‘That's a chance we both take every day. We always have. You taught me that. If this is what we want, we have to have the guts to live with that. And each let the other do what they have to.” It was a high price to pay for loving someone, but they had always been willing to do that.

“And afterward?” He still worried about all that, but she had crossed those bridges long since, and she wouldn't have cared anyway if he'd had absolutely nothing.

“Afterward, we go home, my father retires eventually, and he gives us the airport. And if we live in a shack because that's all you've got, so be it. I don't care, and if we do, we'll change it.” This time he didn't argue with her. This time he knew it was enough for both of them. They had had more, and less, in their lives, and it didn't matter to them. All they needed was what they had, each other, and a sky to fly in.

He kissed her gently, and afterward she looked into the autumn sky and smiled, remembering the hours they'd spent in his old Jenny. She reminded him of her first loops and spins, and he laughed.

“You used to scare the pants off me.”

‘The hell I did… you told me I was a natural.” She pretended to be insulted as they stood up and he walked her slowly toward her barracks. They had resolved a lot that morning.

“I just said that because I was in love with you.” He laughed happily, feeling like a kid again. She did that to him. She always had.

“No, you didn't. You weren't in love with me then,” she argued with a broad smile, wondering if he had been.

“Yes, I was.” He looked happy and at ease and young. And he felt immeasurable pride as he walked along with her.

“Really?”

They laughed and talked and teased like children. Suddenly, life was very simple. She had done what she had come here to do. She had found him, and everything he had always been to her. She was home at last. They both were.

Danielle Steel

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