week. She was so perfect in so many ways, she had the right breeding, right background, she was intelligent and fun to be with, gracious, thoughtful, nice to his friends, and made him laugh. He loved making love to her, in fact there was nothing about her he didn't like, which scared him to death. The most terrifying thing about her was that there was no fatal flaw. There had always been one that he could use as an escape hatch. But not this time. He was worried that in the end, he wouldn't want to settle down. And then everyone would get hurt, they always did. He had finally met a woman he didn't want to hurt, nor did he want to be hurt by her. There seemed to be no avoiding it if you got close. He didn't know what to do about it.
“Something's bothering you,” Carole said gently, wanting to know what it was.
He hesitated for a long time and then nodded. He was always honest with her.
“I've been thinking a lot about us.” The way he said it sounded like a death knell, and she was frightened the moment she saw his face. He looked tortured.
“What about?”
He smiled through the cigar smoke again. He didn't want to worry her unduly, but he was concerned. “I keep wondering what two commitment phobics like us are doing together. Someone could get hurt.”
“Not if we're careful of each other's wounds and scars,” and she was. She knew the things that upset him now. Sometimes he just needed space. He had been alone all his life. At times she sensed that he wanted to be alone, and had left the cabin, or left him to his own devices on deck. She tried to be sensitive to his needs.
“What if I never want to get married?” he asked her honestly. He wasn't sure he did. Maybe it was too late. He was almost forty-seven, he wasn't sure he could make the adjustment anymore. After a lifetime of searching for the perfect woman, now that he seemed to have found her, he wondered if he was the right man. Maybe not. He was coming to that conclusion.
“I've been married,” she said calmly. “It wasn't so great.” She smiled sadly.
“You should have children one day.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I have children where I work. Sometimes I think that's enough. When I got divorced, I told myself I'd never get married again. I'm not pushing for marriage, Charlie. I'm happy the way things are.”
“You shouldn't be. You need more,” he said, feeling guilty. He didn't know if he was the man to give it to her, and if he wasn't, he felt he owed it to her to let her go. He had been thinking about it a lot. The great escape. One way or another, in the end, it always came to that.
“Why don't you let me decide what I need? If I have a problem, I'll tell you. For now, I don't.”
“And then what? We break each other's heart later? It's dangerous to just let things drift along.”
“What are you saying, Charlie?” Listening to him, she was scared to death. She was getting more attached to him by the hour, especially after the last week of living with him. He could easily become a habit. And what he was saying was panicking her. He sounded like he was about to bail.
“I don't know,” he said as he put his cigar out in the ashtray. “I don't know what I'm saying. Let's go to bed.” When they did, he made love to her, and they both fell asleep without discussing the matter further.
The next morning came too soon. They had to be up at six, and Charlie was asleep when she got out of bed. She took a shower, and was dressed when he woke up. He lay in bed, looking at her for a long time. For a terrible moment she had the feeling that she was seeing him for the last time. She hadn't done anything wrong on the trip, or been too clingy or too attached. She had just allowed life to take its course. But the look of fear in his eyes was unmistakable, and guilt and regret. Ominous signs.
Charlie got up to see them off. He put on shorts and a T-shirt, and stood on deck watching as they lowered the tender to take them into port. He was going to Anguilla that day, after they left. He kissed