THE AFFAIR (38 page)

“He was not ill,” Blaine continued. “He had a long life ahead of him. He willed himself to die. Being without one parent was hell. To lose them both was unbearable.”

Blaine stood and walked over to Chance. “I hope I never have to go through that again.”

I watched while father and son participated in a silent communication. Blaine would see to it that Chance would make it through.

The rest of our time together went so fast that it was almost as if we’d just begun. We each wore the jewelry Blaine had bought for us, for seven hours each. Then our twenty-four hours were up. It was noon. In unison, the three of us turned toward the grandfather clock as it chimed out the end of our time together.

“Dimi, I know I have to let you go. I know what the vision means, but it’s so damn hard.”

I watched Chance through the tears in my eyes. He was trying so hard to be brave, but the look of betrayal on his face remained.

“Dimi, give me just a few more hours, please. The time went by so fast.” He attempted to smile. “Surely a few more hours will not affect our future.”

“What are we having for lunch?” I asked. The time was up, but I wasn’t ready. I wanted more and like Chance, I wondered what it would hurt. I was more than willing to take a few more hours for this family I’d found.

Without missing a beat Blaine answered, “Anything you want for lunch you can have.”

For the next several hours we talked, laughed, told stories, everything we could think of to put a lifetime of living in such a short amount of time.

It seemed only minutes later that the clock was striking seven
P.m
. It seemed impossible for that much time to have passed.

It was time for me to leave. I’d gone way past the agreed upon twenty-four hours. I stood at last, smiling at them and walked over to the box containing my chair.

“Chance, I don’t have anywhere…”

Blaine stopped me. “I’ll keep it until you…” He glanced at Chance. “Until you find a place to live.” No one wanted to admit that in time I would be going home. No, it would not be tonight, or tomorrow, but it would happen.

I walked toward the door not wanting to touch either of them, no last embrace, no hugs, just yank, the same way you did with bandages to make it quick and painless.

I willed my body to keep moving toward the door, but it refused to obey. My head swiveled around. Chance was standing there watching me. I saw the agony in his eyes, the same agony I’d seen in Jeremy when Dimitra was about to die.

“Don’t come outside,” I whispered to him before running out the door and to my car. It was over, done. I felt like hell, yet there was a knowing that what I was doing was right.

I surprised myself that I was able to drive to the hotel without bawling like a baby. The constant threat of tears I kept away by ordering up the images of Larry and Erica as an infant. That moment in time was the reason I was able to sever my love for Chance. I had to complete my life as it was meant to be.

An hour later I lay on the bed numb from the emotional havoc I’d put my body through. I knew that I should begin making plans for home, but I couldn’t think.

I didn’t know how to get Larry to listen to me when he never had. But I knew I wasn’t as ready as I thought to give up on him, on us. I would have to find a way, just not now. I was too tired.

I heard a knock on the door and a voice calling my name. I opened the door to Chance.

How was I to ever end this if I kept seeing him? Didn’t he know it was hard enough to leave him? Didn’t he have any idea what he was doing to me? I looked in his eyes. Didn’t he know he was prolonging his own pain?

Chance came into the room closing the door behind him. “I forgot to give you this.” He held out a small package. I took it, opened the bag and took out the tape. It was Stevie Wonder.

“It’s the only song I know that says I’ll love you for a million years.’” Chance’s voice broke. “I will, Dimi, I’ll love you for a million years.”

“Chance,” I moaned, “don’t.”

It was too late. I was in his arms holding him, knowing we’d already had too many last hugs, last embraces, and last kisses.

Still I clung to him, feeling his lips, tasting him, loving him. He kissed me softly, slowly, deeply, not with the fevered pitch of passion, but like a man trying to fill his senses with what he was losing.

He was the one who broke away. “I had to hold you one last time.”

“I know,” I answered. I ran my hands over his face, over the long strands of his hair that he’d allowed to grow. “I know.”

He backed out of the room leaving me there in tears. I fell on the bed. This was never meant to happen. I should not have met Chance, not known that he existed in my heart, or was connected to my soul. I lay there with my heart breaking.

“You’ve been crying. You thought I was him. You sure as hell didn’t think it was me. I heard you call his name. Now please tell me what it looks like.”

“Larry, I didn’t know you were coming.”

He laughed a harsh angry sound. “You didn’t know that I was coming. I’m sorry. Forgive me if I didn’t make an appointment.”

I saw him looking around the room. I knew he was looking for evidence that I’d just made love. God, I was grateful I had my clothes on. Still, that didn’t seem to matter to Larry.

“How many more have there been, Mick, how many men?”

“Larry, listen to me, please. There’s never been anyone else. I’ve tried to tell you. This wouldn’t have happened except with Chance, only with him.”

Larry was advancing toward me. “You think that’s going to make me feel better?”

“I know him, Larry. I was married to him.” Larry swept the glasses off the small table.

“Stop it, Mick, I don’t want to hear this nonsense. Do you think you’re the only one who’s been hit on since we got married? Do you think that you’re the only woman I could have slept with?

“There have been dozens of women, dozens of them, who have come on to me, who wanted to go to bed with me. I said no. I was never tempted, not once.

“I thought I was married to the most wonderful woman in the world. We’d made promises to each other, promises to love each other always. Not once, Mick. Not one damn time did I ever think of cheating on you.”

“I was married to him, Larry.”

Now that excuse sounded crazy even to me, but it was the truth.

“I don’t care,” Larry shouted, his voice getting louder and louder. “I’m only interested in this life here and now, our life. In this life, you’re married to me, not him. Me, Mick. And what you did is called adultery in this time period. You’ve been whoring around and I’m expected to accept it, to say, ‘Oh well, he’s my wife’s husband from her past life.’

“That’s bullshit, Mick. That’s bullshit and you and I both know it. If I’d given you this load of crap, you would have filed for divorce before the words were out of my mouth.”

Larry stopped. There was that damn pain again. He looked at his wife. His Mick. He’d come there with such hopes, only to have them dashed in his face. He wasn’t the one she wanted, the one she’d been waiting for. She’d been waiting for Chance. He’d heard her clearly.

For a moment the words froze in his throat. He could think only of the pain that was rapidly enveloping his entire body.

He was fighting for every breath, his jaw tightening now as never before. The elephant was back sitting on his chest, only this time he had brought a trainload of friends.

He gasped, saw the instant concern cross Mick’s face. Oh God no. This wasn’t supposed to happen. The last thing he wanted was for her to see him have a stress attack.

The pain increased, bringing him to his knees.
Damn,
Larry thought,
this is not a stress attack, this is the real deal. I’m having a heart attack
. Another wave of pain shot through him with the speed of a bullet ripping through flesh. He fell and his world went black.

One minute Larry was standing in front of me. The next, something was happening to him. I saw him pause in front of me, his mouth opening and closing, no words coming out. I watched his red angry face suddenly turn a pasty gray. I saw him clutch his chest a second before he fell to the floor.

“Larry,” I screamed out at him, dropping to my knees beside him. “Oh God, Larry. It wasn’t what you thought. I was coming home. I love you.”

Think, Michelle, think. It will be time for that later.
I ran to the phone guided by the clear thinking voice in my head giving the orders.

“This is room 915. My husband just had a heart attack. Get someone up here fast.”

I ran to open the door, screaming out for help to anyone that might be listening.

I ran back to Larry’s side, trying to remember the CPR I’d taken several years before. Oh God, I couldn’t remember. Was it five compressions and two breaths, five breaths and fifteen compressions? Ten? What? I couldn’t remember.

I just began breathing air into Larry’s mouth, trying not to think. Then I’d do compressions, no idea of how many of either I was doing. I only knew that I kept shouting to him to breathe.

I heard the clang of the elevator and running feet.
Thank God
, I thought, as I continued to breathe into Larry’s lungs. With the next compression, I was sure he was breathing, but I refused to stop until the stretcher arrived in the room.

I backed off as they began working on Larry, checking his vital signs, starting an IV, giving him oxygen, asking me if Larry had any allergies and relaying all the information by phone to the hospital, I assumed. When they spoke of my husband’s condition, to me it was all jargon, code. Then they picked up Larry’s limp body and moved it to the stretcher. His head lolled to the side, but yes, there it was. His chest was moving up and down on its on.

I raced behind the stretcher. “Which hospital are you taking him to?” I screamed, pushing my way onto the elevator they were trying desperately to keep me off of.

“Ma’am, we’re taking him to Edward hospital, but you have to follow in your car.” I saw them eyeing me warily. “Maybe you should call someone to bring you. You shouldn’t drive alone.”

Hell no!
I raced from the elevator and to my car. I would not wait in a hotel for someone to take me to my husband, no damn way. I thought of Viola. I would be there with Larry. Nothing would keep me from him, not even my own panic. I commanded my body to calm down.

I was out of the parking lot and roaring down the street before the ambulance. I had to pull over to allow it to pass. “Come on, come on, move it, move it,” I shouted to the vehicle. “That’s my husband you have in there.”

I grabbed for my cell phone. “Oh God, Blaine, Larry’s had a heart attack. He’s on his way to Edward’s. Do you think you could meet me there? I’m so scared.”

“Of course. Michelle, be careful. He’s going to be alright.”

I hung up the phone and began praying, remembering Chance’s words from earlier in the day when he thought I was sleeping. “God, please save Larry. I have to tell him how much I love him.

I was in the emergency room only seconds behind the ambulance. Blaine was in there when I ran through the door, stopping me and holding me back from getting in the way. I wondered how he’d gotten there so fast, but didn’t ask. I was only grateful that he’d come.

“Blaine,” I cried out, wanting to dissolve into tears, wanting to faint. Anything to escape what was happening. “It’s all my fault.”

I looked up from Blaine’s chest to see Chance running down the hall. No God, no, not Chance. I ran to him, putting out my hands to stop him.

“Not you, Chance, get another doctor. I don’t want you taking care of my husband. I heard you talking to Blaine. I want my husband to live.”

For what seemed an eternity, Chance stared at me. He lifted my chin so I was looking into his eyes. Then he caught my wrists in his strong grip.

“Dimi, look at me,” he ordered. “If you want Larry to live, you want the best. You want me. Now I don’t have time to argue and convince you. You have to trust me.”

He let go and continued running toward the cubicle into which Larry had disappeared. “I’ll take care of him, Dimi,” he shouted as he ran.