The House on Hope Street - By Danielle Steel Page 0,76

Everest to climb, and she had been climbing for eleven months now.

“I'm sorry, Liz. I can't do this. I've thought about it, and I don't know what happened to me. I think I went kind of crazy for a while. I met you and fell in love with you, and your family looks so wholesome from the outside, and you were so vulnerable, I just fell into it like a trap. But it's not me, and I want out now.” Her eyes opened brusquely and she stared into the darkness as she listened.

“What are you saying to me?” But she knew. He had already made it clear, she just didn't want to hear it.

“I'm saying that I made a mistake, and it's over. I love you, and your kids are great. But I just can't do it. Megan did us all a big favor today. It could have taken us months or even years to see it this clearly. I had blinding clarity after I left. I went running, and it all came clear to me. I was insane for awhile, but now I'm not … Liz … I'm sorry … but it's over.” She couldn't even find words to say to him. She lay there feeling as though someone had hit her in the chest and knocked the wind out of her. She was speechless. And all she could think of were the waves of panic that had engulfed her when Jack died. And now she was losing Bill. She had barely had time to get used to him, to let him into her heart, but he was lodged there in spite of it, and now he was prying himself out. It was over. In one fell swoop, she had lost him. Thank you, Megan.

“Don't you want to think about this for a while?” She tried to reason with him, as she would have one of her children. “You're panicking, and your feelings are hurt. They'll get used to you, you know. All they need is time.”

“There's no point, Liz. This isn't what I want. I see that clearly now. We should both be grateful.” But she wasn't grateful. She was devastated. “I'll call in a few days to see how you are. I'm sorry, I really am, but this is the way it was meant to be. I know it.” How did he know? And what did he know? Two of her daughters had been rude to him, but they were just children, and they missed their father.

“Why don't you just calm down, and we'll talk about it later.”

“There's nothing to talk about.” He sounded panicked.

“I'm out, Liz. I told you, it's over. You have to understand that.” Why? Why did she have to understand everyone else's bad behavior? Why did she have to make excuses for him and her children? Why did she have to be the one who lost every time? They had lost too, but she had lost even more than they had.

“I love you,” she said clearly, as tears began to choke her.

“You'll get over it. So will I. I don't need another divorce, and you don't need another headache. You have enough without me. Just tell the kids to relax, the moron is out of their lives. They can celebrate now.” He sounded bitter and angry and like a petulant child, but she couldn't reach him.

“Jamie loves you, and so does Peter. What am I supposed to tell them?”

“That we made a mistake, and we realized it before it was too late. It'll be a relief to them, and to us too one day. I'm going to hang up now, Liz. There's nothing left to say. Good-bye.” He said it with such finality that it took her breath away, and he hung up before she could even answer.

She lay holding the receiver in the dark, and she was crying when she set it down. She couldn't believe what had just happened. Just like that. He'd had “blinding” clarity and it was over. “Blinding” seemed to be the operative word here. And she wanted to shake him. But she wasn't even angry at him, she was just devastated. And this time, when she cried herself to sleep that night, it was for Bill, and not her husband.

Chapter 11

Liz dragged herself through the next few days, after the Thanksgiving fiasco, and she didn't say anything to anyone about Bill walking out on her after Thanksgiving, not even to Victoria when they spoke on the phone,