TALL DARK AND HUNGRY Page 0,113

make me crazy."

Terri bit her lip and glanced at Dave, who patted her arm reassuringly. "She's just stressed out with this deadline. She loves you. We both do, and we hate to see you unhappy. You've been so unhappy for so long, Terri. And it's upsetting to see you throw some¬thing good away."

"But he's dying, Dave," Terri complained. "I can't watch that happen again."

"Are you sure he's dying? Do you know for sure? Perhaps it's something chronic, not terminal. Or maybe he's got five to ten good years. Do you want to miss those to avoid six months to a year of hard times? I'm not saying it would be easy at the end, but can't you enjoy the time you do have and not worry so much about what you'll lose?" He added, "You know, Sandi's right. She could walk out the door and die tomorrow. So could I. Or even, you. Even if Bastien is terminally ill, he might outlive you. We can't live on might-bes. Because nothing is set in stone."

Terri lowered her head, her mind running in cir¬cles. Confusion seemed to be the key word for the last day and a half. She was exhausted, and that made it difficult to think.

"You look done in," Dave commented. "Why don't you lie down on the couch and rest a bit? I'll wake you when the tea's ready."

"Yes. I think I'll do that," Terri murmured. "I've been awake for more than twenty-four hours, and more than thirteen of those were spent in airports or airplanes."

"Then you can definitely use the sleep. Have a lie-down." He urged her onto the couch, grabbed one of the fluffy pillows that sat on either end, and settled it under her head. Fetching an afghan off the chair, he laid it over her.

"Thank you," Terri murmured. "Sandi's lucky to have you. And so am I."

"Hmm." Dave cleared his throat and looked un¬comfortable. Shrugging, he muttered that she should sleep, and left her alone.

Terri slept. They didn't wake her for tea, but let her sleep through the night. She woke up at five o'clock the next morning, feeling like a bag of dirt. But a well-rested bag of dirt. Smiling faintly to her¬self, Terri got up and folded the blanket someone had put on her in the night, then folded the afghan as well. She collected fresh clothes from her suitcase and made her way up the stairs to the bathroom, manag¬ing to take a shower without waking the couple asleep just across the hall. Terri dressed, brushed her teeth, and went back downstairs. She fixed herself tea in the kitchen, took it outside, and sat on the picnic table, staring blankly at the wilderness growing there as she considered everything Sandi had said, and everything she herself knew.

In truth, Terri didn't know for sure that Bastien was terminally ill. Yet all the evidence seemed to point that way. She decided that she would go on the premise that she was right and make her decision from there, because she needed to know what she wanted if Bastien was going to die. If he wasn't, the answer was simple; she wanted to be with him. But marriage was about sickness and health, better or worse--there was no line stating so long as ye both shall be healthy and happy. Terri needed to know if she loved him enough to be willing to stand by him through the hard stuff, too. If she could be strong enough to do so.

She stared at the brick wall surrounding Dave and Sandi's little cottage, and imagined the days ahead without him. It seemed a pretty bleak world without Bastien. Then she imagined her time with him, and remembered how it already had been. The laughter, the talk, the working together in a crisis--Terri wanted that. She didn't want to lose it after having it. But, in effect, she already had. Sandi was right, she'd given it up already. As for suffering his illness with him, she had been through it twice before. Terri knew that she would be checking with Kate to see how Bastien was. She wouldn't be able to help her¬self. The updates she received, along with her past ex¬perience and her imagination, were enough for her to know exactly what he was suffering and to suffer with him, whether she was there to see it physically or not.

She was a coward and a fool, Terri realized. She'd passed up days, months, maybe even years of