Impossible

It was nine o'clock on Saturday night when her doorbell rang. It wasn't the outer door, but the one to her house. Sasha assumed it was the guardian, since she hadn't heard the bell ring on the big bronze outer door. She was carrying the puppy and wearing her nightgown when she opened it. She expected to look into the ancient face of Madame Barboutier, and instead found herself looking up at Liam. He had shown up after all.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, unhappy to see him. Her heart was pounding and her knees felt weak. But there was no sign of it on her face, and she offered him no warm welcome. She had told him not to come.

“I came to see my god-dog.” Sasha was holding her, and he looked down at Socks and smiled. “She looks good.” So did he. Sasha didn't. She looked tired and upset, and she was. She had been suffering over him all week. Keeping up her resolve about him had been anything but easy. And now there he was, on her doorstep, looking more beautiful than ever. He was everything she wanted, and couldn't allow herself to have. She was putting up all the resistance she could.

“I asked you not to come here,” she said coldly, on the verge of tears.

“I want to talk to you, Sasha,” he said, looking serious. She could see in his eyes that he was unhappy, too. “Why don't we just do this for a while, and see what happens? Maybe it won't be a big deal after all.”

“And if it is? Then what? My kids go nuts. My artists think I'm a fruitcake. And we become the talk of Paris and New York.” She didn't paint a pretty picture, but what she described could easily happen and be true. And he knew it, too.

“Do you ever think about anything but disaster or what other people think?” he asked, standing there, still holding his bag. “What if it actually turned out okay? What if people don't give a damn what we do? What if your artists could care less, and your kids want you to be happy, even if that means being with a younger guy? This could turn out to be no big deal.”

“Until you find some girl your age, or younger, and fall in love with her. I don't want to go through that, either.”

“What if I die, or you do? What if we're struck by lightning one night when we're making love? What about cholera, diphtheria, measles? What if we get nuked in a world war?”

“I'd rather get nuked than make a fool of myself with you. I just don't want to go there, Liam. I'd rather be alone.”

“Don't be so silly. I've been in love twice in my life, once with Beth, which lasted for twenty years, and now with you. I've never told anyone I loved them, except the two of you.”

“You just want me because you can't have me,” Sasha said miserably. She was shivering in the cold and so was the dog.

“Can I at least come in for a minute? I've been driving for hours. They canceled my flight, so I took the Chunnel.” She stepped aside, wishing she had the courage not to let him in, but she didn't. As it had been since she had met him, she didn't have the strength to resist, as he walked slowly into her living room. All the lights were out and the room was cold. She was planning to go to bed with the dog. “All right, I give up. Let me spend the night. I won't touch you. I'll leave tomorrow before you get up. I'm too tired to drive back tonight.” She looked at him for a long moment, and then nodded. He could sleep in Xavier's room again. She was going to lock her bedroom door. More to keep herself in than him out.

“Do you want something to eat?” she asked politely, setting the dog down.

“Do you have any ice cream?”

“I think so. We bought a lot last week, and I didn't eat it.”

“You should. It would do you good.” He thought she was too thin. She looked like she had lost more weight that week—he hoped it was from her agony over him.

He followed her into the kitchen, with Socks right behind them. She peed on the kitchen floor, and Liam cleaned it up, while Sasha served him chocolate and coffee ice cream in a giant bowl.

“Do you want anything else?” He shook his head, sat down at the kitchen table, and said nothing. There was nothing much left for either of them to say. They had said it all. She had never been through anything as upsetting as this, other than her husband's death sixteen months before. Sasha sat quietly while he ate. And when he was finished, she stood up. “I'm going to bed. You can sit in the living room if you want. You know where Xavier's room is.”

“Thanks, I'm tired, too. I'll go upstairs.” He followed her up, and she left him on the landing. She could hear him go up the flight to the top floor a moment later, and close Xavier's bedroom door.

She went to run a bath, and had the puppy with her. She didn't bother to lock her door. She knew she didn't need to. He had finally understood, and in the morning he'd be gone. The whole miserable episode of temptation, indulgence, and torture would be over. She could hardly wait for him to leave.