“Why stop now?” he whispered, and she laughed, as he kissed her again.

“I'm trying to remember,” she said, feeling guilty, but enjoying it anyway. And there was something very odd about feeling guilty with him. After all, he was still her husband. But Brock had made such a fuss about him. And it wasn't right for them to be kissing. She was involved with Brock, and she and Sam were divorcing.

“I love you,” he whispered, and she suddenly drew back from him, as though she realized it could go no further. She didn't want anyone to get hurt, or to let Sam hurt her again. But at the look in her eyes, he pulled her closer, and felt her heart pounding against his. And this time, when he kissed her, it wasn't gentle. It was urgent. In two days he would be leaving for decades, and he would never hold her again, and they both knew it. Gently he unbuttoned her coat and dropped it on a chair behind her, as she reminded herself to resist him. And then ever so carefully, he ran a hand up her right side, feeling the familiar breast that had nursed his daughter. He was careful not to touch the left, and then his hands touched her, he looked startled and she smiled at him, amused at his surprise over the implant.

“It grew back,” she said wickedly, and he looked embarrassed. It felt surprisingly realistic and he wondered when she'd done it.

“Why didn't you tell me?” he reproached gently and then kissed her again.

“It was none of your business,” she said softly, excited by him, and not wanting to be. And he wanted her desperately, not just for old times' sake, but for the present.

They were slowly, deliberately, unbuttoning each other's clothes, and she felt frightened as she did it. Their attraction to each other was irresistible and relentless, and there was no stopping what they were feeling.

“You're beautiful.” He pulled away and looked at her, and slowly unbuttoned her blouse and her skirt, and she let her clothes fall to the ground around her. In some ways, she knew she was crazy to do this. But he was going away for a long time, and she loved him. It was a way of saying good-bye, of letting go, of telling him how much she had once loved him, but she knew that they would never have a future. This was all they had now.

“I love you, Sam,” she said simply.

“I love you too … so very, very much….” He could barely speak, he was so excited. He wanted her one last time and then he had promised himself he would let go of her forever. He had no right to ruin her life. He had done enough. He wanted only this last gift from her, and it was obvious as they kissed that, in spite of all her warnings to herself, she wanted it as much as he did. She thought of nothing as she clung to him, except how much she had always loved him.

They made love quietly, and there was a certain peace and beauty to it. It was something they had both wanted for a long time, and hadn't dared to acknowledge. There was passion and comfort and forgiveness. They felt as though they belonged in each other's arms, and they lay there afterwards, knowing it would never happen again, but they would long remember.

“I loved you so much,” she said, as she looked at him.

“So did I,” he said with tears in his eyes, but he was smiling. “I still do. I always will. Not because I'm going to prison, but because I'm a fool and I learned my lessons too late. Be smarter than I was, Allie …don't fuck your life up.”

“You didn't,” she said gently.

“How can you say that now?” he asked softly. “Look at where I'm going day after tomorrow. What a fool I was.” He lay on his back, thinking about all of it, and wishing he could undo it. And then she bent down and kissed him. He looked into her eyes and saw all the tenderness in life there. Brock Stevens was a lucky man. And Sam knew he didn't deserve her. He hoped things worked out for her. The boy was too young. But maybe he'd learn. Maybe he'd be smarter than Sam was.

She wanted to spend the night with him, but she didn't dare. If Annabelle woke up, she'd be upset, and if Brock called, he'd go crazy. He knew she was out with Sam, and he was frantic about it.

“I should go home,” she said sadly, hating to leave him.

“It's stupid, isn't it?” he said. “We're married and we can't spend the night together.” It was all so ironic. And then he looked at her seriously. There was something else he had to tell her. “I want you to know that I wish I had done things differently. When you got sick, I mean. I was too scared. I couldn't even listen. It's too late now to change any of it, but if I had it to do again, Alex, I'd be there. I don't think I'd be good at it, not as good as your friend was. But I'll never forgive myself for not being there for you. I learned a terrible lesson.” He had lost his wife over it, and chased after a falling star named Daphne, all because he'd been afraid and was running away from his mother.

“I know how frightened you were,” she said, forgiving him for the pain he had caused her. He really did sound as though he'd learned something from it.

“You can't even begin to know how frightened I was. I was crazed. I couldn't even see you. All I saw was my mother. I was such a damn fool,” he said, holding her, as she tried not to remember.

“I know,” she said softly. “Things work out strangely sometimes,” she said philosophically, willing to accept what was, rather than what had been. She knew he was sorry. There was no point tormenting him over what had happened, though Brock would have been incensed that she forgave him. He would have been incensed over many things. But this wasn't his night, it was hers and Sam's, and it was very precious.

He walked her slowly home after that. They lingered, with his arm around her shoulders. And then he kissed her again. They stood that way for ages outside his old house, and she wanted to ask him up, but she knew she couldn't. They couldn't go on clinging to the past. They had to let go now. At least they were leaving each other something warm to remember.

“Thank you,” she whispered, as she kissed him for the last time. “I'll see you tomorrow.” He was coming to say good-bye to Annabelle, which was going to be ghastly. Alex had taken his check for their daughter with her, but she had left his check for her on the table at the Carlyle, but he hadn't seen it.

“I love you,” he said for a last time, overwhelmed with how beautiful she was, and how much he loved her. He watched her go inside, and as he walked back to the hotel, there were tears running down his cheeks as he wondered how he could have been so stupid. He had blown his entire life and now he had nothing. No future, and no Alex. It was hardly worth living.

And alone in her bed, Alex remembered what it had been like making love to him. It was just like old times, she thought with a smile, only better. They had both learned a lot in the last year, about loving, and forgiveness. She only prayed that, wherever he went, he would be safe, and find something worthwhile to keep him going. She couldn't be there for him now. She owed too much to Brock. And no matter how much she still loved Sam, she knew she had to leave him. But Lord, how she would miss him.





Chapter 23

When Sam came to say good-bye to Annabelle, it almost killed all of them. Sam was fobbing when he left, and Annabelle, and Alex and Carmen were crying. All he had been able to explain to her was that he had worked with some men who had done bad things, and he hadn't paid attention to what they were doing. They had taken people's money, which was wrong, and now he and the bad men had to go to jail to make up for taking the money.

He could have told her that he was going on a long trip. But he didn't. He said that one day she could come to see him, but it wasn't a nice place, and he'd like her to be a little older. He told her to be a good girl, take care of Mommy, and always, always remember how much he loved her. He held her tightly in his arms while they all cried, but no one more than Sam or Alex. Annabelle was confused by what was happening, and she was upset that he was going, and that bad men had taken money. But she had no concept of twenty or thirty years. None of them did. It was beyond them. It simply felt like forever.

Alex walked out to the elevator with him, and clung to him. She had asked Brock not to come until later that evening. And just after he left, she called Sam at the Carlyle.

“Are you all right?” She was worried about him. This was too much for anyone, especially given the minor degree of his involvement. His main sin had been letting it happen.

“I'm okay. I didn't think I could ever leave her. I didn't think I could leave you either.” But he had, and now he knew what it was like to die. He felt like he'd already done it. He had nothing else to lose now.

“I'll be there tomorrow,” she said, wishing she could be there that night. But it didn't seem wise to do that again. After one night together, they both already felt as though they were still married and belonged together. And that would only complicate things for both of them. She had Brock, and he had to go away. There was no point dragging it out now.

But she still felt as though she belonged to Sam, as she talked to him, or stood next to him. All the old bonds had been re-formed in a single moment, and it wasn't fair to either of them. It would just make it harder for both of them when he left tomorrow. And he knew it too. He didn't ask her to come over. Making love to her again had reminded him of how much he loved her, and wanted to protect her. And leaving her now was going to be even more painful.

“I'll see you in court,” he said lightly, elegant to the end, Alex thought as she hung up, thinking about him again. And by the time Brock came by that night, they were all still very upset, even Carmen. Annabelle had cried herself to sleep, despite all of Alex's efforts to console her. And Alex didn't feel like eating dinner or talking.

“Christ, I'll be glad when this is over with,” Brock said tartly, and his tone annoyed her. It was like waiting for an execution and it seemed ghoulish to Alex.

“So will I. I don't think any of us are enjoying it, not even Sam,” Alex said curtly. Why couldn't he be more understanding? He had nothing to fear from Sam now.

“He's the one who created this mess,” Brock pointed out tersely, “let's not forget that.”

“I don't think that's entirely true. Aren't you overlooking the facts here?”

“Oh give it up, Alex. The guy's a crook, whether or not he's your husband.” He made her want to scream as she listened to him. He was so worried he was going to lose Alex to Sam, all he wanted was for the guy to go to jail as soon as possible. For Brock, it was the best news of the year, and there were times when she hated him for it.

Eventually, they argued for so long, that he decided not to spend the night with her again, but before he left, they got into another argument over her going to court with Sam the next morning.

“I want to be there when they sentence him,” she explained as though he were retarded.

“Is that like going to the guillotine with someone?” he said nastily, and he set her off again. But the real heart of it came up a few minutes later. “What if he doesn't go, Alex? Then what? Is he back in the picture?”

“Why do you hound me about this all the time? You're obsessed with him. What do I know what would happen?”

“You're still in love with him,” he accused.

“I'm in love with you,” she tried to reason with him, but he didn't want to hear it.

“But you're in love with him too, aren't you?”

“Brock, stop it!” she screamed, no longer caring if she woke Annabelle or Carmen. “I love you. You've been there for me when no one else was. If you got me through the last year. I would have died without you. Isn't that enough for you? Do you have to wipe out my whole past just to prove I love you? He's the father of my child. He's the man I married. He hurt me terribly. It's over. And he's going away now. That's the best I can do. I can't tell you what would happen if he stayed. But it doesn't matter anyway, he's not staying.”

“I can tell you what would happen if he did,” he said darkly, and she shook her head in despair. This was gruesome.

“You're destroying us while you're trying to destroy him. Stop, before you kill us, Brock. Please …don't do this.” She was crying then, for him, for herself, for Sam, for Annabelle, for all of them, all those who had suffered, even his sister.

“If he stays, I'm going back to Illinois.” It was the first she had heard of it, but she suddenly realized how tormented he must have been to make plans like that without her.