her  that  seems  genuine  and  noble.  But  I  also  see  that   she  is  filled  with  some  great  pain,  Johnny,  and  that  is  something  that  may  keep  her   away  from  you  forever,"  she  finished  sadly.       "What  do  you  mean?"  He  asked  perplexed.       "If  someone  or  something  has  hurt  her  so  much  that  she  can't  shake  it  she  might  not   want  to  take  a  chance  in  being  hurt  ever  again."  She  looked  quite  seriously  at  him.       "I'll  make  her  want  to  take  a  chance,"  he  said  confidently  looking  back  in  Isabelle's   direction  once  more.       "I  hope  you're  right,  Johnny,"  Whitney  said  to  him.       He  was  her  best  friend.  John  had  always  been  so  confident  and  so  strong.  This  might   be  something  he  could  not  handle  and  that  worried  her.  Rejection  was  alien  to  him   but  worse  of  all  was  the  fact  that  rejection  by  the  only  woman  he  had  ever  really   wanted  might  be  hard  to  handle  indeed.       ~~~~~~~~~~     They  all  usually  went  out  as  a  group.  It  had  been  decided  to  have  a  picnic  on  the   beach  the  day  before.  It  was  to  be  the  last  of  the  season.  The  summer  had  come  to  an  

end  and  all  would  be  leaving  their  summer  playground  within  days.  Isabelle  was   walking  alone  on  the  beach  picking  up  shells  when  he  walked  over  to  her.       "What  are  you  doing  daughter  of  Neptune?  Gathering  up  treasures  to  return  to  the   sea?"  He  said  to  her  with  a  smile.  She  looked  up  at  him  covering  her  eyes  from  the   sun  with  her  hand.       "Well  you  know  how  it  is,  occasionally  we  do  want  our  treasures  back."  She   returned  his  smile.  This  was  a  good  day.  The  first  time  he  had  felt  like  he  was   actually  getting  to  her.       "Isabelle,  have  dinner  with  me  and  I  promise  to  gather  all  the  treasure  that  Neptune   can  ever  want,"  he  said  taking  a  characteristic  bow.       "No  thanks,"  she  said  and  then  started  walking  down  the  beach  away  from  him.  He   had  broken  the  connection  with  his  impatience,  he  told  himself.  He  would  try  again.       "Can  I  walk  with  you?"  He  asked  as  he  walked  next  her.       "I  don't  own  the  beach,"  she  answered  as  she  kept  walking.       She  neither  encouraged  nor  discouraged  him.  They  walked  in  silence.  She  stopped   and  stared  out  into  the  ocean  after  they  had  walked  for  what  seemed  like  a  long   time.       "Do  you  ever  wonder  what's  out  there?  Way  out  there  where  there's  only  water  and   sky?"  She  asked  suddenly,  appearing  to  be  mesmerized.       "Why  don't  we  find  out?"  He  said  softly.  She  turned  and  looked  at  him.  "We  can  sail   out  there  and  find  out."  He  could  see  that  she  was  tempted  but  not  enough.       "No,"  she  said  as  she  started  walking  again.       "Isabelle!"  He  held  her  in  place,  holding  her  by  the  arm.  The  desperation  was   obvious  in  his  voice.  "Am  I  so  terrible?"  He  asked  in  desperation.  "You  can't  possibly   find  me  so  undesirable  that  I'm  not  even  worthy  of  an  afternoon  sail?"       "Let  me  go!"  She  demanded.       "What's  wrong  with  me?  What  makes  me  so  horrible?"  He  asked  again,  still  hanging   on  to  her.       "Let  me  go!"  She  pulled  hard  as  he  released  her  and  fell  down  hard  onto  the  sand.  He   was  next  to  her  immediately.       "Are  you  all  right?  I'm  so  sorry...Are  you  all  right?"    

  "Yes,  just  leave  me  alone,"  she  said  turning  away  from  him.  He  grabbed  her  arms   and  she  fell  on  her  back.  He  was  immediately  over  her.       His  mouth  found  hers  and  coaxed  her  lips  to  open.  He  could  feel  her  body  respond   beneath  him.  Suddenly,  she  started  pushing  him  away.       "Stop  it!  Get  off!  Get  off!"  She  was  becoming  hysterical.  Her  fear  brought  him  to  his   senses.  He  immediately  released  her.  She  started  to  gasp  for  air.       "Are  you  ill?"  He  asked  concerned.       "I'll  be  okay,  I  just  need  to  be  alone."  She  looked  quite  pale.  "Please,  please  John  just   go  away,"  she  pleaded.       "I  can't  just  leave  you  like  this."  He  was  concerned.       "Please  go,  just  go!"       "Isabelle..."       "Just  go,  please.."       He  got  up  and  walked  away  from  her.       He  didn't  see  her  for  the  next  few  days.  Whitney  said  she  had  not  been  feeling  well.   He  tried  going  to  see  her  but  she  refused  to  see  him.       ~~~~~~~~~~     He  had  been  neglecting  his  business  and  his  life  in  New  York.  None  of  that  seemed  to   matter  to  him.  It  had  been  two  months  since  he  had  found  Isabelle  and  he  was  no   closer  to  her  now  than  he  had  been  when  this  all  started  five  months  before.  When   he  thought  he  was  making  progress  he  felt  glad  and  somehow  within  days  that  one   step  forward  resulted  in  three  steps  back.       His  frustration  had  made  him  more  aggressive  in  his  need  of  her.  He  shouldn't  have   pushed  so  hard.  He  had  scared  her  that  day  at  the  beach.  Dear  Lord,  he  had   practically  assaulted  her!       She  had  become  an  obsession  and  he  didn't  like  it.  He  was  getting  moody  and  hard   to  talk  to.  Whitney  had  told  him  to  go  for  a  walk  because  he  was  impossible  to  deal   with.  It  was  cloudy  when  he  went  for  a  walk  on  the  lonely  beach.       The  tourists  had  long  been  gone.  The  wind  was  cold  on  his  face  as  he  walked  the   beach  with  his  hands  deep  in  his  pockets.  The  seasons  changed  so  quickly  here,  he  

thought.  It  seemed  that  the  ocean  was  telling  them  all  that  playtime  was  over  and   they  should  all  go  home.  He  was  here  only  because  she  was  here.  He  would  stay  as   long  as  necessary.  Whitney  was  returning  to  the  city  that  day.       Frustrated  and  angry,  he  stood  looking  out  into  the  horizon  where  the  sea  meets  the   sky.  He  had  words  with  his  father  that  morning  too.  His  frustration  was  overflowing   into  every  other  part  of  his  life.       Karl  Stanton  was  checking  on  his  son's  obvious  oblivious  interest  in  the  family   business  for  the  last  half  part  of  the  year.  John  realized  he  had  said  things  he  had  not   meant.  He  didn't  like  hurting  people.  Not  intentionally  anyway.  And  he  knew  that  he   had  been  unusually  harsh  with  his  father.  He  was  unable  to  control  his  frustration   with  Isabelle.       He  turned  and  before  he  saw  her  he  knew  she  would  be  there.       He  looked  at  her  not  able  to  hide  his  emotions.  He  could  see  her  hunger  as  well.  He   slowly  took  her  in  his  arms  and  his  mouth  covered  hers.  She  leaned  into  him  and  her   arms  went  up  his  back  to  pull  him  towards  her.  Her  body  melted  into  his  perfectly.   And  her  lips  welcomed  his  with  an  abandonment  that  surprised  them  both.       "Let  me  go,  please,"  she  pleaded  as  she  pulled  away  from  him.       "Why?  You  want  me  as  much  as  I  want  you!"       "Help  me  John.  This  can't  be.  Please  help  me!"  She  begged  as  tears  rolled  down  her   face.  He  took  a  step  towards  her  and  she  backed  away  from  him.  Her  hands  pressed   at  his  chest  to  keep  him  at  a  distance.       "Nothing  in  this  world  could  make  me  leave,  don't  you  see  that  Isabelle?  Don't  be   frightened.  Give  me  a  chance  to  love  you."       "NO!"  She  yelled.  "No,  this  will  never  be."  She  walked  back  to  shore.  He  had  heard  a   finality  in  her  voice  that  had  kept  him  rooted  to  the  ground  and  unable  to  follow  her.       The  next  day  she  was  gone.       He  went  back  to  New  York.       ~~~~~~~~~~     He  poured  himself  into  his  work,  which  he  had  neglected.  He  felt  emptiness  and   lifelessness  in  every  aspect  of  his  life.  Life  had  lost  its  luster  for  him.  He  looked   around  him  and  all  he  saw  were  things.      

The  things  he  possessed.  The  things  he  bought.  Nothing  was  really  his.  No  one   belonged  to  him  and  he  belonged  to  no  one.  He  walked,  talked  and  life  went  on  but   he  didn't.  After  an  illness  or  a  death  people  got  better.  Sooner  or  later  they  got   better.  That  was  the  way  of  things.  People  got  better  but  he  didn't.       His  father  showed  up  unexpected  one  afternoon  in  his  office.       "I  thought  we  might  have  lunch  John,"  Karl  Stanton  said  to  his  son.       "Sorry  Dad,  but  I'm  swamped  with  work."  He  didn't  even  bother  to  look  up  from  the   papers  on  his  desk.       "John,  what  is  it  son?"  John's  head  popped  up  instantly.  "What's  tormenting  you?"   Karl  Stanton  asked  point  blank.       "Nothing  Dad,"  he  answered  all  too  quickly.       "I  might  be  able  to  help  you.  Do  you  think  I'm  blind?  Your  Mother  is  sick  with  worry   but  she  doesn't  dare  ask  for  fear  of  the  answer."       John  got  up  from  his  chair  and  stood  in  front  of  a  large  window  that  overlooked  the   city.  He  ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair  and  quite  suddenly  his  father  noticed  his   shoulders  droop  and  his  son  seemed  very  tired.  "I  love  a  woman  who  doesn't  want   me,"  he  confessed.       "Who  is  she?"       "You  don't  know  her,"  he  said  still  looking  out  the  window.  "There  isn't  really   anything  else  to  say."  John  walked  back  to  his  desk.       He  sat  back  down  and  started  working  on  the  papers  in  front  of  him  again.  The   curtain  rose  up  between  them  once  more.       "Sorry  Dad  perhaps  we  can  make  lunch  next  week.  I'm...really  quite  busy  with  this   right  now,"  he  said  very  business  like  and  Karl  Stanton  realized  that  he  had  been   dismissed.       He  loved  his  son.  He  had  been  a  son  to  be  proud  of.  John  was  thirty-­‐three  and  Karl   had  to  admit  he  had  wanted  his  son  to  fall  in  love  and  give  him  yet  another  heir  to   his  great  empire.  Women  had  always  flocked  to  him.  It  had  never  occurred  to  him   that  one  would  turn  him  down.  Now  none  of  the  reasons  he  had  wanted  John  to   marry  seemed  important.       All  he  saw  was  his  son  in  pain  and  he  was  helpless  to  stop  it.  Time  went  on  and   nothing  changed.  It  didn't  surprise  him  when  one  afternoon  John  simply  walked  out  

of  his  office  and  didn't  come  back.  He  had  left  his  father  a  brief  letter  saying  simply   that  he  had  to  find  her.       A  year  later  he  did.       ~~~~~~~~~~     He  had  followed  her  trail  from  the  Hamptons  to  California.  From  California  to   Venice,  Italy  and  from  there  to  Marbella  in  Spain.  That's  were  he  caught  up  with  her.       He  had  the  address  in  his  hands.  He  drove  to  the  address  and  very  slowly  walked  up   the  steps  of  the  house  overlooking  the  ocean.       It  occurred  to  him  that  they  had  always  been  together  near  an  ocean.  This  thought   filled  him  with  a  sense  of  peace.  He  knocked  on  the  door  and  when  it  opened  she   stood  in  front  of  him.       They  looked  into  each  other's  eyes  and  suddenly  there  was  no  past.  It  was  as  if  they   had  been  together  only  a  few  minutes  before.  She  showed  no  surprise  and  he   realized  that  it  was  like  he  had  been  expected.       "Isabelle,"  her  name  escaped  his  lips.  He  walked  past  her  into  the  house.  "Aren't  you   going  to  tell  me  how  nice  it  is  to  see  me  again?"  He  asked  unable  to  control  the   sarcasm  that  suddenly  filled  his  body.  He  turned  to  face  her.  "Why  did  you  run   away?"       "You  shouldn't  have  come,"  she  said  walking  a  distance  away  from  him  leaving  the   door  open  as  an  open  invitation  for  him  to  leave.       "I  love  you  and  as  crazy  as  this  may  sound  I  know  you  love  me,"  he  stated.  She   looked  at  him  in  surprise.       "You're  crazy.  I  don't  love  you.  I  barely  know  you,"  she  said  angrily  and  she  wrapped   her  arms  around  her  body  protectively.       "You  love  me,  Isabelle,"  he  said  it  again.       "I  can't  be  with  you.  I  have  tried  to  push  you  away.  Why  couldn't  you  just  let  it  go?"   She  blurted  out.       "What  is  it  Isabelle?  Don't  be  afraid,  trust  me.  Nothing  on  this  planet  could  make  me   not  love  you.  God  knows  I've  tried  to  forget  you  and  I  can't."       "You  don't  understand,  and  I  can't  explain.  Just  go  away."  She  pleaded  with  him  as   tears  rolled  down  her  eyes.      

"Why?  Tell  me  why!"  He  demanded  from  her.       Her  mouth  opened  and  closed  again.       "Nothing  that  you  can  say  to  me  will  make  me  stop  loving  you.  Tell  me  what  you're   afraid  of.  Let  me  prove  it  to  you,  Isabelle."       Frustration  showed  in  her  face.  "You  don't  know  what  it's  like...to  want  something   you  know  you  can't  ever  have.  I  don't  want  to  hurt  you.  I  have  never  wanted  to  hurt   anyone.  I  can  never  be  a  part  of  your  world."  Her  words  were  filled  with  anguish.       "Why?  Tell  me  why  Isabelle?"       "Because  I  don't  want  too!"  She  exclaimed.  He  just  stood  staring  at  her.  Her  eyes   closed  very  slowly.  And  when  she  opened  them  again  and  he  saw  her.       She  was  letting  him  see  deep  within  her.  He  stood  very  still.       "Please...please  let  me  have  this  peace,"  she  said  to  him  in  a  whisper.       He  stared  at  her  unable  to  understand  her  words  or  their  meaning.       "I  can't,"  was  his  answer.       "I  know  that  you  are  a  good  man  John."  She  tried  to  approach  him  with  reason  again.   "Whitney,  speaks  so  highly  of  you."       "Whit  and  I  have  been  friends  forever,"  he  stated  simply.       "Yes,  she  told  me."       "Isabelle,  I  can  handle  anything.  I  don't  care  who  you  are  or  what  you  might  have   done.  All  that  is  not  important.  I  have  seen  inside  you  and  that  is  what  I  love."       Tears  rolled  down  her  face  freely.  As  he  took  a  step  closer  she  put  her  hand  out  to   stop  his  progress.  She  turned  her  back  to  him.       "Remember  that  I  tried  to  push  you  away.  I  have  never  been  in  love  before.  I  didn't   even  have  a  chance  to  run  away,"  she  said  as  if  speaking  to  herself.  She  paused  and   then  continued.  "You  see,  I  do  love  you.  And  I'm  so  sorry.  I  never  wanted  to  hurt  you.   I'm  going  to  tell  you  everything  John  and  when  I'm  done,  I'll  turn  around  and  you   will  be  gone  and  I  won't  blame  you,"  she  said  with  a  resignation  of  a  loss  that  he   could  not  imagine.       "Nothing  that  you  can  say  will  make  me  leave  you.  Nothing,"  he  affirmed.  She  smiled   sadly  and  looked  away  from  him  as  she  spoke.    

  "My  father's  first  born  was  a  son,"  she  started.  "He  was  called  Isadore  after  my   grandfather.       "My  father  always  wanted  a  son.  Unfortunately,  Isadore  was  born  sickly.  Still  he   tried  to  teach  him  all  the  things  he  considered  important  for  his  only  son  to  know.   He  made  him  practice  the  sports  he  thought  his  only  son  should  be  in.  After  all,  he   was  a  great  athlete.  Isadore  preferred  to  read,  listen  to  music,  paint.  Father  never   could  understand  where  he  had  gone  wrong."  She  sighed       "His  son  was  a  disappointment,  you  see.  Not  that  father  would  say  anything  but  after   a  while  his  disapproval  began  to  show.  Isadore  didn't  like  sports,  he  was  quiet  and   reserved."       "Like  you,"  John  said  with  a  smile.       "Yes,  like  me."  Isabelle  smiled  back  sadly.  "He  was  nothing  like  my  father.  By  the   time  he  was  nine  his  'delicacy',  as  father  put  it,  had  become  an  embarrassment.  His   fatherly  devotion  gradually  became  something  ugly  and  twisted.  Isadore  looked  too   delicate  and  girlie,  my  father  would  say  to  him.  He  was  sent  off  to  school  when  he   was  ten."  She  stared  out  the  window  lost  in  her  memories  as  the  tears  rolled  down   her  cheeks.       John  looked  at  her  and  as  he  did  he  could  see  all  the  pain  that  the  telling  of  this  story   gave  her.       She  had  paused  for  a  moment  then  took  a  deep  breath  and  continued.  "He  was  made   to  disappear.  He  stayed  in  school  during  the  holidays  when  other  boys  went  home.   After  the  age  of  ten  Isadore  never  knew  what  a  family  was.  In  the  summer  he  was   sent  off  to  camp.  Mother  would  make  the  yearly  visit  of  course,  to  appease  her  guilt   of  letting  father  get  away  with  this.  But  of  course  she  never  fooled  Isadore.  Not  a  day   went  by  that  someone  didn't  beat  on  him  because  he  was  different  than  the  other   boys.  The  years  dragged  on  forever  for  him.  High  school  graduation  came  and  went   and  they  did  not  go.  He  was  the  valedictorian  in  high  school  and  in  college  and  still   they  never  went.  Fortunately  for  him,  grandfather  had  left  him  a  trust  fund.  Isadore   had  money  to  try  and  make  a  life  for  himself.  Father  had  cut  him  off  and  washed  his   hands  of  him.  He  wanted  nothing  to  do  with  a  fag  for  a  son."  She  covered  her  mouth   as  a  sob  rose  from  within  her.       "Isabelle,  I  would  never  judge...treat  anyone..."  she  interrupted  before  he  could   continue.       "Let  me  speak  John  because  if  you  interrupt  again  I  don't  know  if  I'll  have  the   courage."  He  remained  silent.      

"Isadore  went  to  change  his  life  with  the  money  grandfather  left  him.  It  took  many   years  for  him  to  reach  some  sort  of  peace  with  himself  and  his  body.  The  joke  is  that   he  didn't  change  much.  He  was  a  freak  of  nature.  He  had  always  looked  more  like  a   woman  than  a  man  and  after  many  years  of  therapy,  he  physically  and   psychologically  became  the  woman  he  had  always  been.  On  his  twenty  seventh   birthday  he  came  to  the  house  to  see  father.  He  was  led  to  the  library.  When  father   saw  him  he  froze.  They  argued  endlessly.  Isadore  became  suddenly  very  sad."   Isabelle  stopped  for  a  moment  then  continued.  "I  think  until  that  moment  he  had   hoped  to  make  some  kind  of  peace  with  father.  Even  after  all  that  father  had  done  to   him  he  still  loved  him,  you  see."       Isabelle  stared  out  of  the  window  then  continued  to  speak.  "I  think  he  finally   realized  that  he  would  always  be  alone  and  so  he  told  my  father  that  he  would  never   come  back  again.  That  he  would  never  have  to  see  him  again;  to  imagine  him  as   having  died.  The  only  thing  father  said  to  him  oddly  enough  was  'You're  just  like   your  mother'...he  was  walking  towards  the  door  when  father  called  to  him  again,   even  before  he  finished  turning  to  face  him  the  loud  sound  of  the  gun  shot  filled  the   room.  Mother  ran  into  the  room  and  was  shocked  into  action.  She  yelled  for  father  to   call  an  ambulance.  When  he  didn't  move  she  got  up  and  called  herself.  Isadore  was   covered  in  blood...and  father  just  stood  there..."       John  was  going  to  speak  then  waited  for  her  to  finish.       "It  being  a  gun  shot  the  police  were  called  by  the  hospital.  Isadore  told  them  it  had   been  an  accident."  She  finished,  directing  her  eyes  to  his  face.       "Did  he  die?"  John  asked  sympathetically.  She  nodded,  her  eyes  filled  with  tears  and   he  pulled  her  into  his  embrace.       She  left  his  arms  and  said,  "Yes,  Isadore  died  that  night."       She  pulled  away  from  him  and  placed  a  hand  on  a  chair  for  support.  He  placed  his   hand  over  hers.  She  looked  down  at  his  hand  on  hers  and  gently  pulled  hers  away.   She  walked  slowly  back  to  the  window  again.  Turning  very  slowly  she  started   unbuttoning  her  blouse.       His  breath  seemed  to  freeze  in  his  mouth.  He  didn't  understand  as  he  stared  at  her.   Her  eyes  were  blank.  He  could  see  her  lacy  bra  as  she  fully  opened  her  blouse.  He   saw  the  swell  of  her  breasts  and  his  breath  began  to  get  heavy.       She  lowered  the  strap  over  her  shoulder  and  a  scar  was  visible.  She  looked  down  at   her  breast  and  back  up  to  John's  eyes.  He  was  still  mesmerized  with  the  perfect   swell  of  her  breasts  before  he  saw  the  scar.       He  looked  at  the  scar  for  a  long  while  and  then  looked  back  up  to  her  eyes   questioning.    

  "That's  where  my  father  shot  me,"  she  said  simply  and,  not  looking  at  him,  she   replaced  the  strap  and  turned  away  from  him.       She  stood  very  still  and  a  few  moments  later  she  heard  the  sound  of  a  closing  door   as  she  had  expected.       ~~~~~~~~~~     She  covered  her  face  as  sobs  racked  her  body  and  she  dropped  to  the  floor  on  her   knees.  It  had  never  hurt  like  this.  The  pain  she  felt  within  would  surely  kill  her.       "Ohhhh..."  She  cried  with  such  anguish.       Quiet  suddenly  she  was  embraced  and  pulled  up  against  a  strong  chest.  She  pulled   away  in  shock  and  was  met  with  the  eyes  she'd  never  expected  to  behold  again.       She  just  stared  in  confusion.  He  was  there,  he  was  still  there.  She  couldn't  believe  it.   Rising  to  her  feet,  she  quickly  put  some  distance  between  them,  closing  her  blouse   to  cover  her  nakedness  from  him.  She  had  never  faced  this  fear  before.  This  was   new.  She  stared  in  apprehension.       "I  thought  you  had  gone,"  she  finally  spoke.       "No,  I'm  still  here,"  he  said  running  his  fingers  through  his  hair.  She  realized  that  his   actions  had  surprised  him  as  well.  At  that  moment  he  looked  directly  into  her  eyes.       "All  I  know  is  that  I  can't  walk  away  from  you."  He  let  out  a  small  nervous  laugh  and   looked  back  into  her  eyes,  very  seriously.  "The  first  moment  I  saw  you  I  wanted  you   so  bad.  I  spent  three  months  looking  for  you,  going  to  every  Godforsaken  party  I   could.  That  night  I  saw  you  walking  out  onto  the  balcony  I  had  just  about  given  up.  I   felt  foolish  and  ridiculous.  And  for  a  self-­‐absorbed  arrogant  man  like  me,  that's  quite   a  lot  I  assure  you."  he  said,  smiling  nervously.       She  listened  and  he  continued.  Both  only  a  few  feet  away  from  each  other  and   unable  to  move.  They  both  realized  that  the  next  few  minutes  would  change  their   lives  forever.  "You  were  more  than  I  expected.  So  much  more  beautiful  up  close.   Intelligent,  sensitive,  but  sad...so  very  sad.  You  wore  your  sadness  like  you  deserved   it.  I  agreed  not  to  pursue  you.  So  that  I  could  pursue  you..."  he  laughed  softly.       She  was  listening  in  silence  and  before  he  continued  he  became  very  serious  too.  "I   pursued  you.  I  confess,  it  was  only  lust  that  drove  me  on  in  the  beginning.  That's   what  I  told  myself.  And  then  one  afternoon  Whitney  said  it  so  simply.  She  just  said  it   matter  of  factly.  'You  love  her!'  And  I  realized  that  it  had  been  true  from  the   beginning.  That  afternoon  at  the  beach  I  knew  you  loved  me  too.  I  knew  you  needed   time  but  when  I  found  out  that  you  had  gone...I  went  half  out  of  my  mind;  went  back  

to  New  York  pretended  that  I  could  just  go  on  without  you.  Then  one  afternoon  I  just   walked  out  of  a  board  meeting  and  never  went  back.  I  started  to  search  for  you."  He   looked  at  her.  They  stood  frozen  in  each  others  eyes.       "I  can't  walk  away  Isabelle.  All  I  know  is  that  I  love  you.  After  all  that  you  have  told   me,  that  is  still  true...I  love  you,  Isabelle."  Tears  started  rolling  down  her  face  and  he   was  the  one  that  walked  towards  her  slowly.       She  was  frightened.  Acceptance  was  a  fragile  thing  to  her.  When  he  stood  in  front  of   her  he  reached  out  for  her  and  pulled  her  into  his  embrace  gently.       Quite  suddenly  she  let  out  a  sob  and  clung  to  him.  He  held  her  against  him  tightly   then.  She  was  so  frail  that  he  was  afraid  that  with  one  more  blow  she  would  brake   and  an  overwhelming  desire  to  protect  her  filled  him  once  more.       All  she  had  ever  known  in  her  life  was  pain.  He  would  fill  her  world  with  love.  He   was  gentle  and  moved  slowly.  He  turned  her  chin  up  gently  and  lightly  kissed  her   lips.  He  stroked  her  hair  and  caressed  her  face.  She  just  stared  into  the  face  of   something  she  had  never  known.  Acceptance.  His  lips  found  hers  again.  This  time  his   mouth  coaxed  a  response  from  her.       He  looked  into  her  eyes  and  took  her  hands  and  put  them  around  his  neck  as  he   pulled  her  closer  to  him.  She  was  frightened.  "I  have  never  been  with  anyone.  I  am  a   woman  in  every  sense  of  the  word  but...I  have  never  been  with  anyone."       "I'm  glad  to  be  the  first,"  he  said  as  his  lips  found  hers.  She  pushed  him  away  from   her  and  held  him  at  bay  with  her  hands  on  his  chest.       "John  I'm  afraid,"  she  said  unable  to  look  into  his  eyes.       "Do  you  love  me?"  He  asked  her  a  simple  question.       She  looked  up  and  said,  "Yes,  oh  yes."       "Then  trust  that  I  love  you  Isabelle,"  he  said  and  proceeded  to  remove  her  blouse.   "Unbutton  my  shirt,"  he  told  her.       Her  hands  were  shaking  as  she  unbuttoned  his  shirt.  He  took  off  his  shirt  and  stood   in  front  of  her  for  a  moment,  then  reached  for  the  clip  in  her  bra  and  unsnapped  it.   He  removed  it  and  her  breasts  rose  as  her  breathing  became  strained.  He  removed   her  slacks  and  silk  panties.       His  eyes  caressed  her  nakedness  and  her  body  felt  as  if  it  would  go  up  on  fire  and   still  he  had  not  touched  her.      

He  suddenly  picked  her  up  off  the  ground  and  in  a  passion  filled  voice  asked,  "Where   is  your  bedroom?"  She  pointed  up  the  stairs  and  he  took  two  steps  at  a  time.       He  stood  in  front  of  her  bed  and  gently  put  her  down  on  the  floor.  "Unbuckle  my  belt   Isabelle,"  he  said  to  her.       She  stood  frozen  with  fear.       "You  have  to  want  me  as  much  as  I  want  you.  Trust  your  feelings  Isabelle,"  he  said  to   her.       Her  hands  clumsily  undid  his  belt.  Her  breathing  became  erratic.  He  grabbed  her  by   the  arms  so  she  would  not  run  away.       "Don't  push  me  away  Isabelle.  I  want  you  so  much.  I'll  take  off  the  rest  of  my  clothes   myself."  He  removed  what  remained  of  his  clothing.       He  reached  out  for  her  and  slowly  pulled  her  towards  him.  He  found  it  hard  to  inhale   as  her  naked  body  pressed  against  him.  Her  lips  went  up  to  meet  his.       He  was  trying  to  control  his  need  for  her.  He  had  to  be  gentle.  His  hands  caressed   her  body  and  he  could  feel  the  surrender  in  her  kisses.       He  stroked  her  breasts  and  his  thumb  teased  her  hardened  nipples  until  a  groan  of   pleasure  escaped  her  lips.  He  leaned  forward  and  slowly  they  fell  onto  the  bed.  He   lay  above  her  kissing  her  mouth  as  his  hands  stroked  her  body.       He  quickly  sat  up  and  brought  her  up  with  him.  He  held  her  thighs  and  slowly  pulled   her  towards  him  until  she  was  sitting  on  his  legs,  straddling  him.  Slowly  he  would   make  her  his.       He  pressed  her  breasts  against  him,  and  his  kisses  excited  her  once  more.  Before  she   realized  he  was  lying  on  top  of  her  again  but  this  time  her  legs  were  open  to  him.  He   slowly  introduced  himself  inside  her.  Her  eyes  flew  open  as  he  first  entered  her.  His   mouth  covered  hers  and  her  protests  died  there.       He  was  gentle  as  he  introduced  her  to  the  ways  of  love.  And  after  he  had  pleasured   her  he  allowed  himself  to  come  inside  her.  She  was  his.       He  held  her  tightly  through  the  night.  Holding  her  very  close,  the  last  thought  he  had   before  sleep  overtook  him  was  that  she  was  finally  his  and  he  would  never  let  her   go.       ~~~~~~~~~~    

Daylight  hitting  his  face  woke  him.  He  looked  around  and  in  his  arms  was  a  sleeping   Isabelle.  He  smiled  to  himself  and  with  the  back  of  his  finger  caressed  her  dormant   face.       Her  eyes  slowly  opened.  His  lips  kissed  hers  lightly.  She  looked  into  his  eyes   searching.  He  pulled  her  close  to  him  to  reassure  her.       "John?"  He  did  not  let  her  continue.  His  lips  sought  hers  and  this  time  he  rode  the   wave  of  his  passion.  She  responded  to  his  need  of  her  with  passion  of  her  own.  They   made  love  until  both  hungers  were  satiated.       The  noon  sun  shone  through  the  window  and  John  lay  next  to  Isabelle  holding  her   close  to  him.  "Where  do  we  go  from  here?"  She  asked.       "To  happily  ever  after,"  he  said  and  kissed  her.  She  sat  up  pulling  the  sheet  up  with   her.       He  sat  up  next  to  her.  He  put  his  arms  around  her  and  her  head  slowly  came  to  rest   on  his  shoulder.       "Woman  you  better  have  some  food  in  this  house  because  if  you  don't  I'm  going  to   have  to  satisfy  my  hunger  with  you  again,"  he  said  to  her  laughing.  She  lifted  her   head  and  looked  into  his  smiling  face.  She  smiled  back.       "How  about  an  omelet?"       He  rolled  out  of  bed.  "Coffee!  I'd  love  some  coffee..."  He  stood  before  her  naked.  She   looked  away.       "Darling,  you  know  every  part  of  me  don't  look  away,"  he  said  to  her  gently.       She  looked  at  him  and  he  smiled.  She  got  up  and  walked  towards  him.       "You  are  the  most  beautiful  woman  I've  ever  seen.  I'm  a  lucky  man,"  he  said  proudly.       She  stood  in  front  of  him  silently  and  smiled.       "Now  let's  get  me  fed.  I'm  starving."  He  bent  down  and  started  grabbing  his  trousers.       She  went  and  put  a  silk  robe  on.  They  both  went  downstairs  together  to  make   breakfast.       ~~~~~~~~~~    

They  played  tourists  and  ran  around  like  two  children  in  a  candy  shop.  One   afternoon  they  went  to  see  the  city  of  Malaga.  Isabelle  wanted  to  see  some  Arab   fortresses  there.       "Okay,  you  obviously  know  something  about  where  we  are  going  so  do  tell,"  he   joked  with  her.       "Well,  okay,  I'll  be  the  tour  guide,"  she  laughed.  "Here  in  Malaga,  standing  at  the  top   of  Gilbralfaro,  is  the  Alcazabe."  She  was  looking  at  a  guidebook  as  she  spoke.       "What  is  a  Gilbralfaro  and  a  Alcazabe?"       She  looked  at  him  with  a  humorous  smile.  "Sorry...  Gilbralfaro  is  a  hill  overlooking   the  bay  and  the  Alcazabe  is  a  Arab  fortress  constructed  during  the  8th  and  9th   century.  There  is  also  a  cathedral  which  was  built  in  1528."       "Well,  I  can  see  I  don't  have  any  problems.  I  have  a  great  tour  guide."  He  was  smiling   at  her.       "This  city  has  a  long  history..."  She  stopped  when  she  saw  him  smiling  at  her.  "What?   Why  are  you  looking  at  me  like  that?"  She  asked  sweetly.       "You're  beautiful....  Not  only  that,  but  brilliant  too."       "Flattery  will  get  you  everywhere,"  she  joked  in  return.  They  kept  walking  and   laughing.  "Oh,  the  artist  Pablo  Picasso  was  born  here  too."       "Is  that  the  type  of  art  that  you  like?"  He  asked,  remembering  her  comments  about   liking  to  paint.       "Well,  I  like  his  early  works,  the  latter  work  I'm  not  too  crazy  about."       The  rest  of  the  day  was  spent  simply  sharing  each  other's  company  and  the  scenery.   They  started  back  to  Marbella  as  it  began  to  get  dark.       "Tired?"  He  asked  as  they  walked  back  to  the  car.       "Yes,  but  happy,"  she  answered  him  with  a  smile.  Day  after  day  they  found  new   treasures  that  they  made  their  own.       Another  day  they  went  to  Granada  to  see  the  Alhambra  Palace,  the  greatest  Moorish   monument  in  Spain  built  around  the  13th  century.  Its  beauty  overwhelmed  Isabelle.       Occasionally,  they  would  spend  the  night  in  these  cities.  But  the  city  they  both  liked   best  was  Sevilla  with  its  winding  streets,  Moorish  architecture  and  large  houses   with  courtyards  filled  with  flowers  and  fountains.    

  One  day  we  will  come  back  and  live  here,  John  thought  to  himself.       They  walked  through  the  city  holding  hands,  stealing  kisses  from  one  another,   overwhelmed  by  the  beauty  of  the  city  long  gone  by.       The  next  few  weeks  were  the  happiest  Isabelle  had  ever  known.  John  had  been  as   good  as  his  word.  He  had  made  her  happy.  He  was  the  most  remarkable  man  she   had  ever  met.  She  found  herself  really  and  truly  in  love.       They  spent  the  mornings  exploring  different  and  interesting  places  in  beautiful   Marbella.  Their  afternoons  were  spent  under  the  glorious  sun  in  the  beach  and  the   nights...the  nights  were  spent  making  love.       He  had  taught  her  to  give  herself  completely  to  him.  She  gave  him  her  passion  and   revelled  in  it.  She  was  truly  happy.  There  was  nothing  she  would  have  denied  him.   He  had  slowly  become  her  life.       One  afternoon  as  they  walked  in  the  phone  was  ringing.  Isabelle  picked  it  up.  Her   face  immediately  sobered.  She  handed  the  receiver  to  John.  He  took  it  and  followed   her  movements  with  concern  in  his  eyes.       "John  this  is  your  father,"  he  heard  coming  from  the  receiver.       "Dad,  how  did  you  get  this  number?"       "You  checked  into  the  office."       "What  is  it  Dad?"       "What  is  it?  Did  you  think  we  might  want  to  hear  from  you  more  than  two  or  three   times  this  past  year?"       "I'm  sorry  if  I  worried  you  and  Mother,"  John  apologized.  He  realized  that  he  should   have  called  them,  they  were  his  parents.  They  loved  him  and  were  worried  for  him.       "The  girl  that  answered,  is  that  her  John?"  His  father  asked  with  obvious  concern  in   his  voice.       "Yes,  Dad.  Her  name  is  Isabelle.  I'm  trying  to  convince  her  to  marry  me,"  he  said   looking  at  Isabelle.       She  turned  to  face  him  in  obvious  surprise.      

"I  just  proposed  to  her  Dad,  with  you  on  the  line.  She  looks  like  she's  in  shock.  I   better  hang  up  and  kiss  her  before  she  says  no."  He  couldn't  stop  the  smile  on  his   face.       "Good  luck  son,  call  us  soon,"  and  with  that,  he  hung  up.  John  replaced  the  receiver   and  walked  over  to  Isabelle  very  slowly.  She  just  stared  not  believing  what  she  had   heard.       "Marry  me?"  He  asked  now  standing  in  front  of  her.  She  said  nothing  so  he  asked   again.  "Marry  me?"       She  was  about  to  say  something  when  he  placed  his  finger  on  her  mouth.  "I'll  only   accept  a  yes."  He  took  her  in  his  arms  and  kissed  her  passionately.  Her  arms  went  up   around  his  neck.       He  spoke  with  his  lips  brushing  hers.  "Say  yes....say  yes."  He  kissed  her  again  and   again.       She  would  have  agreed  to  anything  and  the  word  came  easily  from  her  lips.  "Yes."       He  picked  her  up  and  whirled  her  around  the  room.  They  both  laughed  heartily.       ~~~~~~~~~~     Two  weeks  later  they  were  on  a  plane  to  New  York.  They  had  been  married  in  Spain.   Isabelle  was  happier  than  she  had  ever  been  in  her  life.  But  with  all  this  happiness   she  found  herself  not  able  to  shake  off  a  sense  of  dread.  John  put  his  hand  over  hers   and  leaned  over  to  kiss  her.       "What  is  it,  darling?"       "I'm  afraid  John,"  she  said  to  him  as  her  eyes  sought  his.       "Nothing  to  be  afraid  of,"  he  said,squeezing  her  hand.  "My  parents  are  rather  nice   people,"  he  kidded  her.  "My  friends  are  not  that  bad  either."  Even  as  he  finished   saying  that  she  got  visibly  upset.       "I  should  never  have  married  you,"  she  said  near  to  tears.       "Isabelle..."  he  started  to  say,  but  she  turned  her  face  away.       "Okay,  no  friends,  just  you  and  me."  He  spoke  gently  to  her.  She  turned  to  him  with   tear  filled  eyes.  "Nothing...I  need  nothing  but  you."  And  he  kissed  her  lightly       "John..."  she  was  about  to  say  something  else  but  he  interrupted  before  she  could   speak.    

  "Don't  you  know  that  you  are  my  love  and  that  you  are  my  life.  Without  you  there  is   nothing."  He  kissed  her  and  that  was  the  end  of  that.       ~~~~~~~~~~     Karl  and  Vanessa  Stanton  met  them  in  the  First  Class  terminal  of  Iberia  Airlines  at   Kennedy  Airport.  Almost  as  soon  as  she  saw  them  she  knew  this  wasn't  going  to  be   easy.  Karl  quickly  walked  up  to  meet  them.  He  hugged  John  and  turned  to  her  with  a   smile.       "You  must  be  Isabelle,"  he  said,  kissing  her  on  the  cheek.  She  smiled  nervously   holding  on  to  John's  hand.       Vanessa  Stanton  however  approached  them  quite  differently.  She  was  clearly  upset.   John  took  a  step  forward  to  head  her  off.  Karl  noticed  John's  defensive  attitude   towards  Isabelle  instantly  and  cut  off  his  wife.       "Vanessa,  my  dear  this  is  our  Isabelle.  We  finally  get  to  meet  the  woman  that  our  son   went  half  way  around  the  world  to  find."  He  was  charming  but  his  wife  knew  that  he   was  letting  her  know  how  important  this  woman  was  to  her  son.       Vanessa  Stanton  knew  when  to  pick  her  fights  and  when  to  wait  for  the  right   moment  and  this  clearly  was  not  a  good  time  to  voice  her  disapproval.  She  hugged   her  son  and  turned  to  Isabelle  with  a  frosty  smile.       "I'm  glad  to  meet  you  Isabelle,"  she  managed  to  say  politely.  John  was  not  fooled  and   at  that  moment  a  line  was  drawn  between  him  and  his  mother.       "It's  my  pleasure  Mrs.  Stanton,"  Isabelle  answered  politely.       "You  are  definitely  quite  beautiful."  This  was  said  in  a  very  matter  of  fact  tone.       "Thank  you."       "Mercer...I'm  not  familiar  with  the  name.  Is  your  family  from  abroad?"  asked   Vanessa.       "You  don't  know  her  family,  mother,"  interrupted  John.       "I  see.  Well,  where  are  you  from  my  dear?  From  what  I  hear  you  seem  to  be  all  over   the  world  but  in  no  particular  place."  Vanessa  Stanton's  sarcasam  was  obvious.       John  was  about  to  say  something  when  Isabelle  jumped  in.  She  did  not  want  to  be   the  cause  of  a  rift  between  mother  and  son.      

"I  never  had  someone  who  was  important  enough  to  me  to  build  a  home  with."  As   she  spoke  she  looked  at  John.  He  rewarded  her  with  a  big  smile.       Vanessa  saw  her  son's  face.  He  was  happy.  At  that  moment  she  chose  caution.  After   all,  there  would  be  plenty  of  time  to  find  out  about  the  woman  her  son  had  chosen  to   marry.       "Mother,  it  was  a  long  flight  and  we're  very  tired.  Why  don't  we  get  together  for   dinner  tomorrow?"  John  spoke  to  his  mother  in  a  stern  voice.       Vanessa  Stanton  realized  that  this  fight  might  cost  her  son,  so  she  withdrew.  "Yes,  of   course,  you  must  both  be  exhausted.  Tomorrow  will  be  soon  enough.  We'll  get  to   know  each  other  then."  She  replied  to  his  statement,  but  directed  her  comments  to   Isabelle.       "Mother!"  John  got  immediately  defensive.       "Vanessa,  we  should  let  them  go  home."  Karl  jumped  in  to  avert  a  confrontation.       "John,  darling,  let's  go  home,"  said  Isabelle  softly  putting  her  arm  through  his.  He   looked  down  and  smiled  at  her  as  his  hand  covered  hers.  He  liked  the  sound  of  that.       "Yes,  let's  go  home,"  he  said  to  his  wife.       "It  was  nice  meeting  you  both.  I  love  John  very  much.  All  I  want  to  do  is  make  him   happy."  John  smiled  at  his  wife's  words.  It  was  the  first  he  felt  her  inner  strength.     "Welcome  to  the  family  my  dear,"  Karl  told  her  with  genuine  gladness.       "Well,  we'll  see  you  tomorrow  then."  John  put  his  arm  around  Isabelle's  waist   possessively.  "Good-­‐bye  Mother,"  he  said  as  they  walked  away.       Vanessa  was  going  to  say  something  until  she  felt  her  husband's  hand  on  her  arm.   They  both  watched  silently  as  John  and  Isabelle  walked  away.       "What  did  you  think  you  were  doing?"  Karl  Stanton  asked  his  wife,  facing  her.       "Trying  to  find  out  who  our  son  married."       "Vanessa,  this  one  is  different...  tread  lightly,"  he  warned.       Vanessa  looked  at  her  husband  and  back  at  John  and  Isabelle.       "Give  her  a  chance  Vanessa,  don't  fight  John  on  this,  you  won't  win."       ~~~~~~~~~~  

  Two  hours  later  a  limousine  pulled  up  in  front  of  one  of  the  most  prestigious   neighborhoods  in  Central  Park  South.  It  was  too  close  to  home  for  Isabelle  but,  this   was  John's  home  and  she  promised  herself  she  would  try.       The  house  was  beautiful,  as  were  most  of  the  brownstones  in  the  area.  They  were   filled  with  large  rooms  with  mahogany  panels  and  guilded  frames.  This  was  home  or   at  least  she  would  try  to  make  it  her  home.       "Change  whatever  you  like  Isabelle,  I  want  this  to  be  our  home,"  John  said  as  he  took   her  into  his  arms.  He  picked  her  up  and  carried  her  up  the  stairs.       ~~~~~~~~~~     John  slept  on  the  bed  as  she  stood  by  the  window  looking  out  onto  the  moonlit   street.  New  York.  She  had  never  wanted  to  come  back  here  again.  She  should  never   have  agreed  to  come  back  here  with  John.  But,  he  had  wanted  to  make  her  part  of  his   life.  And  his  life  was  here.       She  thought  that  when  she  agreed  to  come  here  that  everything  somehow  would   work  itself  out.  She  had  been  naive.  John  had  been  a  mistake.  She  should  never  have   married  him.  All  this  someday  would  cause  him  pain  and  shame.  If  anyone  were  to   find  out  he  would  be  ostracized  from  his  world  and  perhaps  his  family.       She  hadn't  thought  any  of  this  through.  All  she  had  seen  was  the  happiness  that  he   offered.  She  loved  him  more  than  life  itself,  and  she  hadn't  allowed  herself  to  think.   Now  she  realized  she  should  have  thought  of  him,  of  his  life,  of  his  family  and  of  his   future.       How  had  this  gotten  so  crazy?  All  she  had  ever  wanted  she  had  with  him.  Why  was  it   such  a  crime  to  want  a  life  like  anybody  else's?  Her  whole  life  had  been  a  lie.  Her   whole  existence  had  been  an  abomination,  just  as  her  father  had  said.       She  should  have  let  him  go.  Every  day  she  prayed  for  one  more  day  with  him.   Because,  every  day  was  borrowed  time.  She  felt  her  body  weaken  and  yet  her  spirit   had  been  so  filled.       John  had  brought  her  joy.  If  only  for  a  little  while.  She  would  never  have  known   happiness  if  not  for  him.  Her  life  had  been  lonely  and  bleak,  but  with  him  came   warmth  and  the  light  of  day.       She  prayed  to  the  God  of  her  childhood.  The  one  that  her  father  had  said  did  not  love   her  because  of  what  she  was.  But  hope  is  what  had  sustained  her  her  whole  life.  She   hoped  that  God  had  not  forgotten  her  and  that  he  would  grant  her  a  few  more   moments  and  then  take  her  away  when  the  right  time  came.      

She  walked  back  to  their  bed  and  saw  the  light  of  the  moon  reflect  on  John's  face.   Was  it  wrong  to  love  him?  She  got  into  bed  and  her  body  sought  his  embrace.       She  slept  badly  and  when  she  woke  John  was  not  next  to  her.  She  looked  around,   dazed  with  the  lack  of  sleep  and  then  she  heard  the  sound  of  the  shower.       She  looked  at  her  watch  on  the  nightstand.  It  was  already  9  am.  She  was  normally  an   early  riser,  always  waking  before  John.  But,  lately  it  had  become  harder  to  get  up  in   the  mornings.  Her  sleep  had  become  heavier.  Taking  a  deep  breath  she  got  out  of   bed.       When  John  came  out  of  the  shower  she  was  sitting  in  front  of  the  dressing  table   brushing  her  hair.  He  walked  over  to  her  and  kissed  the  side  of  her  face  from  behind.   She  could  see  a  smile  on  his  face  from  the  mirror  in  front  of  her.       "Good  morning  darling,"  he  said  cheerfully.       "Good  morning  to  you  too."       He  walked  over  to  his  dressing  room.  From  inside  she  heard  him  ask.  "What  would   you  like  to  do  today?"       She  stopped  brushing  her  hair,  surprised.  "I  thought  you  would  be  going  into  the   office  today."       He  came  back  into  the  room  holding  some  trousers.  "On  our  first  day  home?  No,  not   for  a  few  days.  The  most  important  thing  is  to  make  you  glad  that  you  came."  He   walked  back  to  his  dressing  room.       She  turned  around  on  her  chair.  "What  do  you  mean?"       "Isabelle,  I  know  you  remember.  You  can't  fool  me,  darling.  I  know  you  didn't  want   to  come  back  to  the  States."       After  a  few  moments  of  silence  he  came  out  of  the  dressing  room  fully  clothed.  "Is   your  family  from  New  York?"  He  asked  point  blank.       She  turned  her  back  to  him.  This  was  going  to  be  impossible.  "This  isn't  going  to   work  John.  In  Spain  we  had  no  baggage.  I  don't  know  if  I  can  do  this."  She  was   unable  to  control  her  nervousness.       "Do  I  know  them?"  He  was  able  to  see  right  through  her.       "How  would  I  know?  I  can't  talk  about  this!"  She  was  getting  agitated.  Standing  up,   she  paced  nervously.      

He  walked  over  to  her  and  held  her  in  place.  "We  will  face  whatever  comes  Isabelle,"   he  said  looking  into  her  eyes.  She  shook  her  head  and  pulled  away  from  him,  going   to  stand  in  front  of  the  window.       Looking  out  onto  the  street  she  said  "  I  hate  this  city.  I'm  always  afraid  here."  At  that   moment  he  realized  that  this  was  the  past  she  left  behind.       He  stood  behind  her  and  pulled  her  to  him  until  her  body  was  leaning  against  his.   "Okay  darling,  let  me  wrap  a  few  things  up  and  we  will  go  live  were  ever  you  want."   He  spoke  into  her  hair.  She  turned  around  quickly  to  face  him.       "You  mean  it?"  She  asked  unable  to  contain  her  excitement.       "Yes,  I  do,"  he  said  to  her.  "Just  a  few  weeks,  then  we  can  live  anywhere  in  the  world   you  want."  She  went  into  his  arms  and  breathed  in  a  sigh  of  relief.       ~~~~~~~~~~     Whitney  came  to  call  that  afternoon  with  John's  mother.       "I'm  sorry  about  having  to  cancel  dinner  tonight,  my  dear,  but  Karl  had  an  urgent   business  matter  to  attend  to.  I  can't  say  I'm  disappointed,"  said  Vanessa  Stanton.       "Mother!"  John  exclaimed.       "So  that  I  can  give  you  a  proper  dinner,"  she  told  her  son.  He  was  about  to  say   something  when  she  spoke  again.  "I  will  give  a  dinner  to  introduce  Isabelle  to  our   closest  friends."       "Isabelle  and  I  want  some  privacy  for  awhile,  after  all,  we  are  still  newlyweds,"  John   reminded  her.       Whitney  sat  silently  observing  Isabelle's  silence  and  growing  nervousness.  She   placed  her  hand  over  the  other  woman's  and  gave  her  an  encouraging  squeeze.   Whitney  knew  that  Vanessa  Stanton  could  be  extremely  hard  to  take  at  times.       Isabelle  looked  into  Whitney's  eyes  and  realized  she  had  an  ally.  Whitney  then   joined  the  conversation.  "Perhaps  we  should  wait  awhile  longer,  Vanessa.  When   you're  in  love  crowds  are  a  bore."       "No,  nonsense,  I've  already  called  some  friends."       "Then  cancel!"  Stated  John  in  irritation.  Mother  and  son  were  at  a  standoff.       "John,  perhaps  we  can..."  started  saying  Isabelle.      

"No  Isabelle!"  John  looked  as  his  mother  as  he  spoke.  "Why  are  we  going  to  have  a   dinner  party  when  you  and  I  don't  want  one?  Mother  is  going  to  have  to  learn  that   she  can't  always  have  her  way."       Vanessa  stood  up,  furious.  "Well  perhaps  if  you  hadn't  gone  off  and  married  who  the   hell  knows  whom  I  wouldn't  have  to  do  this!"  She  spat  out  at  him.  John  jumped  to   his  feet  and  Isabelle  rose  and  held  on  to  his  arm.       "John  please,"  she  said  softly.       "Her  name  is  Isabelle.  Get  use  to  it!"  John  yelled  at  his  mother.       Whitney  got  up  and  stood  next  to  Vanessa.  "Vanessa,  please  let  this  go,"  she  said   nervously.       "He  thinks  he  can  just  abandon  everything  and  everyone  for  over  a  year,  chasing   after  some  woman  that  no  one  seems  to  know  anything  about!"       "Get  out  mother!  Get  out  now!"  John  hissed  menacingly  under  his  breath.       "Vanessa  please!"  Whitney  said,  taking  hold  of  Vanessa's  arm.       "Who  doesn't  want  this  dinner  her  or  you?  Are  you  ashamed  of  the  choice  you've   made  for  a  wife-­‐-­‐"  Before  she  finished  speaking,  John  grabbed  her  by  the  arm  and   physically  hauled  her  to  the  door.  The  world  suddenly  started  to  spin  and  for   Isabelle  it  all  got  dark.       ~~~~~~~~~~     She  woke  up  in  her  bedroom  with  a  very  concerned  face  hovering  over  her.  "My   God,  you're  awake.  I've  been  going  out  of  my  mind.  The  doctor  is  on  his  way.  I   couldn't  wake  you."  John  was  rambling  nervously.       "I'm  all  right.  What  happened?"  She  felt  a  little  disoriented.       "My  mother."  He  reminded  her.       "Oh  yes,  did  I  pass  out?"       "You  just  suddenly  fainted.  I've  never  been  more  scared  in  my  life,"  he  said  to  her   still  very  upset.       "I'm  all  right,  it's  just  the  excitement  of  the  past  few  days  that's  all,"  she  responded   gently.       "I  still  want  the  doctor  to  see  you,"  he  told  her.    

  "No  need,  I'm  fine,"  she  said  as  her  hand  went  to  caress  his  face.  He  pulled  her  into   his  embrace.       "I  love  you  Isabelle,"  he  said  holding  her  tightly.       "I  know."  His  mouth  sought  hers.  Isabelle  gave  herself  completely  to  her  passion  for   John.  She  would  love  him  for  as  long  as  she  could.       ~~~~~~~~~~     It  had  been  over  a  week  since  the  incident  with  John's  mother.  His  father  had  come   by  to  smooth  things  over  but  to  no  avail.  John  knew  that  the  ice  he  was  on  was  thin   and  it  seemed  to  be  getting  thinner  the  longer  they  stayed  in  New  York.       Karl  hadn't  taken  the  news  of  his  leaving  the  States  very  well.  But  John  saw  no  other   way.  Isabelle  was  trying  hard  to  hide  her  growing  apprehension.  It  was  taking  its   toll.       He  knew  she  wasn't  sleeping  well,  although  she  never  said  anything.  And  when  she   did  sleep  it  was  not  quite  right  in  his  mind.  It  had  become  hard  to  wake  her  at  times   and  it  scared  him.  Occasionally,  he  would  catch  her  daydreaming  of  things  far  away.       He  was  losing  her.  He  could  feel  it,  but  he  couldn't  let  that  happen.  They  had  to  leave   and  as  quickly  as  possible.  Something  was  wrong,  but  he  just  couldn't  figure  out   what.  He  would  wrap  things  up  as  quickly  as  possible.  He  owed  his  father  at  least   that  much.       Unfortunately,  in  order  to  close  everything  up  he  had  to  put  in  long  hours  in  the   office  and  it  always  worried  him  to  leave  her  alone  too  long.  When  he  would  arrive   home  and  find  her  there  he  could  breath  easier  again.  Every  night  he  would  make   love  to  her  to  reassure  him  self  that  she  was  still  his.  He  needed  her  like  the  very  air   he  breathed.       ~~~~~~~~~~     Two  weeks  later  Vanessa  Stanton  called  on  Isabelle.  When  Phillip,  the  butler,  told   her  that  Vanessa  Stanton  was  downstairs  in  the  sitting  room  she  was  taken  aback.   She  hesitated  for  an  instant  and  then  went  downstairs.       Isabelle  could  feel  her  pulse  speeding  up.  She  took  a  deep  breath  before  she  turned   the  door  handle.  Walking  inside  the  sitting  room  she  came  face  to  face  with  John's   mother.  Vanessa  Stanton  spoke  first.       "I  believe  I  owe  you  an  apology,"  she  said  right  off  the  bat.      

"Mrs.  Stanton..."  Isabelle  was  unable  to  continue.       "Please!  I  behaved  very  badly."       Isabelle  walked  over  to  her,  pointed  for  her  to  sit  down,  and  then  sat  across  from   her.       "Isabelle,  I  didn't  give  you  a  chance,"  Vanessa  said  looking  rather  embarrassed.       "Mrs.  Stanton,  I  understand  you  want  the  best  for  John..."       "Isabelle,  you  are  the  best  for  John.  He  loves  you!"       "Mrs.  Stanton...."  Isabelle  tried  again  before  she  was  interupted.       "Vanessa.......please  call  me  Vanessa."       Isabelle  looked  at  her  for  a  moment  before  she  continued.  "Vanessa,  I  love  John   more  than  anything  in  this  world.  I  don't  want  my  loving  him  ever  to  hurt  him."       "Well,  then  this  is  were  we  meet,  Isabelle,"  said  Vanessa  Stanton  with  a  smile,   recieving  one  in  return.     ~~~~~~~~~~     Vanessa  also  visited  her  son  that  day.  When  she  told  him  she  had  called  on  Isabelle,   he  immediately  left  her  in  mid  sentence  and  picked  up  the  telephone.  After  Isabelle   had  reassured  him  that  all  was  well  he  continued  his  conversation  with  his  mother.       He  had  to  confess  that  he  was  glad  that  she  had  come  around.  She  was  a  difficult   woman  at  times  to  deal  with  but  she  loved  him  and  he  knew  that.  It  would  have  hurt   him  to  leave  things  as  they  had  been  between  them.  Mother  and  son  made  a  fragile   peace.       ~~~~~~~~~~     In  two  weeks  or  so  they  would  be  leaving  New  York.  He  could  see  the  light  at  the   end  of  the  tunnel  and  he  breathed  more  easily.  He  was  going  to  be  happy  with   Isabelle.  He  knew  that  after  leaving  the  States  all  would  be  well  with  Isabelle  again.   Only  two  more  weeks,  that's  all  he  had  to  hang  on  for,  just  two  more  weeks  and  all   would  be  well  again.       ~~~~~~~~~~     Vanessa  and  Karl  Stanton  were  sponsors  of  the  Frick  Museum.  Before  John  and   Isabelle  left  New  York,  the  Stanton's  were  hosting  a  cocktail  party  at  the  Museum  to  

benefit  a  new  exhibit.  Vanessa  called  and  invited  Isabelle,  asking  her  to  bring  John.   Isabelle  wanted  so  very  much  to  make  peace  between  them  before  they  left,  so  she   gladly  agreed,  and  John  went  along  with  it.       Isabelle  was  glad  to  make  this  consolatory  gesture,  after  all  she  was  taking  Vanessa's   son  to  live  outside  the  country.  Vanessa  had  been  very  forthcoming  with  her   approval  of  their  marriage  and  Isabelle  was  glad  for  John.       The  cocktail  party  was  scheduled  for  8  PM.  John  and  Isabelle  arrived  shortly  after  9.   Whitney  caught  up  to  them  as  soon  as  they  arrived.       The  place  was  jammed  with  people  and  filled  with  talk  and  music.  In  one  corner  was   a  quartet  playing  Mozart.       John  introduced  Isabelle  to  a  few  people  and  all  was  going  splendidly.  He  went  to  get   her  and  Whitney  each  a  flute  of  champagne.       Although  Isabelle  had  met  Whitney  in  the  Hamptons  through  mutual  acquaintances,   since  their  arrival  in  New  York  she  had  been  a  true  friend.  Isabelle  knew  that  she   had  helped  to  smooth  things  over  with  John's  mother,  and  that  she  really  cared  for   John.  Whitney  had  been  an  only  child  and  she  and  John  had  kind  of  grown  up   together  since  their  parents  had  been  close  friends.       "When  are  you  two  leaving?"  Whitney  asked  Isabelle.       "In  a  week  or  so,"  Isabelle  replied  with  a  smile.       "If  you  ever  need  to  talk,  or  a  friend's  point  of  view,  I'm  available  Isabelle."       Isabelle  looked  at  her.  "Thanks..."  she  said  simply,  unable  to  continue.  Perhaps  one   day  she  might  be  able  to  trust  other  people  but  for  Isabelle  it  was  one  day  at  a  time.   Trust  was  hard  for  her.       John  was  walking  through  the  crowd  towards  the  bar  when  Franklin  Benjamin   Caldwell  met  him.       "John,  my  boy  how  have  you  been?"  Franklin  asked.       "Franklin,  it's  great  to  see  you.  I'm  doing  fine,"  John  answered  as  he  shook  hands   with  the  older  man.       "The  last  time  Karl  and  I  had  lunch  you  were  abroad."       "Yes,  I  got  married,"  John  told  him  happily.  "Married?"  Franklin  asked  in  surprise.       "Yes,  she's  here.  I'll  bring  her  over  and  introduce  you."    

  "That's  wonderful,  my  boy.  I'm  sure  she's  lovely."       "Lovely,  is  an  understatement.  She's  damn  beautiful  and  the  perfect  woman  for  me,"   John  said  proudly  of  his  wife.       "Well  then  I  can  hardly  wait  to  meet  her.  Karl  and  Vanessa  must  be  estatic."  Franklin   was  truly  happy  for  John.       "Yes,  she's  very  special,"  John  said  as  he  walked  towards  the  bar.       Isabelle  and  Whitney  were  laughing  when  he  got  back  with  their  drinks.       "Darling,  someone  wants  to  meet  you,"  John  said  as  he  handed  Isabelle  her  drink.       "Okay."  She  smiled  at  him.       "Excuse  us  Whitney,  be  back  in  a  sec."  John  was  incredibly  happy.       The  night  had  been  a  success.  Isabelle  had  seen  that  things  were  working  out  after   all.  She  was  still  looking  at  John,  finishing  a  sentence  with  a  smile  on  her  face  when   they  stopped  and  she  heard  him  say.       "Isabelle,  darling,  these  are  very  old  and  good  friends  of  my  parents  and  mine.   Franklin  Benjamin  Caldwell  and  his  wife  Victoria."  No  sooner  had  he  finished  saying   their  names  when  Isabelle  turned  her  head.  She  froze  instantly.       "Franklin,  Victoria,  this  is  my  wife  Isabelle,"  John  said  happily  until  he  noticed  that   something  was  very  wrong.  He  looked  from  a  one  face  to  another.       "Isabelle?"  he  asked  with  obvious  concern.       "Let's  go  John!"  she  said  turning  to  face  him.  He  looked  from  her  to  Franklin  who   said  nothing.       "Isabelle...."  he  started  to  say.       "Please!  Let's  go!"  She  started  walking  away.       John  looked  at  Franklin  and  then  went  after  his  wife.  He  caught  up  with  her  as  she   went  through  one  of  the  doors  leading  out  to  the  courtyard.       "Isabelle,  what's  wrong?"  He  grabbed  her  arm  and  turned  her  around  to  face  him.       "Let's  go.  Take  me  home.  Please  take  me  home."  She  began  to  beg  him  hysterically.      

"Isabelle,  calm  down.  What  is  it?  What  is  the  matter?"       "Tell  him,"  a  voice  said  from  behind  them.       Isabelle  became  very  still.       John  turned  around  and  was  faced  with  Franklin  and  Victoria  Caldwell.       "Tell  him!"  Franklin  demanded  again.       "John  these  are  my  parents,"  Isabelle  said  quite  calmly.       John  looked  at  Franklin  and  back  to  Isabelle.       "Tell  him!"  Franklin  growled.  Isabelle  visibly  winced.       John  could  see  her  starting  to  shake  and  about  to  go  into  tears.       "She's  got  nothing  to  tell  me!"  John  was  furious.  Victoria  just  stood  there  in  silence.       Isabelle  looked  towards  her  mother  and  she  started  to  sway.  She  was  about  to   collapse  when  John  was  there  to  hold  her.       "Its  all  right  darling,  we're  going  home."  His  only  concern  was  for  her  now.       "John!"  Franklin  called  out.       "Not  one  more  word!"  John  directed  his  anger  towards  Franklin.       "You  have  to  know..."  started  to  say  Franklin  before  John  interrupted.  Isabelle  clung   to  John  unable  to  look  at  her  father.       "What  kind  of  monster  are  you?  How  could  you  have  shot  your  own  child?"  He  spat   out.       "John!"  Franklin  exclaimed,  grabbing  Isabelle  by  the  arm.       "Oh  no!"  She  cried.       John  shoved  him  away.  "If  you  ever  touch  her  again  I'll  kill  you.  Do  you  hear  me?  I'll   kill  you!"  He  picked  Isabelle  up  in  his  arms  and  walked  through  the  garden  and  out   to  the  street.       Her  head  just  lay  limply  on  his  shoulder.  He  could  hear  sobbing  as  she  clung  to  him.   They  drove  home  in  silence.  He  carried  her  into  the  house  and  past  a  surprised  and   concerned  Philip.    

  John  continued  up  to  their  bedroom.  She  lay  very  still  and  looked  very  pale.  Her  eyes   were  far  away  as  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks.  He  was  angry  and  at  the  same  time   he  was  scared.  So  angry  not  to  have  been  able  to  protected  her.  Within  minutes  he   saw  all  the  pain  and  anguish  she  must  have  lived  through.       He  remembered  how  she  just  cringed  and  cried  as  her  father  reached  for  her.  How   could  people  that  he  cared  for  and  admired  have  been  the  same  people  that  had   been  so  cruel  and  callous  with  the  woman  that  he  loved?       He  just  stared  at  her  feeling  helpless.  Nothing  he  could  say,  nothing  at  this  moment,   to  erase  all  the  hurt  inside  her.  And  he  was  afraid.  He  was  afraid  for  her.  She  was  lost   in  her  memories,  reliving  a  past  that  was  only  filled  with  pain  for  her.       He  could  see  it  in  her  eyes.  She  was  far  away.  He  sat  down  next  to  her  and  pulled  her   into  his  arms.  He  held  her  close  and  stroked  her  hair.  She  cried  herself  to  sleep  in  his   arms  and  he  watched  over  her  as  she  slept.       She  suddenly  woke  in  the  middle  of  the  night  and  hid  her  face  on  his  chest.  He  held   her  tightly.  She  tried  pulling  away  and  he  refused  to  let  go.  She  looked  into  his  eyes   and  all  he  saw  there  were  tears  about  to  be  shed.       He  kissed  her  passionately,  tasting  her  tears  as  they  rolled  down  her  cheeks.  He   kissed  her  eyes  and  her  forehead;  he  kissed  her  neck  and  started  stroking  her  body   in  places  he  knew  excited  her.       "No  John..."  she  was  unable  to  finish  the  sentence  when  his  mouth  covered  hers.  He   kissed  her  until  he  felt  her  response.  "You  still  want  me?"  She  questioned  in  a   whispered.       "I've  never  stopped,"  he  answered  as  he  sought  her  mouth  once  more.  He  made  love   to  her  more  than  once.  His  passion  for  her  would  burn  out  all  her  doubts.       ~~~~~~~~~~     Isabelle  did  not  get  up  in  the  morning.  She  seemed  lifeless  and  depressed,  and   looked  weak  and  frail.  He  would  arrange  for  their  immediate  departure.  The  only   person  he  trusted  to  stay  with  her  was  Whitney.  He  called  her  to  stay  with  Isabelle   until  he  came  back  later  that  day.       Whitney  asked  no  questions,  just  agreeing  to  come.  He  left  immediately  after  telling   Isabelle  that  he  was  going  out  to  arrange  their  departure.  She  smiled  but  did  not  try   to  get  out  of  bed.  He  was  more  concerned  than  he  showed.       "Whitney  will  be  here  in  a  few  minutes  darling,  and  I'll  be  back  soon."  He  kissed  her   and  walked  out.    

  A  few  minutes  later  Philip  knocked  on  her  bedroom  door.  "I'm  sorry  to  disturb  you   madam,  but  a  woman  downstairs  saying  she's  your  mother.  She  would  like  to  see   you,"  he  announced  to  Isabelle.  It  took  her  but  a  moment  to  recover  from  the   surprise.       "I'll  be  right  down  Philip,  please,  ask  her  to  wait."  She  slowly  started  getting  out  of   bed.       She  went  down  the  stairs  slowly.  When  she  reached  the  lower  landing  she  felt  weak   and  a  little  dizzy.  Phillip  walked  towards  her.  "Madam,  are  you  feeling  all  right?  Shall   I  call  Mr.  Stanton?"  His  concern  was  evident  in  his  tone  of  voice.       "No,  thank  you  Philip,  I'll  be  all  right,"  she  said,  straightening  up  and  walked  slowly   into  the  drawing  room.       Before  last  night  she  hadn't  seen  her  mother  in  seven  years.  She  had  gotten  older,  of   course,  and  she  looked  very  tired.       "How  are  you  feeling?"  Victoria  Caldwell  asked  her  daughter.       "How  am  I  suppose  to  be  feeling  mother?"  Isabelle  asked  a  question  of  her  own.       "You  don't  look  well,  sit  down."       Indeed,  feeling  weak,  Isabelle  sat  down.  "Why  are  you  here  mother?"       "I  was  worried  about  you  last  night,"  she  said  as  she  sat  down  across  from  Isabelle.       "I'm  fine,"  Isabelle  replied  softly.       "You  should  have  taken  your  medication  right  away.  You  know  what  the  doctor  said   to  you.  If  you  don't..."  Isabelle  interrupted  her  mother  before  she  could  finish.       "I  know  what  he  said  mother,"  she  said  wearily.       "Why  didn't  you  take  the  medication?"       "I  haven't  taken  it  for  over  four  months,"  she  answered  and  Victoria  was  not   surprised.       "I  thought  it  might  be  something  like  that,"  she  said  sadly.       "Well,  its  good  to  see  that  you  know  me  so  well  since  you  never  saw  me  much,   mother,"  Isabelle  said  sarcastically.      

"Why,  why  are  you  doing  it?  You  don't  want  John  to  find  out?"       "John  knows  mother."  Isabelle's  voice  was  again  weary.       This  surprised  Victoria  who  paused  a  minute  before  asking,  "Then  why?"       "Because  I  love  him.  If  I  were  to  leave  he  would  find  me  again.  The  greatest  gift  I  can   give  him  is  to  die  mother."       Victoria  looked  away  from  Isabelle  as  her  eyes  filled  with  tears.  Isabelle  took  a  deep   breath  and  continued.       "I'm  tired  of  my  life  mother.  Tired  of  all  this  pain.  The  best  thing  that  I  can  do  for  the   only  person  who  has  ever  loved  me  is  to  die.  It's  the  only  way  he'll  be  free."       "John  doesn't  know  about  your  heart  does  he?"  Victoria  asked.       "No,"  Isabelle  answered  simply  before  standing  up.  "Go  mother,  you've  done  your   duty.  You've  made  your  yearly  visit,"  she  said  sadly.       "I'm  sorry  Isabelle."  Tears  welled  up  in  Victoria's  eyes.       "Tell  father  he'll  be  free  of  me  soon,"  Isabelle  threw  over  her  shoulder  as  she  walked   towards  the  door.       "Isabelle!"  Victoria  called  out  to  her  daughter.       "Go  home  mother.  The  visit  is  over."  Isabelle  walked  out.       ~~~~~~~~~~     She  became  vaguely  familiar  that  there  was  someone  in  the  room  with  her.  She  felt   tired  and  her  eyes  felt  heavy.  She  saw  Whitney  and  then  all  she  saw  was  darkness.   When  her  eyes  opened  again  she  looked  around  and  saw  Whitney  sitting  on  a  chair   next  to  her  bed.  Whitney  leaned  over  as  soon  as  she  realized  Isabelle  was  awake.       "Isabelle,  are  you  all  right?  Can  I  get  you  anything?"  Her  voice  sounded  concerned.       "No,  I'm  all  right,"  Isabelle  said  softly.       "John  and  I  are  worried  about  you."       "I  know,"  she  answered  as  she  closed  her  eyes  once  more.       "Isabelle,  the  pain  may  get  better  for  the  telling,"  said  Whitney.      

Isabelle  looked  at  her  and  smiled  sadly.  "Sometimes  the  pain  never  goes  away;  it  just   grows."       "John  loves  you  so  much.  Trust  his  judgment,  he  won't  let  you  down."  Whitney  said,   trying  to  reassure  her.  Isabelle  merely  smiled  and  went  back  to  sleep.       ~~~~~~~~~~     He  was  making  arrangements  as  quickly  as  humanly  possible.  He  had  called  the   house  several  times  and  spoken  to  Whitney.  Isabelle  seemed  depressed  and  was  still   asleep.  He  was  finishing  up  some  paperwork  when  his  private  line  rang.  He  picked   up  the  receiver  quickly.  "Hello?"  He  spoke  into  the  receiver.       "John,  it's  Mother."  He  felt  relieved.       "Yes  mother,  what  is  it?"  He  asked  in  a  hurry.       "I  lost  sight  of  you  two  last  night."       "We  left  early.  Isabelle  wasn't  feeling  well."       "Could  she  be  pregnant?"  She  asked  hopefully.  John  was  caught  off  guard.       "No,  Mother  she  hasn't  been  sleeping  well  that's  all."       "Well  I  hope  she  feels  better,"  said  Vanessa.       "Thanks  Mother...Good-­‐bye."  He  hung  up  the  phone.       She  had  thought  that  Isabelle  might  be  pregnant.  He  ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair.   Why  had  this  happened  to  them?  Why  had  life  done  this  to  them?       He  finally  admitted  to  himself  that  this  was  not  easy.  He  wanted  to  have  children   with  her  and  that  would  never  be.  He  would  have  wanted  to  show  off  to  the  world   the  woman  he  loved  and  not  be  afraid  of  the  outcome.  He  wanted  the  impossible.       Most  of  all  he  wanted  to  make  a  perfect  world  for  her  and  perhaps  in  time  and  far   away  from  here  he  could.  He  would  certainly  try  or  he  knew  he  would  lose  her.   Something  inside  him  told  him  that  it  was  only  a  matter  of  time.  He  would  lose   Isabelle;  sooner  or  later  he  would  loose  her.       He  was  brought  back  to  reality  when  the  intercom  on  his  desk  buzzed.       "Yes  Audrey?"  He  said  into  the  machine.      

"Mr.  Stanton  you  said  you  didn't  want  to  be  disturbed  but  a  woman  here  insists  on   seeing  you.  She  says  she  is  Mrs.  Stanton's  mother."  He  became  very  alert.       "What's  her  name?"       "She  says  her  name  is  Victoria  Caldwell..."  he  did  not  wait  for  Audrey  to  continue.       "Let  her  in,"  he  said,  standing  to  meet  Isabelle's  mother.       Victoria  Caldwell  walked  in  slowly.  She  looked  at  John  and  walked  up  to  his  desk.   "Please  sit  down,"  he  said  to  her.  She  sat.  He  sat  back  behind  his  desk,  waiting  for   her  to  speak.       "John  I  must  speak  with  you."  She  spoke  in  a  very  soft  voice.       "I  know  everything  Victoria,  you  have  nothing  to  tell  me,"  he  said  in  exasperation.       "I'm  so  glad  that...that  she  has  found  someone  to  love  her,"  Victoria  said  looking  at   the  floor  not  at  John.       "Yes,  I  do  love  her."       "I  went  to  see  her  today  and  she  is  not  well,"  she  told  John.       "You  went  to  the  house?"  He  asked  incredulously.       "Yes,  I  was  worried  after  last  night."       "How  could  you  not  love  her  Victoria?  She's  so  easy  to  love."  Silence  was  the  only   reponse  that  John  recieved.  "Why  are  you  here?"  He  finally  asked.       "She  is  ill."  Finally  she  looked  up  at  John.       "Yes,  it's  a  miracle  she's  still  alive  after  everything  she's  been  through,"  he  said   sadly.       "No,  I  mean  she  has  a  heart  condition  and  has  not  been  taking  her  medication."  Her   news  landed  on  him  like  a  ton  of  bricks.  He  sat  very  still.       "What  are  you  saying?"  He  could  not  believe  what  he  had  heard.       "I  saw  her  last  night  and  how  she  got  so  pale.  I  noticed  she  didn't  take  the  medicine   as  she  was  suppose  to  right  away.  The  doctor  said  that  if  it  was  taken  as  soon  as  she   started  to  feel  badly  it  would  avoid  an  attack."  John  just  sat  staring  at  her.  He  had   become  a  statue,  lifeless.      

"You  said  that  she  was  told  she  must  take  medication  immediately?"  His  question   was  barely  audible.       "Yes,  when  Isadore  was  a  child  we  found  out  he  had  a  heart  condition.  It  was   controlled  with  medication."       "Why?  Why  didn't  she  tell  me?"  Even  though  he'd  spoke  out  loud,  he  was   questioning  himself,  not  her.       "She  wants  to  die  John,"  stated  Victoria.  He  looked  at  her  in  shock.  "I  gave  in  to   Franklin  at  every  turn.  I'll  have  to  live  with  that  the  rest  of  my  life.  But  I  can't  let  this   happen."  John  just  stared  at  her.       "Franklin  was  married  once  before.  Isabelle  is  his  daughter,  not  mine.  I  raised  her   though.  And  you're  right  he...I'm  sorry  she  was  the  most  beautiful  and  loving  baby;   sensitive  and  happy.  I  held  her  as  a  child.  She'd  fall  asleep  in  my  arms,  looking  into   my  eyes  lovingly,  trusting  me  to  keep  her  safe.  I  let  Franklin..."  she  could  not   continue.       John  just  sat,  silently  listening  as  Victoria  continued  to  talk.  "Franklin  never  spoke  of   Margot.  That  was  Isabelle's  mother.  He  loved  her.  When  she  left  him,  he  took  the   child  away  from  her  and  never  let  her  see  it  again.  As  the  years  past  by  I  realized   that  he  had  never  stopped  loving  Margot  and  he  loved  her  still  through  Isadore.   That's  what  she  called  their  son.  Franklin  was  so  obsessed  his  son,  that  I  began  to   resent  Isadore  for  it.  And  I'm  ashamed  to  say  that  when  Isadore  began  to  fail  him  in   his  expectations,  I  was  glad."       John  got  up  and  stood  next  to  the  window  looking  out  into  the  street.  Victoria   continued.       "When  it  became  obvious  to  him  that  Isadore  was  a  disappointment,  he  sent  him   away.  That  child  cried  all  night  long,  begging  me  not  to  send  him  away.  I  didn't  even   try  to  convince  Franklin.  Every  year  on  Isadore's  birthday  Margot  would  call  and   beg  Franklin  to  see  her  son.  He  waited  by  the  phone  every  year  for  that  phone  call.   He  still  does.  The  night  he  shot  Isadore  she  called  and  he  told  her  that  their  son  had   died.  She  never  called  again.  He  still  waits  by  that  phone  on  Isadore's  birthday  every   year."  She  took  another  deep  breath  and  continued.       "That  night,  I  saw  the  horror  of  what  we  had  done.  I  had  allowed  Franklin  to  torture   that  poor  child.  I  was  suppose  to  be  his  mother,  and  I  allowed  Franklin  to  torture   that  innocent,  loving  child.  When  I  saw  him  covered  in  blood  I  realized  what  a   monster  I  had  allowed  myself  to  become."  Victoria  began  to  cry  as  she  finished  her   story.       John  looked  at  her  in  complete  disbelief  and  horror.  "My  God...what  have  you  people   done?"  He  was  unable  to  control  the  disgust  in  his  voice.    

  "She  wants  to  die,  John,"  she  said  to  him  again  He  ran  his  ringers  through  his  hair  in   an  obvious  defeated  gesture.  "She  wants  to  save  you.  She  doesn't  want  you  to  be   hurt  some  day  if  people  find  out.  She  wants  to  die  to  free  you."       "My  God...my  God!  She  wants  to  free  me?"  He  asked  as  tears  rolled  down  his  face.  He   felt  helpless  and  overwhelmed  with  such  emotion  that  he  could  not  control  it.     She  wanted  to  die  to  spare  him  the  pain  of  loving  her.  He  had  wanted  everything  and   because  of  that  he  had  been  selfish.  He  should  never  have  brought  her  back.  He   wanted  to  make  her  something  she  could  never  be.  He  had  brought  her  back  here,   where  all  she  had  known  was  pain  because  he  wanted  to  include  her  and  make  her  a   part  of  a  life  he  was  used  to.       He  should  have  seen  it.  She  had  come  to  please  him  knowing  that  it  would  hurt  her   and  all  this  time  she  had  stopped  taking  the  medicine.  She  loved  him  enough  to   desire  death  and  he  had  not  even  been  able  to  give  up  his  old  life  for  her.  All  that   kept  going  through  his  head  was  that  he  should  never  have  brought  her  back.       Victoria  got  up  and  John  looked  back  in  her  direction.  "Keep  Franklin  away  from   Isabelle  John.  He  is...he  has  gotten  worse  since  the  shooting.  When  Margot  called   that  night,  I  saw  him  and  I  realized  that  he  had  shot  Isadore  because  he  was   Margot's  son.  After  he  spoke  with  her  he  started  to  talk  and  talk.  He  shot  Isadore   because  he  thought  that  life  had  played  a  horrible  joke  on  him.  He  hadn't  seen   Isadore  for  almost  ten  years.  When  he  saw  Isabelle  that  night  he  saw  Margot's  face   looking  back  at  him.,  and  he  shot  her  for  having  taken  his  son.  But  he  had  shot   Isadore  of  course."       John  could  not  believe  all  that  he  was  hearing.  "I  found  out  a  few  years  ago  where   Margot  Strassburg  lives.  Here  is  her  address,"  she  said,  handing  John  a  piece  of   paper.  "I  don't  want  to  be  a  party  to  hurting  Isabelle  anymore.  Take  her  away  John.   Take  her  far  away  from  Franklin.  Someday  I  hope..."  she  was  unable  to  finish  the   sentence.       She  walked  over  to  the  door,  then  stopped  and  spoke  again.  "Love  her  John,  love  her.   She  was  easy  to  love  but  she  never  was."  Having  said  this  she  walked  out  of  his   office.  John  stood  looking  at  the  closed  door.       Suddenly  he  realized  he  had  to  act.  A  doctor,  he  needed  to  contact  a  heart  specialist   right  away.  With  his  money  and  connections  he  made  the  impossible  happen.  Within   the  hour  he  had  an  appointment  with  the  best  heart  specialist  in  the  country.  He  had   to  get  to  Isabelle.  He  would  help  her  to  understand  that  all  he  needed  in  life  was  her.       ~~~~~~~~~~    

He  had  his  car  wait  for  him  in  front  of  his  building  so  he  could  fly  home.  When  the   car  pulled  up  in  front  of  his  home  he  did  not  wait  for  the  chauffeur  to  open  his  car   door.  John  ran  up  the  steps  of  the  brownstone.       Philip  met  him  in  the  foyer.  "Phillip,  where  is  Mrs.  Stanton?"       "She  is  upstairs,  sir,"  answered  Phillip.  John  started  quickly  towards  the  staircase.       "Sir..."  Phillip  called  out.  John  turned  around  to  face  him.       "Yes?  Phillip  can  it  wait?"  He  asked  in  exasperation.       "No,  sir  it  can't,"  Phillip  stated  firmly,  surprising  John.       "Sir,  Mrs.  Stanton  is  not  well.  She  almost  collapsed  at  the  bottom  of  the  staircase   today.  She  asked  me  not  to  say  anything,  but  sir,  she  is  such  a  lovely  lady.  She  asked   me  not  to  say  anything  to  you,  sir,  so  as  not  to  worry  you.  But  sir,  I  would  feel  worse   if  something  were  to  happen  to  her  because  I  did  not  tell  you."       John  looked  at  Philip  and  gave  him  a  nod  of  appreciation  then  turned  around  and   ran  up  the  stairs.  He  went  into  their  bedroom  and  found  Isabelle  asleep.       Whitney  was  sitting  in  a  chair  by  the  corner.  She  walked  up  to  him  in  silence,  briefly   rubbed  his  shoulder,  and  walked  out  of  the  room,  closing  the  door  behind  her.       Slowly  he  walked  and  stood  next  to  the  bed.  He  stood  looking  at  her  for  a  long  time.   She  looked  so  peaceful  as  she  slept.  Probably  the  only  time  she  was  ever  at  peace   was  when  she  slept.  He  pulled  a  chair  over  next  to  the  bed  and  sat  to  watch  over  her.       He  wasn't  sure  how  long  he  had  been  watching  her  when  she  stirred.  Her  eyes   slowly  opened.       ~~~~~~~~~~     The  room  was  dark.  But  the  darkness  to  her  was  cool  and  enveloping.  She  closed  her   eyes,  then  opened  them  again.  She  looked  around  her  dreamily  until  she  noticed  him   sitting  in  a  chair  close  to  her.  She  recognized  her  husband  immediately.  Even  in  the   darkness  she  could  see  his  eyes  looking  into  her  soul.  She  became  as  still  as  he.       He  got  up  and  slowly  moved  towards  her.  He  sat  next  to  her  on  the  bed  and  caressed   her  face  so  tenderly,  barely  touching  her  afraid  that  she  might  break.       "Feeling  better?"  He  asked  barely  audible.       "Yes."  She  wasn't  sure  how  long  she  had  been  resting.  "Have  you  been  here  long?"   She  ventured  to  ask.    

  "No,  not  long"  he  said.  He  looked  at  her  with  intensely,  examining  every  part  of  her   face.       She  looked  at  him  with  a  sense  of  curiosity.  He  got  up  and  stood  in  front  of  the   window.  She  could  see  the  outline  of  him  against  the  light  shinning  through  the   curtain.  He  stood  looking  out  only  for  a  little  while,  then  he  removed  his  coat  and   started  undressing.       She  followed  his  movements  in  the  dark.  He  got  in  bed  and  took  her  in  his  arms.  He   held  her  close  afraid  to  speak.       "You  feel  good,"  she  said  finally  as  she  burrowed  her  face  in  his  chest.  Breathing  in   his  scent  and  exhaling  with  satisfaction.       She  always  felt  safe  in  John's  embrace.  She  wanted  him  for  as  long  as  time  would   allow.  She  knew  enough  about  her  illness  to  realize  that  she  was  not  well.  Her   medication  had  assured  her  life  but  she  had  chosen  death.  And  she  knew  that  one   day  she  would  simply  not  wake  up.       "Don't  you  love  me  enough  to  live  for  me?"  She  heard  him  ask  and  she  instantly   tensed  in  his  arms.  "Live  for  me  Isabelle.  The  idea  of  lying  in  the  dark  alone  without   you  fills  me  with  terror.  I  don't  want  what  there  was  before  you.  Don't  sentence  me   to  a  life  of  loneliness.  Fight  for  me...please?"       She  stood  very  still  in  his  arms.  Tears  started  welling  up  and  spilling  over.  He  took   her  chin  and  raised  it  to  meet  his  eyes.       "You  are  my  future.  Love  me  enough  to  fight  for  me."  His  lips  kissed  her  tenderly.   She  was  about  to  say  something  when  he  put  his  finger  on  her  lips.  "Your  mother   came  to  see  me,"  he  said  to  her  and  she  instantly  understood.       She  sat  up  and  he  sat  next  to  her.  "We  are  going  to  see  a  specialist  tomorrow,  so  that   he  can  tell  me  how  my  heart  is  doing,  and  what  I  have  to  do  to  keep  it  working  for  at   least  another  forty  or  fifty  years.  Because,  Isabelle,  it's  not  your  heart  that  will  cease   to  beat  but  mine  if  anything  happens  to  you"  he  finished  saying  holding  his  breath  as   he  waited  for  her  answer.       "I  do  love  you  John.  You  have  to  believe  that."  She  was  facing  him  now.       "I  do."  Her  hand  caressed  his  face  tenderly.       "I'm  sorry  you  found  out,"  she  said  as  tears  rolled  down  her  cheek.       "How  can  you  say  that  Isabelle?"  He  pulled  her  into  his  arms  and  held  her  tightly.      

"John,  all  I  can  bring  you  is  shame.  Don't  you  see  that?"  She  pulled  away  from  him   and  started  getting  out  of  bed.       He  grabbed  her  arm  and  pulled  her  back  on  the  bed.  He  was  over  her,  pinning  her   down,  not  allowing  her  to  move.       "You  idiot,  you  idiot.  How  can  you  say  that  to  me?  You  are  the  reason  I  feel  alive.  All  I   have  ever  felt  was  alone.  Always  needing  and  never  knowing  how  to  fill  the  void   inside  me.  You  have  made  me  whole,  and  if  you  think  I'm  going  to  let  you  go  you   must  be  crazy!"  His  anger  was  clear  in  his  voice.       "I  don't  want  to  be  the  one  to  hurt  you...and  one  day  you  know  I  will,"  she  said  to   him  in  tears.       "I'll  gladly  die  tomorrow  to  live  today,  because  that's  what  would  happen  if  I  were  to   lose  you  Isabelle.  I  would  die."  And  his  words  brought  her  closer  to  him  then  any   embrace  could  have.  Her  arms  went  around  him  and  she  cried  into  his  chest  as  he   held  on  tightly.       ~~~~~~~~~~     They  were  taken  directly  into  Dr.  Matthew  Bernstein's  private  office.  John  had  used   all  his  influence  to  get  this  appointment.  People  usually  waited  close  to  six  months   for  an  appointment,  but  they  didn't  have  six  months.       The  doctor  asked  Isabelle  many  questions  and  discussed  the  tests  he  wanted  her  to   have.  He  made  it  quite  clear  that  she  had  been  very  irresponsible  with  her   medication  and  wanted  her  back  on  it  immediately.  He  picked  up  the  phone  and  one   of  his  assistants  took  them  to  another  room  as  he  set  up  all  the  necessary  tests  and   paperwork.       She  was  to  have  rest  and  it  was  made  clear  that  she  was  not  to  let  anything  upset   her.  The  next  few  days  were  hell.  Not  knowing  exactly  what  her  condition  was  the   worse  thing  of  all.       John  stayed  with  her  every  moment.  Screening  everything  and  everyone  that  came   in  contact  with  her.  He  could  hardly  believe  it  when  he  got  a  call  from  Dr.  Bernstein   that  all  the  tests  were  in  and  the  doctor  wanted  to  see  them  both  in  the  morning.       He  hung  up  the  phone  and  sat  down  on  the  chair  nearest  to  him.  He  was  tired  and   scared,  afraid  of  the  news  and  at  the  same  time  he  needed  to  know  desperately.  He   sat  in  the  chair  for  a  long  time  alone  in  the  foyer.       He  looked  around  him  and  felt  the  emptiness  in  the  house.  He  couldn't  lose  her.   Phillip  was  coming  in  when  he  saw  John  sitting  in  the  chair,  stopping  before  John  

noticed  him.  John  couldn't  contain  the  fear  and  the  emotions  inside  him.  His  fingers   ran  through  his  hair  as  he  felt  the  weight  of  the  world  on  him.       She  could  die  were  the  words  that  went  through  his  mind  over  and  over;  he  held  the   sides  of  his  head  as  his  body  shook  with  sobs.       Phillip  lowered  his  head  in  sadness  and  quietly  walked  out  of  the  room.  His  question   could  keep.  If  the  young  Mrs.  Stanton  were  to  die,  he  could  see  that  her  husband   would  take  it  very  badly.  She  had  been  kind  to  him  and  he  had  to  admit  he  had   grown  to  be  fond  of  her  as  well.       He  had  worked  for  John  Stanton  for  over  five  years  now,  but  John  was  another  man   since  coming  back  with  his  beautiful  wife.  She  had  brightened  this  house  and  had   made  it  a  home.  The  whole  staff  was  fond  of  her.  And  when  they  all  realized  that  she   was  very  ill  they  genuinely  felt  sorry.       When  she  was  in  the  room  her  husband  was  cheerful  but  as  soon  as  she  left,  all   around  him  could  see  the  sadness  in  him.  He  had  to  admit,  it  had  moved  him  very   much  to  see  the  young  man  in  tears,  allowing  himself  his  grief  alone  and  away  from   her.  He  hoped  that  the  news  would  not  be  bad.       ~~~~~~~~~~     "John,  is  she  going  to  be  alright?"  Vanessa  asked  visibly  concerned.       "I  don't  know  mother,"  he  said  in  a  tired  voice.  He  walked  over  to  the  bar  and   reached  for  one  of  the  decanters.  Karl  and  Vanessa  looked  at  each  other.  Karl  spoke   first.       "John  what  did  he  say?"       "We  have  to  see  dad,  she's  had  so  many  tests  already."  With  a  large  gulp,  he  emptied   his  glass.       "When  does  she  see  him  again?"  Vanessa  asked.  John  put  the  glass  down  and  closed   his  eyes  for  a  moment.       He  had  his  back  to  them,  his  shoulders  started  to  droop.  Vanessa  was  seated  on  the   couch  and  got  up  immediately  but  Karl  stopped  her  before  she  was  able  to  walk  over   to  John.  He  turned  to  face  them  visibly  in  more  control  of  his  emotions.       "I'm  sure  she's  going  to  be  fine."  Vanessa  said  reassuringly  with  a  smile  that  she  did   not  feel.       "Of  course,  she's  going  to  be  fine.  Do  you  remember  Freddie  Mason?  He  was  pretty   bad  for  awhile,  heart  trouble  too.  Now  you  wouldn't  know  that  he  had  been  sick  at  

all."  Karl  tried  to  reassure  his  son.  Vanessa  sat  down  again.  All  three  tried  to  portray   a  confidence  they  didn't  feel.  John  gave  them  a  half  smile.       "Karl  why  don't  you  go  get  the  car,  dear.  It's  so  cold  and  you  know  how  I  am  about   the  cold."  Karl  took  the  hint  and  left  mother  and  son  alone  together.       Vanessa  got  up  and  walked  over  to  her  son  very  slowly.  It  had  been  so  simple  to   comfort  him  when  he  was  a  child.  All  she  had  to  do  was  hold  him  and  it  would  all  be   better.       This  was  something  Vanessa  was  not  prepared  for.  She  felt  helpless  to  aid  him.  She   quite  suddenly  realized  that  if  anything  were  to  happen  to  Isabelle  her  son  would   never  recover  from  it.       She  was  filled  with  an  overwhelming  need  to  protect  him.  As  she  got  right  in  front  of   him  she  did  the  only  thing  she  could  think  of.  She  pulled  him  into  her  embrace.  He   resisted  for  a  moment  then  quite  suddenly  he  clung  to  her  sobbing.       She  held  him  even  closer  to  her.  Words  were  not  necessary.  But  she  could  not  have   spoken  if  she  tried.  She  could  feel  the  tears  building  in  her  eyes  and  the  lump   growing  in  her  throat.       John  had  always  been  so  strong.  Even  as  a  boy  he  had  been  proud  to  stand-­‐alone.   And  knowing  this  made  her  heart  ache  for  him  even  more.  After  awhile  he  became   still  and  pulled  away  from  her.  He  was  in  control  again.  He  walked  to  the  door  and   before  he  left  her  he  turned  to  her       "Thanks  Mom.  I'm  going  up  to  Isabelle."       "Yes,  go  on  John,"  she  said  with  a  smile.  When  the  door  closed  behind  him  she  just   stood  there  staring  at  it.       She  reached  for  the  back  of  a  chair  to  sustain  her.  It  had  broken  her  heart  to  see  the   pain  in  him.  But  her  pain  was  not  important.  She  had  to  be  strong  for  him.       They  had  been  so  close  when  he  was  a  child,  and,  somehow  along  the  years  that   closeness  had  been  strained.  But,  today  he  had  needed  her  and  had  clung  to  her  in   his  pain.  And,  all  she  could  do  was  hold  him  tightly  to  her  and  somehow  it  had  been   enough.       ~~~~~~~~~~     They  both  received  the  doctor's  news  differently.  It  had  not  been  good  but  as  the   doctor  said  it  might  have  been  worse.  There  had  been  some  damage  to  her  heart.   She  needed  to  go  back  on  the  medication  and  follow  his  instructions  to  the  letter.   She  might  still  have  a  long  life  if  she  wanted  to,  but  she  had  to  want  to.    

  After  the  doctor's  visit,  the  strain  began  between  them.  Because  of  the  treatment,  it   was  decided  that  they  not  travel  for  a  while.  John  became  incredibly  over  protective   and  Isabelle  became  more  distant.       John  decided  that  he  should  try  to  find  Margot  Strassburg  and  see  if  this  could  be   something  that  might  bring  Isabelle  some  peace  and  happiness.  So  three  days  later   he  went  looking  for  her.       He  had  no  trouble  finding  the  address.  If  his  luck  held  out  she  might  still  be  living   there.  He  got  out  of  his  car  and  started  walking  a  few  yards  down  the  street.  He   looked  down  at  the  piece  of  paper  in  his  hand  and  back  up  at  the  house  in  front  of   him.       This  was  it  165  Meadows  Lane.  He  went  up  the  few  steps  and  knocked  on  the  front   door.  He  waited  a  few  seconds  and  proceeded  to  knock  again.  This  time  he  heard  a   female  voice  call  out.  "Coming."  He  waited  in  anticipation.       The  door  swung  open  and  a  woman  holding  onto  a  wet  squirming  puppy  met  him.   She  smiled       "May  I  help  you?"  She  said,  as  he  stood  speechless  for  a  brief  moment.  Before  him   was  an  older  version  of  his  Isabelle.       This  was  Margot  Strassburg.  "Yes,  Ms.  Strassburg.  My  name  is  John  Stanton.  I  wish  to   speak  to  you  about...your  son."  The  smile  on  the  woman's  face  disappeared.     "Who  are  you?"  She  asked  with  a  hint  of  anger  in  her  voice.       "I'm...may  I  come  in  to  speak  to  you?"       "No!"She  answered  in  an  agitated  state.  The  puppy  jumped  out  of  her  hands  and  ran   inside.  "Please  leave."  She  started  to  shut  the  door  in  his  face.       "Isadore  is  not  dead!"  John  blurted  out.  She  was  visibly  shaken  and  stood  staring  at   him  in  disbelief.       "Please,  if  Franklin  has  sent  you  to  torture  me,  please....Don't  do  this.  Don't  do  this.   My  son  died  many  years  ago."  Her  voice  shook  with  emotion.       "Isadore  is  alive,"  John  said  again.  For  a  moment  she  stood  unable  to  speak.       "Where  is  he?  Please  tell  me  where  he  is?"  She  pleaded  as  her  eyes  filled  with   unshed  tears.       "I  think  it's  time  you  know  each  other.  It's  time  to  make  things  right  for  both  of  you."    

  "Come  in...please...Come  in."  She  stepped  aside  and  John  walked  into  the  living  room   of  Isabelle's  mother's  house.       "Please,  won't  you  sit  down?"  She  pointed  to  the  sofa.  John  nodded  and  sat  facing   her  as  she  sat  opposite  of  him.  He  didn't  quite  know  where  to  begin  but  begin  he   must.  "I'm  sorry  Ms.  Strassburg,  I  don't  know  quite  how  to  start,"  he  said  to  her   gently.       "Is  he  all  right?"  She  asked  softly.  Her  eyes  asked  so  much  more.       "Yes."  he  said  simply.       "Where  is  he?  Please  tell  me  were  he  is."       "Here  in  New  York  City."  A  long  silence  followed.  "My  family  has  known  Frankilin  for   many  years.  I  never  would  have  believed  he  could  have  been  capable  of  such  a   monstrosity."       Her  eyes  shot  back  to  him.       "I  know  he  kept  your  son  from  you.  I  know  he  told  you  that  he  was  dead.  I  only   found  out  about  your  existence  a  few  days  ago."       She  listened  quietly  and  he  continued.  "The  best  way  to  tell  you  what  has  happened   all  these  years  is  the  way  it  was  told  to  me,  so  you  can  understand...so  you  can  help   your  son...so  you  can  understand  just  how  much  he  needs  you."  John  stopped.       She  looked  at  him  and  her  hand  covered  one  of  his  gently.  "You  love  my  son,"  she   said.       "Yes."       "Tell  me...I'll  listen,"  she  assured  him.       "I  was  having  lunch  with  a  friend  in  the  Hamptons  one  afternoon  and  quite  suddenly   I  saw  a  young  woman..."       ~~~~~~~~~~     An  hour  later  he  had  finished  his  story.  He  had  been  looking  at  her  hand  over  his   throughout  the  entire  story.  He  had  not  looked  up,  not  even  once.       She  has  to  understand,  he  kept  repeating  to  himself.  She  just  had  to.  He  took  a  deep   breath,  exhaled  and  looked  up.      

Her  eyes  were  veiled  to  him.  She  got  up  very  slowly  and  walked  towards  the   window.  She  stood  there  a  few  minutes  looking  out  into  the  street.  He  stood  up  too.       "You  must  understand,  Isabelle  needs  you.  She  needs  something  I  can't  give  her.  She   needs  to  know  that  someone  else  loved  her.  She  is  so  easy  to  love."  Tears  welled  up   in  his  eyes.  "I  need  your  help...help  me  to  save  her...please...I  beg  you!"  He  pleaded   with  her.  She  turned  to  face  him.       "No,  you  don't  understand.  I  just  can't  believe  that  my  son  is  alive.  The  last  time  I   saw  him  he  was  just  a  baby...so  beautiful.  I  slowly  came  to  know  the  real  Franklin.  I   knew  that  I  had  to  leave  him  and  I  filed  for  divorce  before  I  even  told  him.  I  thought   that  I  could  leave  him  and  start  a  knew  life  with  my  baby.  But,  Franklin  proved  to  be   more  of  a  monster  than  I  thought.  He  was  furious  when  he  found  out.  He  threw  me   out  of  the  house  and  vowed  never  to  let  me  have  my  baby.  At  first  I  still  had  hope   that  I  might  get  him  back.  Then  one  night  I  agreed  to  meet  him.  He  said  that  he   regretted  what  had  happened,  that  he  was  going  to  let  me  have  Isadore.  I  went  there   and  he  was  indeed  waiting  for  me.  It  was  a  house  in  the  country.  He  often  used  it   when  he  went  hunting.  He  kept  me  there  for  nine  days.  He...hurt  me...many  times   before  he  left..."  She  sobbed  as  she  continued.  "He  said  he  would  rather  see  my  baby   dead  than  for  me  to  have  him.  I  believed  him."       Looking  at  John  with  tear  filled  eyes  she  stopped  for  a  moment.  "Want  him?  You   can't  imagine  how  much  I  want  him.  I  have  wanted  him  every  second  of  his  life.   When  can  I  see  him?"  She  asked  anxiously.       "Isabelle  doesn't  know  about  you.  I  haven't  told  her,"  he  said.  Margot  looked   puzzled.  "I  couldn't  take  the  chance.  Not  until  I  spoke  with  you  first."       "Yes,  of  course,"  she  said  to  him  softly.  "Do  you  have  a  picture  of...her?"  Margot   asked  hesitantly.  John  nodded.  He  reached  into  his  pocket  and  took  out  his  wallet.   He  retrieved  a  photo  and  handed  it  to  her.       It  was  a  picture  they  had  taken  together  in  Malaga.  Isabelle  had  been  so  happy  then.   They  were  holding  each  other  smiling  into  the  camera.  Margot  looked  at  the  picture   as  if  to  study  every  inch  of  it.  Her  other  hand  touched  it  softly  and  tenderly  and  as   her  eyes  came  up  to  meet  his  a  smile  appeared  on  her  face.       "She  is  very  beautiful,"  she  said  simply.       "Yes,  she  is."       ~~~~~~~~~~     Isabelle  was  resting  in  the  drawing  room  when  Phillip  came  in  to  let  her  know  she   had  a  visitor.      

"Mrs.  Stanton,  there  is  a  gentlemen  to  see  you.  His  name  is  Frankilin  Benjamin   Caldwell."  As  soon  as  he  finished  saying  this  he  noticed  how  Isabelle  went  still.   "Madam,  do  you  wish  me  to  send  him  away?"       "No  Phillip,  bring  him  in  here  please,"  she  replied  softly.  Isabelle  braced  herself  for   what  was  to  come.  She  had  been  expecting  this  visit.  She  had  just  thought  it  might   have  taken  him  a  little  longer.       It  is  time  to  face  the  tiger,  she  thought  to  herself.  She  took  a  deep  breath  before  the   door  was  opened  and  in  walked  her  father.       He  seemed  as  he  had  always  seemed  to  her.  Somehow  she  realized  time  had  not   changed  him.  She  had  hoped  that  as  her  mother  had  come  to  her  he  might  too.  But  to   look  at  him  she  realized  that  this  meeting  would  be  a  painful  one.       "Come  in  Father,  please  sit  down."  She  pointed  to  the  chair  across  from  her  without   getting  up  from  her  seat.       He  sat  down  without  so  much  as  a  word.  He  kept  eye  contact  with  her  until  she  was   forced  to  look  away.  He  had  not  changed.       "Why  are  you  here?"  She  asked  softly  as  she  looked  up  again.       "You  must  know  why.  Did  you  think  that  I  would  let  you  destroy  John  Stanton!"  He   retorted  harshly.       "I  don't  want  to  hurt  him.  I  love  him.  He  is  my  husband."       "He  can't  be  your  husband.  I  am  here  to  make  sure  you  don't  ruin  this  family!"  He   yelled.  "I  want  to  see  you  leave  these  people  alone.  Isn't  it  enough  that  you  have   destroyed  all  that  you  have  ever  touched?"       "I  have  never  wanted  to  hurt  anyone.  I'm  sorry  that  you  could  not  see  that."  She  was   looking  at  him  now.       "You  have  been  a  curse  to  me.  But  I  will  not  allow  you  to  destroy  this  family!"  He   yelled  in  his  almighty  voice.       "I  don't  want  to  hurt  John.  I  love  him.  And  he  loves  me."       "He  doesn't  know  what  you  are.  He  thinks  he  does  but  he  doesn't,"  he  finished  in   disgust.       "Father,  don't  do  this  to  me."  She  spoke  as  the  tears  started  running  down  her  face.   "Father,  I  love  him.  He  is  the  only  thing  I  have  ever  wanted.  Don't  take  him  away   from  me  Father.  It  would  kill  me."    

  For  a  moment  it  seemed  that  Franklin  was  moved.  He  stared  at  Isabelle  as  if  she   were  someone  else.  Her  eyes  beseeched  him  and  for  a  second  she  honestly  thought   that  she  had  reached.  Until,  his  eyes  became  even  colder  than  before.       "You  are  like  your  mother.  She  thought  she  could  have  her  way.  I  had  to  teach  her   otherwise."  He  said  malevolently.  "Leave  him,  or  I  will  leak  this  to  the  press."       Isabelle  could  not  believe  what  he  had  said.  She  stared  at  him  in  pain  and  confusion.   "Father..."       "Do  it  soon,  or  I  will  do  as  I  say,"  he  growled.       Her  head  bowed  in  defeat.  "I  will  need  time.  He  has  to  think  I  don't  care  for  him.  If  he   suspects  anything  else  he  will  follow  me  and  he  would  never  be  free."       "I  give  you  a  month.  Do  it.  And  I  want  to  hear  you  tell  him,"  he  said  with  satisfaction.       She  looked  up  and  could  not  believe  the  hatred  in  his  eyes.  "Why?"  she  asked   incredulous.       "I  want  to  make  sure  that  it  is  done."       Isabelle  nodded.  Franklin  stood  up  and  walked  out  of  the  room.       She  sat  unable  to  believe  what  had  just  happened.  Why  did  he  hate  her  so  much?   How  could  she  have  hoped  that  he  might  have  come  to  see  her  out  of  concern?  He   had  always  hated  her.       No,  not  always.  She  remembered  when  she  was  little.  She  remembered  him  putting   her  to  bed,  telling  her  stories  of  heroes  long  gone  by;  she  remembered  kindness   from  him.  And  that  is  what  she  had  always  wanted  to  find  in  him  again.  It  surprised   her  that  she  still  harbored  that  hope  until  today.       With  pain,  she  finally  accepted  the  fact  that  her  father  would  never  love  her.  And  it   hurt  to  think  that.  Even  after  all  the  years  it  still  hurt  her.  And  now,  he  was  taking   the  only  thing  she  had  ever  had.  He  had  set  a  price  for  his  silence  and  she  would   gladly  pay  it.       ~~~~~~~~~~     John  turns  toward  Isabelle,  trying  to  control  his  anger.  "Why  are  we  fighting  over   something  like  this?"       She  opened  her  mouth  as  if  to  say  something  but  changed  her  mind.  He  didn't  look   angry  anymore.  They  stood  only  a  few  feet  apart  and  yet  it  seemed  a  great  distance.    

  "What's  wrong  Isabelle?"  He  asked  softly.       She  just  stared  back  at  him  with  the  same  sadness  in  her  eyes  as  in  his.       "What's  happening  to  us?  I  always  thought  we  were  like  one.  I  knew  what  you  felt  by   just  looking  into  your  eyes.  I  can't  tell  anymore.  You're  shutting  me  out."  They  both   stood  miles  away       "I  had  Phillip  move  my  things  to  the  guest  room,"  she  told  him  then  she  turned  and   walked  away.  And,  as  she  walked  away  from  him  he  ran  his  fingers  through  his  hair   in  frustration.       She  was  shutting  him  out  slowly  but  surely.  Every  time  he  came  close  to  her,  she   would  find  some  excuse  to  push  him  away.  At  first,  it  had  been  understandable,  after   all,  she  had  been  sick.  He  had  understood.  But,  as  the  weeks  went  by  he  began  to  feel   the  distance  between  them.       It  had  been  the  little  things  in  the  beginning.  Like  telling  him  not  to  hold  her  too   tight  because  she  was  afraid  of  not  being  able  to  breathe.  Then  it  was  not  having   meals  together  because  of  her  special  diet  it  was  better  for  her  to  dine  earlier.       It  wasn't  so  much  what  she  would  say  but  what  she  didn't  say.  Communication  was   non  existent  lately.  And,  when  he  would  try  to  please  her  she  would  find  some   excuse  to  get  angry  with  him.       He  walked  into  the  library  and  leaned  his  back  against  the  door  as  he  closed  it.   Something  along  the  way  had  gone  wrong  and  he  couldn't  figure  out  what.  He   walked  slowly  towards  the  bar,  poured  himself  a  scotch,  and  drank  it  quickly.  He  did   this  many  times  over.       ~~~~~~~~~~     She  felt  cold.  She  always  felt  cold  lately.  She  wrapped  her  arms  around  herself   protectively  in  a  gesture  of  comfort  as  she  stared  out  the  window.  It  had  started  to   snow  about  an  hour  before.  And,  everything  had  a  cover  of  white.  It  all  seemed  so   beautiful  and  clean.  This  was  something  she  could  have  shared  with  John.  But,  they   shared  nothing  now.  She  had  seen  to  that.  He  had  taken  more  maltreatment  from   her  than  she  would  have  ever  imagined.       At  first  she  knew  it  might  be  because  he  was  afraid  to  upset  her,  after  all  she  had  a   heart  condition.  But,  slowly  he  began  to  notice  the  distance  growing  between  them   and  she  began  to  see  doubt  in  his  eyes.  He  began  to  be  afraid  that  he  would  lose  her.   He  knew  that  things  were  going  from  bad  to  worse  between  them  and  so  he  opted  to   saying  nothing  rather  than  to  upset  her  further.      

He  would  go  into  his  library  and  stay  there  most  of  the  night.  As  the  arguments   became  more  frequent  she  began  to  notice  the  physical  change  in  him.       He  started  to  lose  weight  and  he  started  to  look  tired  all  the  time.  She  had  also   noticed  soon  after  the  Scotch  bottle  in  his  library  was  being  filled  often  by  Phillip.       Once  she  walked  in  as  Phillip  was  filling  the  decanter  and  as  he  finished  pouring,  he   looked  away  in  embarrassment.       She  had  promised  to  love  him  and  she  was  hurting  him  more  than  anyone  ever  had.   She  had  to  put  an  end  to  this  and  she  would.  She  just  didn't  know  how  to  say  the   words.  How  could  she  tell  him  she  didn't  love  him  when  all  she  did  was  long  for   him?       Her  father  wanted  to  witness  her  goodbye.  In  two  days  they  were  to  attend  the   fundraiser  for  an  exhibition  at  the  Whitney  Museum.  She  would  do  it  then.  The   sooner  the  better.  She  would  finally  set  him  free  from  the  exposure  her  father  had   threatened  her  with.       Isabelle  had  stood  in  front  of  the  window  for  a  long  time  in  silence  looking  at  the   snow  as  it  fell  slowly  before  hitting  the  ground.  She  turned  in  shock  as  her  bedroom   door  burst  open  with  a  loud  crash.       "You're  my  wife.  You  belong  in  my  bed  not  here!"  Se  spat  at  her.  He  stumbled  inside   the  room.  She  stared  at  him  in  disbelief.  He  was  drunk,  she  could  smell  the  scotch.  "I   have  waited  and  waited  for  you!  Do  you  know  how  it  hurts  to  want  you?"  He  was   yelling  at  her.       "John  please...."  Was  all  she  could  say  in  a  quiet  voice.       "Please?"  He  yelled  back  in  disbelief  at  her.       He  was  upon  her  instantly.  Holding  her  tightly  to  him  looking  into  her  eyes  in   disbelief  and  anguish.  He  was  pulling  her  closer  to  him  and  his  mouth  was  on  her   mouth  demanding  a  response.       He  had  wanted  her  for  so  long  that  all  he  could  see  at  this  moment  was  his  need  for   her.  The  more  she  tried  pushing  him  away  the  more  he  wanted  her.  His  hands   moved  aggressively  over  her  body.       She  began  to  whimper  out  of  frustration.  He  was  allowing  only  his  passion  for  her  to   guide  him.  He  scooped  her  up  and  within  the  batting  of  an  eyelash  she  felt  the  bed   under  her  and  Johns  body  on  her.      

"No!"  she  kept  saying  as  she  was  fighting  him.  He  got  angry  and  grabbed  the  front  of   her  dress  and  tore  it  exposing  her  breasts.  His  mouth  descended  on  one  of  her   nipples  and  she  gasped  from  the  pain.       This  was  not  the  man  she  loved  but  the  man  she  had  created  and  she  began  to  sob.   Her  crying  reached  him  as  her  words  had  not  and  he  got  off  her.       John  sat  on  the  bed  next  to  her  not  believing  what  he  had  done  or  what  he  wanted  to   do.  All  he  could  hear  was  her  crying.  He  closed  his  eyes.       "I'm  sorry...I'm  sorry...This  will  never  happen  again."  Was  all  he  said  before  he  got   up  and  walked  out  closing  what  remained  of  the  door  behind  him.  He  walked  out   never  looking  at  her  once.  Isabelle  cried  herself  to  sleep.       It  was  all  coming  to  an  end.  She  cried  herself  to  sleep  dreaming  of  what  might  have   been.       ~~~~~~~~~~     He  was  filled  with  a  feeling  of  such  joy.  It  had  been  so  long  since  she  had  touched   him.  She  was  touching  him!  His  eyes  closed  in  disbelief  and  inhaled  slowly  with  such   desire  that  it  made  his  body  shake.  He  pulled  her  to  him  suddenly.  They  were  both   surrounded  in  a  veil  of  desire.       "No...shhhhh..."  she  whispered  with  her  finger  on  his  lips.       Isabelle  took  him  by  the  hand  and  walked  him  slowly  to  the  bed.  Her  hands  began  to   unbutton  his  shirt.  His  hands  tried  to  do  the  same  to  her  but  she  stopped  him  and   shook  her  head.  He  let  her  have  her  way.       This  was  a  part  of  Isabelle  he  had  never  seen  before  and  he  was  both  intrigued  and   excited.  She  undressed  him  slowly  then  asked  him  to  lie  down.  All  he  could  do  was   stare  in  raw  excitement.  Isabelle  then  stood  before  him  and  started  to  undress   slowly.  John  could  hardly  control  his  desire  for  her.       "Come  my  Isabelle  before  I  go  insane."  He  said  ardently  extending  his  hand  to  her.   She  shook  her  head.  And  quite  suddenly  surprised  him  by  quickly  mounting  him.     His  hands  automatically  went  to  cup  her  breasts.  She  grabbed  them  and  pinned   them  over  his  head.  She  reached  for  something  under  the  pillow.  She  tied  his  left   hand  to  the  post  of  the  bed  and  proceeded  to  tie  the  other.       This  was  not  the  woman  he  had  expected  and  the  idea  of  knowing  her  all  over  again   filled  him  with  even  more  desire  for  her.  This  was  not  his  wife,  not  the  woman  he   knew  at  all.  And  yet  this  was  Isabelle.  She  was  trying  to  seduce  him  and  although  he  

felt  a  bit  uncomfortable  with  this  game  he  would  have  done  anything  to  have  her  in   his  bed  again.       Her  lips  teased  his  and  her  tongue  traced  his  lips.  Her  breasts  were  rubbing  against   his  chest  and  a  grunt  escaped  his  throat.  Quite  suddenly  she  sat  up  and  slapped  him   across  the  face.  He  stared  at  her  in  disbelief  and  she  slapped  him  again  even  harder.       "Don't  do  that!"  He  yelled.       "Why?  Don't  you  like  it?  It's  part  of  love,"  she  was  saying  in  a  seductive  voice.       Her  mouth  came  to  his  again.  And  this  time  as  she  kissed  him  he  could  feel  her  body   rubbing  up  and  down  on  his.  He  wanted  her  so  much  he  felt  he  would  explode  if  he   didn't  posses  her.  Again  she  lifted  herself  away  from  him  and  slapped  his  face  hard       "What  the  hell  are  you  doing?"  He  yelled.  "Untie  me  right  now!"  He  demanded  and   she  smiled.       "Don't  you  want  me?"  she  asked  in  a  husky  voice.       "You  know  I  do."  Her  hands  caressed  his  face  and  they  traveled  down  his  neck.  She   started  pinching  his  nipples  and  his  body  moved  in  excitement  once  more.  Her   mouth  went  down  to  his  chest  and  her  tongue  traveled  slowly  and  as  her  lips  found   one  nipple  her  fingers  squeezed  the  other.       "Oh  God!  Untie  me  now!  We  don't  have  to  do  this.  Untie  me  darling.  Let  me  make   love  to  you."       She  sat  up  and  smiled.  "You  want  me?"       "Yes!"  Her  hands  went  again  to  his  chest  and  up  to  his  shoulders  suggesting  that   they  would  travel  up  his  arms  to  untie  him.  But  quite  suddenly  they  clenched  up  and   as  they  traveled  downward  he  could  feel  her  nails  cutting  into  his  flesh.       "Enough!"  He  yelled.       She  reached  over  to  the  nightstand  for  the  champagne  glass  that  was  there  and  her   breast  rubbed  his  lips.  And  just  as  quickly  his  anger  turned  to  desire  again.  She   drank  and  poured  champagne  on  his  scratches.       "AH!"  He  winced  in  pain.  Her  mouth  met  his  and  from  her  lips  the  golden  liquid   rolled  into  his  mouth.  She  had  been  in  control  long  enough.  No  more  games.       He  pulled  hard  with  both  arms  and  the  straps  holding  his  hands  snapped.  He   reached  for  her  and  threw  her  to  the  side  and  just  as  quickly  mounted  her.  She  

fought  him  for  a  moment  before  he  entered  her  and  his  mouth  silenced  her  cries  of   objection.       The  thrusting  motions  of  his  body  both  gave  her  pain  and  incredible  pleasure.  She   had  intended  to  push  him  further  away  from  her  but  her  body  betrayed  her  as  it   began  to  match  the  movements  of  his  own.  And  they  both  took  pleasure  from  the   moment  when  they  came  together  in  a  rush  of  orgasm  after  orgasm.       John  sat  up  in  bed  covered  in  perspiration.  He  was  alone.  It  had  been  a  dream.   Dreaming  of  her  had  become  a  nightmare.  The  estrangement  between  them  was   slipping  into  his  dreams.  Was  he  so  desperate  for  her  that  he  would  do  anything?  His   fingers  went  through  his  hair  in  frustration.  No!  He  could  not  let  this  continue.  He  no   longer  knew  himself.  Would  he  truly  do  anything  to  keep  her?  In  some  ways  he   thought  his  dream  had  been  symbolic  of  his  life.       His  body  wanted  her.  And  somehow  she  had  stopped  needing  him.  How  could  it  all   have  changed  so  quickly.  She  was  torturing  him  in  his  dreams.  John  wiped  his  eyes   and  never  went  back  to  sleep  that  night.  It  had  to  stop;  because  if  it  continued  they   would  both  have  nothing.       ~~~~~~~~~~     John  stood  with  a  glass  filled  with  a  liquid  the  color  of  Amber  in  his  hands.  They   were  going  out  tonight.  He  felt  the  sadness  fill  him  like  never  before.  He  looked   down  at  the  glass  in  his  hand  and  stared  at  it  as  if  it  might  give  him  the  answer  he  so   desperately  seemed  to  be  searching  for.       It  would  be  so  easy  to  let  her  go  he  would  think  trying  to  fool  himself.  But  it  always   came  back  to  the  same  thing.  He  needed  her.  He  loved  her  with  all  that  he  was.  How   could  he  leave  her?  It  would  be  easier  to  stop  breathing.       He  stood  in  his  library  thinking  yet  again  of  how  to  reach  his  Isabelle.  Perhaps   tonight  would  change  things.  He  had  tried  all  else.  In  any  case  he  would  do  this  for   her.  And  if  she  wanted  nothing  else  from  him  then  he  would  let  her  have  her  peace.   Since  she  always  seemed  unhappy  with  him  now.       He  closed  his  eyes  and  he  remembered.  He  remembered  what  it  was  like  to  feel  alive   and  full  of  desire  to  see  and  live  another  day  with  her.  She  had  become  so  much  a   part  of  him  that  he  did  not  know  how  he  would  live  without  her  if  after  tonight  she   no  longer  wanted  him  he  would  accept  it  and  just  walk  away.       Suddenly  a  voice  from  the  past  filled  his  thoughts  and  he  had  to  blink  many  times  to   come  back.       "I'm  ready  if  you  are  John,"  Isabelle  said  from  the  doorway.      

He  turned  around  and  all  his  love  shown  in  his  eyes  as  he  beheld  her.  She  wore  a   dress  the  color  of  rich  dark  Prussian  blue.  Her  shoulders  were  bare  as  the  first  night   he  first  kissed  her.  And  her  hair  was  up  again  in  a  soft  pile.  All  his  senses  came  alive.       She  turned  her  face  away  from  him.  He  understood  the  rejection.       "Good,  let's  get  going,"  he  answered  as  if  he  had  not  felt  the  sting  of  her  rejection  or   the  coldness  that  seemed  to  grow  every  second  between  them.       ~~~~~~~~~~     They  arrived  at  the  gallery,  as  all  others  seemed  to.  As  soon  as  they  walked  into  the   foyer  Whitney  met  them.       "Hi  John-­‐John.  You  look  like  hell,"  she  said  bluntly.       "Too  much  time  in  the  office  lately,"  he  answered  matter  a  factly  as  he  took  his   wife's  coat  and  handed  over  to  the  cloak  attendant.       "Isabelle,  you  should  put  your  foot  down  and  keep  him  home,"  Whitney  said   jokingly.       "John  has  his  own  priorities  these  days,"  she  said  coldly  and  walked  inside  leaving   them  both  standing  in  surprise.       "Everything  okay?"  The  concern  showed  in  Whitney's  question.       "Nothing  is  okay,"  he  answered  and  went  after  his  wife.       Whitney  stood  looking  at  both  of  them  walk  to  opposite  sides  of  the  room.       What  happened?  She  thought  to  herself.  They  were  the  most  in  love  couple  she  had   ever  seen.       They  lost  themselves  in  the  crowd  already  gathered.  Isabelle  looked  around  and   spotted  John  speaking  to  a  few  people  then  she  walked  out  into  the  balcony.       Almost  as  if  by  conjuring  her  father  appeared.       "Tonight,"  was  all  he  said.       "Yes,  tonight.  And  then  it  will  all  be  over,"  Isabelle  said  to  him.       "I  will  never  say  a  word,"  Franklin  hissed.       "Then  after  this  it  will  be  over  between  us."    

  "What  does  that  mean?  Are  you  threatening  me?"  Franklin  spat  at  her.       "No  father,  I  am  finally  saying  good  bye.  I  will  finally  let  you  go,"  she  said  sadly.       Franklin  was  taken  aback.       "I  never  stopped  hoping  that  you  would  love  me.  I  somehow  always  hoped  that  you   would,"  she  said  as  tears  rolled  down  her  face.  "I  used  to  dream  that  you  would  love   me.  Would  it  have  been  so  awful  just  to  love  me?"       Franklin  stared  in  confusion.  For  a  moment  he  remembered  the  same  words  spoken   from  the  same  face.  He  shook  his  head  and  walked  away;  putting  some  distance   between  them.       "You  loved  me  once,"  Isabelle  said  softly       "You  took  my  son  away  from  me,"  he  finally  said  with  his  back  to  her.       "Father..."       "Just  do  what  I  asked  for  and  I  will  keep  my  word,"  he  insisted.       After  a  few  minutes  Franklin  turned  around  only  to  find  himself  alone  in  the   balcony.       ~~~~~~~~~~     "Ms  Strassbourg,"  John  said  with  a  smile.       "Margot,  please,"  she  smiled  nervously.       "I  see  Isabelle,  will  you  wait  here  for  a  moment?"       "John  I  have  waited  a  lifetime.  I  can  wait  a  few  more  minutes..but  only  a  few."  Her   smile  wavered.       "Only  a  few.  I  promise."  He  squeezed  her  hand  and  walked  over  to  Isabelle.       Margot  followed  him  with  her  eyes.  Her  eyes  were  suddenly  filled  with  what  they   sought.  Her  eyes  welled  up  with  tears.       ~~~~~~~~~~     "John,"  Isabelle  said  sadly.  "Can  you  give  me  a  moment?"      

"Yes,  of  course."       "On  the  balcony?"       "All  right,"  he  said,following  her  out.       "Aren't  you  cold  out  here?"  He  said  as  he  came  out  behind  her.       She  pushed  him  away  and  took  a  few  steps  towards  the  rail.       "John,  I'm  going  back  to  Spain,"  she  said  simply  without  looking  at  him.       He  had  expected  something  of  the  kind  but  was  somehow  not  prepared  for  the   impact  of  the  words.       She  turned  towards  him.       "I  think  that  this  is  not  working.  What  we  had  was  good  for  awhile.  But  now..."  she   trailed  off.       "I  can  go  with  you..."  he  suggested  knowing  that  she  would  turn  him  down.       She  said  nothing  and  he  turned  away  from  her.       "When  did  it  happen?"  He  said  softly       "What?"  She  asked  suspiciously.       "When  did  you  stop  loving  me?"  Still  he  did  not  look  at  her.       "I...John,  I'm  sorry,"  was  all  that  she  allowed  herself  to  say.  "One  day,  I  hope  you   forgive  me."       "Isabelle,  When?"  He  faced  her  now.  He  wasn't  going  to  let  her  go  without  a  fight.       "John  please...don't."  She  turned  away  from  him.       "I  know  I  made  mistakes.  You're  breaking  my  heart,"  he  finally  said.  "How  could  you   just  stop  loving?  You  said  forever  Isabelle!  I  believed  you!  You  said  forever!"  He  was   angry  now.       She  faced  him  with  all  the  strength  she  had  left  over.  "I  don't  love  you  anymore.  I'm   sorry!"  She  spat  out.       The  silence  stood  between  them  like  a  wall  of  ice.      

"I'm  sorry..."  Isabelle  whispered.       "There  is  one  last  thing...and  I  will  not  bother  you  again."       John  turned  around  and  walked  out  leaving  her  alone  as  she  barely  held  back  calling   him.       Franklin  walked  out  of  the  shadows.       Isabelle's  arms  went  around  her  body  protectively  as  a  sob  escaped  her  lips.       "Now,  leave  me  alone,"  she  cried.       "You  did  the  right  thing,"  Franklin  said  staring  at  the  trembling  young  woman.       "For  you  father?  For  me?  For  John?"  She  asked  now  facing  him.  "I  forgave  you   everything  ...but  not  this.  Because,  you  not  only  hurt  me  but  you  hurt  him."       "I  don't  care  if  you  forgive  me  or  not."  Franklin  turned  and  came  face  to  face  with   Margot  and  John.       He  stared  at  the  ghost  that  had  haunted  him  most  of  his  adult  life.       "Margot..."  he  said  out  loud.       She  walked  past  him  towards  Isabelle.       "You  are  beautiful,"  Margot  said  lovingly.       Franklin  stared  in  silence.  John  stood  waiting  both  relieved  because  of  what  he  had   heard  a  few  moments  before  but  also  concerned  on  how  Isabelle  would  accept  this   new  development.       Isabelle  stared  in  confusion  than  in  surprise.  The  woman  that  stood  in  front  of  her   looked  so  much  like  her.       "Margot..."  Franklin  said  again.  "How?'       Margot  turned  and  faced  him  with  all  the  anger  she  had  held  for  a  lifetime.  "Never,   ever  come  close  to  my  child  again.  If  you  do  I  will  kill  you,"  she  said  emotionally.       He  was  taken  aback.       "Margot,  you  should  thank  me..."  he  began  to  say.      

"Thank  you?  For  ripping  away  all  that  I  loved?  You  took  my  son  away  from  me   Franklin.  I  loved  you!  And  you  became  my  worst  nightmare,"  she  said  as  tears  of   anger  rolled  down  her  face.       Isabelle  listened  and  stared  in  confusion.       "He  is  an  abomination.  Something  not  normal!"  Franklin  persisted.       "He  is  my  child  Franklin.  My  child.  The  one  that  I  created  in  love  and  wanted;  the   one  that  you  stole  from  me.  How  could  you  have  been  such  a  monster  and  I  not  seen   it?"  She  asked  and  he  simply  stared  in  silence.       Margot  turned  towards  Isabelle  again.       "I  wanted  you.  I  thought  that  you  had  died  so  many  years  ago.  If  I  had  thought  for   one  moment  that  you  were  alive  I  would  never  have  stopped  trying  to  reach  you.   You  must  believe  that.  I  love  you.  I  have  loved  you  and  wanted  to  hold  you  since  you   were  first  put  in  my  arms,"  Margot  said  as  tears  rolled  down  her  face.       Isabelle  looked  towards  John  who  smiled  and  nodded.  And  at  that  moment  she  knew   that  this  was  his  doing.       "John  found  me  and  told  me.  Please....  please  let  me  be  a  part  of  your  life  Isabelle.  I   won't  ask  for  too  much.  I  just  want  to  love  you.  Please  let  me  love  you,  my  sweet   sweet  child."  Margot  cried  openly  as  she  poured  her  heart  to  her  daughter.       "No!"  Franklin  jumped  in.  He  went  to  grab  Isabelle  and  found  Margot  in  his  way.       "If  you  come  near  her  again  I  will  kill  you.  Nothing  in  this  world  will  stop  me  from   ending  your  miserable  life,"  Margot  said  to  him  coldly.       Franklin  took  a  step  back.       "I  loved  you  Margot.  You  had  no  right  to  humiliate  me.  Did  you  think  I  would  let  you   just  go?"       "Franklin,  you  took  my  son!"       "He  was  all  I  had  of  you!"  Franklin  yelled.  Silence  filled  the  emptiness.       "You  never  knew  what  love  was  and  I  was  a  fool  to  think  I  could  show  you,"  Margot   said  sadly.       "You  won.  The  joke  was  on  me.  Looking  at  him  become  more  like  you  each  and   every  day."  Franklin  looked  at  Isabelle  now.  "The  joke  was  on  me."      

"You  had  a  gift  Franklin.  And  you  wasted  it."       "A  gift!  That  is  a  gift!  That  abomination!"       Isabelle  visibly  flinched.       John  walked  over  quickly  and  took  Isabelle  into  his  arms.       "You  had  a  woman  who  loved  you  and  a  beautiful  child  that  always  loved  you  no   matter  how  horrible  you  were,"  Margot  said  finally  also  putting  her  own  demons  to   rest.  "You  had  it  all  Franklin  and  you  just  threw  it  away."       "Margot..."  he  said  again.       "I  don't  regret  you...if  I  did  I  wouldn't  have  my  child.  My  baby  was  worth  it  all.  And   now  go  away  Franklin.  I  have  years  to  catch  up  on  and  you  are  not  going  to  stop  us   being  together  anymore."       Margot  turned  towards  Isabelle  again.       "I'm  your  mother  and  I  love  you.  I  have  always  loved  you.  I  love  you  now...Isabelle   please....  please."  She  opened  her  arms  and  they  were  suddenly  filled.       Isabelle  cried  into  the  arms  that  she  had  always  dreamt  of.  Margot  held  her  lovingly   and  as  she  caressed  her  hair  kissed  the  head  of  her  child  finally  in  her  arms.       "I  love  you  Isabelle,  I  love  you,"  Margot  kept  repeating  over  and  over.       John  suddenly  emerged  from  the  union  of  the  two  women  like  a  looming  darkness   and  Franklin  walked  back  into  the  crowd  and  disappeared.       John  looked  back  at  the  two  women  still  holding  each  other  and  smiled.       So  many  wounds...finally  we  will  all  begin  to  heal  and  Isabelle  will  finally  be  happy   at  last.       ~~~~~~~~~~     How  had  it  all  happened?  When  had  it  all  escaped  him?  He  had  not  been  able  to  let  it   go.  When  he  walked  out  of  that  balcony  that  night  he  had  still  not  had  enough.       Franklin  knew  that  soon  after  John  and  Isabelle  had  left  for  Spain.  He  hired  people  to   follow  them  and  take  photos  on  and  off.  He  knew  where  they  were  all  the  time.       For  a  moment  he  actually  considered  paying  someone  to  kill...to  kill  his  child?      

His  wife  had  left  him  months  ago.       And  that  afternoon  when  he  received  the  latest  update  he  could  only  stare.  The   video  he  had  put  into  the  machine  showed  a  child's  birthday  party.  So  colorful  and   so  much  laughter.  He  recognized  John  and  Isabelle  and  the  small  child  that  they  held   between  them  and  there  was  Margot  as  well.  They  were  all  laughing  and  full  of  joy.       And  at  that  moment  he  realized  that  they  could  have  been  his  ....his  wife....his   child....he  could  have  been  part  of  their  joy  once.  When  had  he  lost  it  all?  He   remembered  all  the  times  and  all  things  he  had  done  to  them  and  closed  his  eyes.       Franklin  then  opened  a  side  drawer  and  pulled  out  a  photo  and  touched  it  lightly.  "I   did  love  you  once...I  love  you  still,"  was  all  he  said.  "I  won't  hurt  you  anymore."   Never  looking  away  from  the  photograph  he  pulled  the  gun  out  of  the  drawer  put  it   to  his  temple  and  pulled  the  trigger.       The  sound  of  the  explosion  filled  the  room.  Then  the  room  was  filled  with  laughter   as  the  video  kept  playing.  John,  Isabelle,  Margot  and  the  child  they  were  raising   together.  They  were  happy  and  joyous.       And  after  a  few  moments  an  odd  silence  and  all  that  was  heard  was  the  noise  of  the   television  tape  buzzing;  the  tape  had  reached  its  end  and  all  that  was  now  seen  was   the  blue  screen.       That's  how  the  police  found  him  later  that  day.  All  that  the  man  held  onto  was  the   photo  of  a  beautiful  young  woman  smiling.       The  End.           So,  you  read  the  story.  Write  S.  Anne  Gardner  and  let  her  know  what  you  think.           Love  In  Grey  Shadows  (c)copyright  January  2001  to  S.  Anne  Gardner       This  is  a  work  of  fiction.  Names,  characters,  places,  and  incidents  either  are  the   product  of  the  author's  imagination  or  are  used  fictitiously.  Any  resemblance  to   events,  persons,  living  or  dead,  is  entirely  coincidental.           The  Athenaeum's  Scroll  Archive