Police lights and sirens filled the night sky. They had been called to a very prestigious address at Central Park South. When the detective arrived at the scene the police had been there for a long while. Apparently, the owner of the magnificent brownstone had shot himself in the head.

The detective walked into the library and was struck with the wealth of his surroundings. The walls were paneled in mahogany. Custom built bookcases held precious first editions beautifully bound in leather covered in brilliant colors, finished in gold leaf.

Among all this pushiness he saw the dead man. His head was lying in a pool of blood on his desk. He had in his left hand the portrait of a beautiful young woman and a gun still on the other.

He was a man in his sixties, well known and well to do. When they had arrived a large size television screen flickered with a blue background. All you could hear was the ongoing sound of the remaining blank video. The detective walked over and turned it off.

~~~~~~~~~~

A light breeze came up from the ocean. The music floated out from the palatial mansion and seemed to cling heavily in the air. It was the last party of the season. He asked himself why he had wasted his time coming to these things; he must have been out of his mind to think that he could find her.

He had come to visit his childhood friend in the early part of the summer. He did this trying to avoid the crowds that usually migrated to the Hamptons in the summer months. It had been a day like any other and quite suddenly something happened that would change his whole life.

He was sitting with Whitney in a cafe having lunch when quite simply he looked out the window. That was the first time he saw her. He had kept coming back to the Hamptons in hopes of seeing her again. It had all begun that simply one summer afternoon.

He felt foolish and uncomfortable in this role. Early on in his life he had realized that women were attracted to him like flies. He had been born unto wealth and he knew that he was thought to be attractive. He had never had to chase any woman. This one he hadn't even spoken to for God's sake; he had started to tell himself this of late.

He had only seen her briefly and yet he couldn't get her out of his mind. His subconscious would conjure up such dreams that would drive him crazy. He had gradually become obsessed with the image of a woman he could not find.

He was going back to the party when from the corner of his eye he saw her come out onto the balcony. She had not noticed his presence in the shadows. He filled his eyes with her and he began to wonder whether she was real or whether she was a product of his over active imagination.

She wore a long white gauzy dress that the breeze blew lightly around her. It surrounded her like a cloud of white. She possessed a beauty that a man might die for. She seemed delicate and she had a look of sadness about her, which made her all the more attractive to him. He was filled with an overwhelming desire to protect her.

Her hair was up in a soft pile and by being so it accented the perfection of her neck and bare shoulders. He approached her slowly. He was afraid that when he spoke the illusion would disappear forever but he had to try.

"It's a beautiful night isn't? " He said as he looked out towards the sea.

She looked in the direction of where the voice had come from. At that moment he turned his gaze and their eyes met. She was so beautiful it took his breath away and all he could do was look at her.

"Yes," she said simply.

"I'm John Stanton", he introduced himself and put his hand out to her. She hesitated for a moment but her hand went out to meet his.

"I'm Isabelle," she said softly.

"Well, I agree you are beautiful enough to be known by only one name." He meant to compliment her but quite suddenly she pulled her hand from his. She seemed nervous and uncomfortable as she spoke again..

"I'm Isabelle Mercer and I consider myself quite ordinary."

He thought for a moment before he spoke. "You're not ordinary, not ordinary at all," he said to her.

She turned to face the ocean and away from him with such longing in her eyes. He could see the pain inside her and it touched him. "Even in your sadness you seem beautiful," he said and she looked in his direction again.

Before she could speak he took a few steps closer to her and took her into his arms. "Dance with me." He hadn't given her the chance to say no.

She looked up in surprise and their eyes met once more. They danced in silence at first. And almost by magical conjuring they were suddenly surrounded and held by the dream like music coming from within.

They became one body. And as the music ended he refused to release her. She raised her face in question and as she did so his lips met hers.

At first his lips teased hers lightly and as she pulled away slightly, he pulled her closer to him. Her body seemed to melt into his. As his lips became more demanding hers opened to welcome him.

A passion erupted in them that neither had ever experienced before. They were caught up in a whirlwind of emotion that spun around them with a velocity that neither could control. She broke the embrace suddenly.

She pushed away from him. Her hands on his chest kept him at a distance. They both panted for breath. He wanted more, she could clearly see that, but all he could see in her face was fear. This brought him back to the reality of the situation all too quickly.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to frighten you. I've been wanting to kiss you for three months," he finished saying with a half smile.

"Three months?"

"I saw you three months ago walking down the street as I was having lunch with a friend," he said simply. She turned away from him and put her hands on the rail for support as she looked out into the water again. He stood very still not wanting to frighten her away.

"I'm not looking for a relationship, Mr. Stanton," she stated simply.

"What are you looking for Isabelle?" He asked her plainly.

"Nothing," she answered quickly.

He turned and leaned against the rail with his back to the water. He ran his fingers through his hair. "You must think I'm crazy," he said softly. She said nothing. "Are you married?"

"No."

"Are you engaged?"

"No."

He turned to look at her. And very slowly asked her the question that mattered most. "Are you in love Isabelle?"

She thought for a moment and said "No."

He smiled to himself in victory. "I know you don't find me unattractive," he said to her and he could see that he had dented her resolve.

She looked in his direction. "I ...I can't Mr. Stanton...I can't," she pleaded with him suddenly.

He didn't understand but he decided to give her room. For right now it was probably best. They both stood very close.

"Okay," he said simply and she seemed to visibly relax.

"Have lunch with me tomorrow?" He asked suddenly. Before she had a chance to answer he added. "Just lunch...I've been trying to find you for three months...Just lunch.... Please?" He gaver her his most charming smile.

"No, I'm sorry, Mr. Stanton," she answered in a voice which was almost a whisper.

He stood next to her not willing to let her just walk out of his life.

"Isabelle..." he beckoned. She turned to look at him. "I can't just walk away Isabelle," he told honestly to her.

She started to move away and he reached out for her.

"Just lunch," he insisted.

"I can't," she repeated. He released her and she walked away from him. He stayed under the moonlight as she walked back inside.

~~~~~~~~~~

It turned out that Whitney knew her. That night he found out that Isabelle and a few other friends were going to have lunch at the yacht club the next day.

She had turned him down flat. Normally that would have been enough. Some might say that it was pride that didn't allow him to walk away. But most people didn't know John Stanton.

He never really had to try hard to get what he wanted. He had everything most people would ever dream of. He had never really known what it was like to want. And he wanted Isabelle. He wanted her with every fiber that his body and soul possessed.

He had never known such hunger or such longing in his life. The idea of not having her in his arms again drove him to madness. She was different than any other woman he had ever met. Her frailty attracted him. He was overwhelmed with a desire to possess her and protect her.

For a moment he had seen into her soul and that had touched something in him that would connect her to him forever. He had seen her pain, which for some irrational reason touched him and fused him to her. It intrigued him. He had never known pain in his life. And, quite suddenly this woman had made him see pain and in her he found it disturbing.

He arrived at the yacht club early. He stood near a window like a statue and just stared out waiting. Ever since the moment he had kissed her nothing else mattered. It didn't seem important for him to try to do anything but wait for her. And all he wanted was Isabelle.

He turned around the moment she came into the room almost by instinct. And, seeing her didn't surprise him. He had felt her coming. He took in as much as he could with his eyes. She saw the hunger in him visible in his eyes and she turned away from it. He hardly spoke to her at lunch.

They were a nice group really, but he couldn't have cared less whether they were pleasant or not if she hadn't been there. Occasionally, he did catch her looking at him and that gave him hope.

~~~~~~~~~~

For the next few weeks he showed up at every lunch, dinner or event she attended. Always, keeping his distance. If she began to expect him that was fine. That was what he wanted.

Slowly he would talk to her matter of factly, never getting her alone anywhere. Never had he courted any woman like this; he was patience personified. Whitney would look at him and shake her head in amusement.

"John, why don't you give up. She's obviously not interested," Whitney said to him one afternoon.

"She's frightened. She's been hurt, I can see that. I just can't walk away from her, Whit. I can't explain it...I just can't." She could hear the exasperation in his voice.

"My God, you love her!" She said as it suddenly became obvious to her. She looked up at him and he was yet again looking at Isabelle, and his answer was barely a whisper

"Yes." He loved her. The knowledge of it filled his chest. He felt weighted down by it. For quiet suddenly he realized she might never love him in return.

He had never been in love. It was driving him crazy. He couldn't have mistaken her reaction that night when he kissed her, he kept telling himself. He had felt her hunger.

"I don't know how to reach her Whitney. She's different than any woman I have ever known. I want her so bad it physically hurts. She doesn't even give me the time of day!" He finished in exasperation and despair.

"I would never have guessed that you would ever surcome Johnny!" She said in jest.

He looked at her seriously. "It's not funny Whitney!" He sounded angry.

"I'm sorry, I'm really sorry," she said to him and meant it.

"I just don't know how to reach her. You're the only woman friend I have."

"That's because I refused to be your girlfriend when I was ten and you were eleven." She smiled at him.

"Yeah," he said returning her smile.

"I've known her for a short time Johnny but she seems like a genuinely nice person. She's a little aloof. I've never seen her with a male friend or a woman friend, if you know what I mean."

"You like her don't you Whit," he said in satisfaction.

"Yeah, there's something about her that seems genuine and noble. But I also see that she is filled with some great pain, Johnny, and that is something that may keep her away from you forever," she finished sadly.

"What do you mean?" He asked perplexed.

"If someone or something has hurt her so much that she can't shake it she might not want to take a chance in being hurt ever again." She looked quite seriously at him.

"I'll make her want to take a chance," he said confidently looking back in Isabelle's direction once more.

"I hope you're right, Johnny," Whitney said to him.

He was her best friend. John had always been so confident and so strong. This might be something he could not handle and that worried her. Rejection was alien to him but worse of all was the fact that rejection by the only woman he had ever really wanted might be hard to handle indeed.

~~~~~~~~~~

They all usually went out as a group. It had been decided to have a picnic on the beach the day before. It was to be the last of the season. The summer had come to an end and all would be leaving their summer playground within days. Isabelle was walking alone on the beach picking up shells when he walked over to her.

"What are you doing daughter of Neptune? Gathering up treasures to return to the sea?" He said to her with a smile. She looked up at him covering her eyes from the sun with her hand.

"Well you know how it is, occasionally we do want our treasures back." She returned his smile. This was a good day. The first time he had felt like he was actually getting to her.

"Isabelle, have dinner with me and I promise to gather all the treasure that Neptune can ever want," he said taking a characteristic bow.

"No thanks," she said and then started walking down the beach away from him. He had broken the connection with his impatience, he told himself. He would try again.

"Can I walk with you?" He asked as he walked next her.

"I don't own the beach," she answered as she kept walking.

She neither encouraged nor discouraged him. They walked in silence. She stopped and stared out into the ocean after they had walked for what seemed like a long time.

"Do you ever wonder what's out there? Way out there where there's only water and sky?" She asked suddenly, appearing to be mesmerized.

"Why don't we find out?" He said softly. She turned and looked at him. "We can sail out there and find out." He could see that she was tempted but not enough.

"No," she said as she started walking again.

"Isabelle!" He held her in place, holding her by the arm. The desperation was obvious in his voice. "Am I so terrible?" He asked in desperation. "You can't possibly find me so undesirable that I'm not even worthy of an afternoon sail?"

"Let me go!" She demanded.

"What's wrong with me? What makes me so horrible?" He asked again, still hanging on to her.

"Let me go!" She pulled hard as he released her and fell down hard onto the sand. He was next to her immediately.

"Are you all right? I'm so sorry...Are you all right?"

"Yes, just leave me alone," she said turning away from him. He grabbed her arms and she fell on her back. He was immediately over her.

His mouth found hers and coaxed her lips to open. He could feel her body respond beneath him. Suddenly, she started pushing him away.

"Stop it! Get off! Get off!" She was becoming hysterical. Her fear brought him to his senses. He immediately released her. She started to gasp for air.

"Are you ill?" He asked concerned.

"I'll be okay, I just need to be alone." She looked quite pale. "Please, please John just go away," she pleaded.

"I can't just leave you like this." He was concerned.

"Please go, just go!"

"Isabelle..."

"Just go, please.."

He got up and walked away from her.

He didn't see her for the next few days. Whitney said she had not been feeling well. He tried going to see her but she refused to see him.

~~~~~~~~~~

He had been neglecting his business and his life in New York. None of that seemed to matter to him. It had been two months since he had found Isabelle and he was no closer to her now than he had been when this all started five months before. When he thought he was making progress he felt glad and somehow within days that one step forward resulted in three steps back.

His frustration had made him more aggressive in his need of her. He shouldn't have pushed so hard. He had scared her that day at the beach. Dear Lord, he had practically assaulted her!

She had become an obsession and he didn't like it. He was getting moody and hard to talk to. Whitney had told him to go for a walk because he was impossible to deal with. It was cloudy when he went for a walk on the lonely beach.

The tourists had long been gone. The wind was cold on his face as he walked the beach with his hands deep in his pockets. The seasons changed so quickly here, he thought. It seemed that the ocean was telling them all that playtime was over and they should all go home. He was here only because she was here. He would stay as long as necessary. Whitney was returning to the city that day.

Frustrated and angry, he stood looking out into the horizon where the sea meets the sky. He had words with his father that morning too. His frustration was overflowing into every other part of his life.

Karl Stanton was checking on his son's obvious oblivious interest in the family business for the last half part of the year. John realized he had said things he had not meant. He didn't like hurting people. Not intentionally anyway. And he knew that he had been unusually harsh with his father. He was unable to control his frustration with Isabelle.

He turned and before he saw her he knew she would be there.

He looked at her not able to hide his emotions. He could see her hunger as well. He slowly took her in his arms and his mouth covered hers. She leaned into him and her arms went up his back to pull him towards her. Her body melted into his perfectly. And her lips welcomed his with an abandonment that surprised them both.

"Let me go, please," she pleaded as she pulled away from him.

"Why? You want me as much as I want you!"

"Help me John. This can't be. Please help me!" She begged as tears rolled down her face. He took a step towards her and she backed away from him. Her hands pressed at his chest to keep him at a distance.

"Nothing in this world could make me leave, don't you see that Isabelle? Don't be frightened. Give me a chance to love you."

"NO!" She yelled. "No, this will never be." She walked back to shore. He had heard a finality in her voice that had kept him rooted to the ground and unable to follow her.

The next day she was gone.

He went back to New York.

~~~~~~~~~~

He poured himself into his work, which he had neglected. He felt emptiness and lifelessness in every aspect of his life. Life had lost its luster for him. He looked around him and all he saw were things.

The things he possessed. The things he bought. Nothing was really his. No one belonged to him and he belonged to no one. He walked, talked and life went on but he didn't. After an illness or a death people got better. Sooner or later they got better. That was the way of things. People got better but he didn't.

His father showed up unexpected one afternoon in his office.

"I thought we might have lunch John," Karl Stanton said to his son.

"Sorry Dad, but I'm swamped with work." He didn't even bother to look up from the papers on his desk.

"John, what is it son?" John's head popped up instantly. "What's tormenting you?" Karl Stanton asked point blank.

"Nothing Dad," he answered all too quickly.

"I might be able to help you. Do you think I'm blind? Your Mother is sick with worry but she doesn't dare ask for fear of the answer."

John got up from his chair and stood in front of a large window that overlooked the city. He ran his fingers through his hair and quite suddenly his father noticed his shoulders droop and his son seemed very tired. "I love a woman who doesn't want me," he confessed.

"Who is she?"

"You don't know her," he said still looking out the window. "There isn't really anything else to say." John walked back to his desk.

He sat back down and started working on the papers in front of him again. The curtain rose up between them once more.

"Sorry Dad perhaps we can make lunch next week. I'm...really quite busy with this right now," he said very business like and Karl Stanton realized that he had been dismissed.

He loved his son. He had been a son to be proud of. John was thirty-three and Karl had to admit he had wanted his son to fall in love and give him yet another heir to his great empire. Women had always flocked to him. It had never occurred to him that one would turn him down. Now none of the reasons he had wanted John to marry seemed important.

All he saw was his son in pain and he was helpless to stop it. Time went on and nothing changed. It didn't surprise him when one afternoon John simply walked out of his office and didn't come back. He had left his father a brief letter saying simply that he had to find her.

A year later he did.

~~~~~~~~~~

He had followed her trail from the Hamptons to California. From California to Venice, Italy and from there to Marbella in Spain. That's were he caught up with her.

He had the address in his hands. He drove to the address and very slowly walked up the steps of the house overlooking the ocean.

It occurred to him that they had always been together near an ocean. This thought filled him with a sense of peace. He knocked on the door and when it opened she stood in front of him.

They looked into each other's eyes and suddenly there was no past. It was as if they had been together only a few minutes before. She showed no surprise and he realized that it was like he had been expected.

"Isabelle," her name escaped his lips. He walked past her into the house. "Aren't you going to tell me how nice it is to see me again?" He asked unable to control the sarcasm that suddenly filled his body. He turned to face her. "Why did you run away?"

"You shouldn't have come," she said walking a distance away from him leaving the door open as an open invitation for him to leave.

"I love you and as crazy as this may sound I know you love me," he stated. She looked at him in surprise.

"You're crazy. I don't love you. I barely know you," she said angrily and she wrapped her arms around her body protectively.

"You love me, Isabelle," he said it again.

"I can't be with you. I have tried to push you away. Why couldn't you just let it go?" She blurted out.

"What is it Isabelle? Don't be afraid, trust me. Nothing on this planet could make me not love you. God knows I've tried to forget you and I can't."

"You don't understand, and I can't explain. Just go away." She pleaded with him as tears rolled down her eyes.

"Why? Tell me why!" He demanded from her.

Her mouth opened and closed again.

"Nothing that you can say to me will make me stop loving you. Tell me what you're afraid of. Let me prove it to you, Isabelle."

Frustration showed in her face. "You don't know what it's like...to want something you know you can't ever have. I don't want to hurt you. I have never wanted to hurt anyone. I can never be a part of your world." Her words were filled with anguish.

"Why? Tell me why Isabelle?"

"Because I don't want too!" She exclaimed. He just stood staring at her. Her eyes closed very slowly. And when she opened them again and he saw her.

She was letting him see deep within her. He stood very still.

"Please...please let me have this peace," she said to him in a whisper.

He stared at her unable to understand her words or their meaning.

"I can't," was his answer.

"I know that you are a good man John." She tried to approach him with reason again. "Whitney, speaks so highly of you."

"Whit and I have been friends forever," he stated simply.

"Yes, she told me."

"Isabelle, I can handle anything. I don't care who you are or what you might have done. All that is not important. I have seen inside you and that is what I love."

Tears rolled down her face freely. As he took a step closer she put her hand out to stop his progress. She turned her back to him.

"Remember that I tried to push you away. I have never been in love before. I didn't even have a chance to run away," she said as if speaking to herself. She paused and then continued. "You see, I do love you. And I'm so sorry. I never wanted to hurt you. I'm going to tell you everything John and when I'm done, I'll turn around and you will be gone and I won't blame you," she said with a resignation of a loss that he could not imagine.

"Nothing that you can say will make me leave you. Nothing," he affirmed. She smiled sadly and looked away from him as she spoke.

"My father's first born was a son," she started. "He was called Isadore after my grandfather.

"My father always wanted a son. Unfortunately, Isadore was born sickly. Still he tried to teach him all the things he considered important for his only son to know. He made him practice the sports he thought his only son should be in. After all, he was a great athlete. Isadore preferred to read, listen to music, paint. Father never could understand where he had gone wrong." She sighed

"His son was a disappointment, you see. Not that father would say anything but after a while his disapproval began to show. Isadore didn't like sports, he was quiet and reserved."

"Like you," John said with a smile.

"Yes, like me." Isabelle smiled back sadly. "He was nothing like my father. By the time he was nine his 'delicacy', as father put it, had become an embarrassment. His fatherly devotion gradually became something ugly and twisted. Isadore looked too delicate and girlie, my father would say to him. He was sent off to school when he was ten." She stared out the window lost in her memories as the tears rolled down her cheeks.

John looked at her and as he did he could see all the pain that the telling of this story gave her.

She had paused for a moment then took a deep breath and continued. "He was made to disappear. He stayed in school during the holidays when other boys went home. After the age of ten Isadore never knew what a family was. In the summer he was sent off to camp. Mother would make the yearly visit of course, to appease her guilt of letting father get away with this. But of course she never fooled Isadore. Not a day went by that someone didn't beat on him because he was different than the other boys. The years dragged on forever for him. High school graduation came and went and they did not go. He was the valedictorian in high school and in college and still they never went. Fortunately for him, grandfather had left him a trust fund. Isadore had money to try and make a life for himself. Father had cut him off and washed his hands of him. He wanted nothing to do with a fag for a son." She covered her mouth as a sob rose from within her.

"Isabelle, I would never judge...treat anyone..." she interrupted before he could continue.

"Let me speak John because if you interrupt again I don't know if I'll have the courage." He remained silent.

"Isadore went to change his life with the money grandfather left him. It took many years for him to reach some sort of peace with himself and his body. The joke is that he didn't change much. He was a freak of nature. He had always looked more like a woman than a man and after many years of therapy, he physically and psychologically became the woman he had always been. On his twenty seventh birthday he came to the house to see father. He was led to the library. When father saw him he froze. They argued endlessly. Isadore became suddenly very sad." Isabelle stopped for a moment then continued. "I think until that moment he had hoped to make some kind of peace with father. Even after all that father had done to him he still loved him, you see."

Isabelle stared out of the window then continued to speak. "I think he finally realized that he would always be alone and so he told my father that he would never come back again. That he would never have to see him again; to imagine him as having died. The only thing father said to him oddly enough was 'You're just like your mother'...he was walking towards the door when father called to him again, even before he finished turning to face him the loud sound of the gun shot filled the room. Mother ran into the room and was shocked into action. She yelled for father to call an ambulance. When he didn't move she got up and called herself. Isadore was covered in blood...and father just stood there..."

John was going to speak then waited for her to finish.

"It being a gun shot the police were called by the hospital. Isadore told them it had been an accident." She finished, directing her eyes to his face.

"Did he die?" John asked sympathetically. She nodded, her eyes filled with tears and he pulled her into his embrace.

She left his arms and said, "Yes, Isadore died that night."

She pulled away from him and placed a hand on a chair for support. He placed his hand over hers. She looked down at his hand on hers and gently pulled hers away. She walked slowly back to the window again. Turning very slowly she started unbuttoning her blouse.

His breath seemed to freeze in his mouth. He didn't understand as he stared at her. Her eyes were blank. He could see her lacy bra as she fully opened her blouse. He saw the swell of her breasts and his breath began to get heavy.

She lowered the strap over her shoulder and a scar was visible. She looked down at her breast and back up to John's eyes. He was still mesmerized with the perfect swell of her breasts before he saw the scar.

He looked at the scar for a long while and then looked back up to her eyes questioning.

"That's where my father shot me," she said simply and, not looking at him, she replaced the strap and turned away from him.

She stood very still and a few moments later she heard the sound of a closing door as she had expected.

~~~~~~~~~~

She covered her face as sobs racked her body and she dropped to the floor on her knees. It had never hurt like this. The pain she felt within would surely kill her.

"Ohhhh..." She cried with such anguish.

Quiet suddenly she was embraced and pulled up against a strong chest. She pulled away in shock and was met with the eyes she'd never expected to behold again.

She just stared in confusion. He was there, he was still there. She couldn't believe it. Rising to her feet, she quickly put some distance between them, closing her blouse to cover her nakedness from him. She had never faced this fear before. This was new. She stared in apprehension.

"I thought you had gone," she finally spoke.

"No, I'm still here," he said running his fingers through his hair. She realized that his actions had surprised him as well. At that moment he looked directly into her eyes.

"All I know is that I can't walk away from you." He let out a small nervous laugh and looked back into her eyes, very seriously. "The first moment I saw you I wanted you so bad. I spent three months looking for you, going to every Godforsaken party I could. That night I saw you walking out onto the balcony I had just about given up. I felt foolish and ridiculous. And for a self-absorbed arrogant man like me, that's quite a lot I assure you." he said, smiling nervously.

She listened and he continued. Both only a few feet away from each other and unable to move. They both realized that the next few minutes would change their lives forever. "You were more than I expected. So much more beautiful up close. Intelligent, sensitive, but sad...so very sad. You wore your sadness like you deserved it. I agreed not to pursue you. So that I could pursue you..." he laughed softly.

She was listening in silence and before he continued he became very serious too. "I pursued you. I confess, it was only lust that drove me on in the beginning. That's what I told myself. And then one afternoon Whitney said it so simply. She just said it matter of factly. 'You love her!' And I realized that it had been true from the beginning. That afternoon at the beach I knew you loved me too. I knew you needed time but when I found out that you had gone...I went half out of my mind; went back to New York pretended that I could just go on without you. Then one afternoon I just walked out of a board meeting and never went back. I started to search for you." He looked at her. They stood frozen in each others eyes.

"I can't walk away Isabelle. All I know is that I love you. After all that you have told me, that is still true...I love you, Isabelle." Tears started rolling down her face and he was the one that walked towards her slowly.

She was frightened. Acceptance was a fragile thing to her. When he stood in front of her he reached out for her and pulled her into his embrace gently.

Quite suddenly she let out a sob and clung to him. He held her against him tightly then. She was so frail that he was afraid that with one more blow she would brake and an overwhelming desire to protect her filled him once more.

All she had ever known in her life was pain. He would fill her world with love. He was gentle and moved slowly. He turned her chin up gently and lightly kissed her lips. He stroked her hair and caressed her face. She just stared into the face of something she had never known. Acceptance. His lips found hers again. This time his mouth coaxed a response from her.

He looked into her eyes and took her hands and put them around his neck as he pulled her closer to him. She was frightened. "I have never been with anyone. I am a woman in every sense of the word but...I have never been with anyone."

"I'm glad to be the first," he said as his lips found hers. She pushed him away from her and held him at bay with her hands on his chest.

"John I'm afraid," she said unable to look into his eyes.

"Do you love me?" He asked her a simple question.

She looked up and said, "Yes, oh yes."

"Then trust that I love you Isabelle," he said and proceeded to remove her blouse. "Unbutton my shirt," he told her.

Her hands were shaking as she unbuttoned his shirt. He took off his shirt and stood in front of her for a moment, then reached for the clip in her bra and unsnapped it. He removed it and her breasts rose as her breathing became strained. He removed her slacks and silk panties.

His eyes caressed her nakedness and her body felt as if it would go up on fire and still he had not touched her.

He suddenly picked her up off the ground and in a passion filled voice asked, "Where is your bedroom?" She pointed up the stairs and he took two steps at a time.

He stood in front of her bed and gently put her down on the floor. "Unbuckle my belt Isabelle," he said to her.

She stood frozen with fear.

"You have to want me as much as I want you. Trust your feelings Isabelle," he said to her.

Her hands clumsily undid his belt. Her breathing became erratic. He grabbed her by the arms so she would not run away.

"Don't push me away Isabelle. I want you so much. I'll take off the rest of my clothes myself." He removed what remained of his clothing.

He reached out for her and slowly pulled her towards him. He found it hard to inhale as her naked body pressed against him. Her lips went up to meet his.

He was trying to control his need for her. He had to be gentle. His hands caressed her body and he could feel the surrender in her kisses.

He stroked her breasts and his thumb teased her hardened nipples until a groan of pleasure escaped her lips. He leaned forward and slowly they fell onto the bed. He lay above her kissing her mouth as his hands stroked her body.

He quickly sat up and brought her up with him. He held her thighs and slowly pulled her towards him until she was sitting on his legs, straddling him. Slowly he would make her his.

He pressed her breasts against him, and his kisses excited her once more. Before she realized he was lying on top of her again but this time her legs were open to him. He slowly introduced himself inside her. Her eyes flew open as he first entered her. His mouth covered hers and her protests died there.

He was gentle as he introduced her to the ways of love. And after he had pleasured her he allowed himself to come inside her. She was his.

He held her tightly through the night. Holding her very close, the last thought he had before sleep overtook him was that she was finally his and he would never let her go.

~~~~~~~~~~

Daylight hitting his face woke him. He looked around and in his arms was a sleeping Isabelle. He smiled to himself and with the back of his finger caressed her dormant face.

Her eyes slowly opened. His lips kissed hers lightly. She looked into his eyes searching. He pulled her close to him to reassure her.

"John?" He did not let her continue. His lips sought hers and this time he rode the wave of his passion. She responded to his need of her with passion of her own. They made love until both hungers were satiated.

The noon sun shone through the window and John lay next to Isabelle holding her close to him. "Where do we go from here?" She asked.

"To happily ever after," he said and kissed her. She sat up pulling the sheet up with her.

He sat up next to her. He put his arms around her and her head slowly came to rest on his shoulder.

"Woman you better have some food in this house because if you don't I'm going to have to satisfy my hunger with you again," he said to her laughing. She lifted her head and looked into his smiling face. She smiled back.

"How about an omelet?"

He rolled out of bed. "Coffee! I'd love some coffee..." He stood before her naked. She looked away.

"Darling, you know every part of me don't look away," he said to her gently.

She looked at him and he smiled. She got up and walked towards him.

"You are the most beautiful woman I've ever seen. I'm a lucky man," he said proudly.

She stood in front of him silently and smiled.

"Now let's get me fed. I'm starving." He bent down and started grabbing his trousers.

She went and put a silk robe on. They both went downstairs together to make breakfast.

~~~~~~~~~~

They played tourists and ran around like two children in a candy shop. One afternoon they went to see the city of Malaga. Isabelle wanted to see some Arab fortresses there.

"Okay, you obviously know something about where we are going so do tell," he joked with her.

"Well, okay, I'll be the tour guide," she laughed. "Here in Malaga, standing at the top of Gilbralfaro, is the Alcazabe." She was looking at a guidebook as she spoke.

"What is a Gilbralfaro and a Alcazabe?"

She looked at him with a humorous smile. "Sorry... Gilbralfaro is a hill overlooking the bay and the Alcazabe is a Arab fortress constructed during the 8th and 9th century. There is also a cathedral which was built in 1528."

"Well, I can see I don't have any problems. I have a great tour guide." He was smiling at her.

"This city has a long history..." She stopped when she saw him smiling at her. "What? Why are you looking at me like that?" She asked sweetly.

"You're beautiful.... Not only that, but brilliant too."

"Flattery will get you everywhere," she joked in return. They kept walking and laughing. "Oh, the artist Pablo Picasso was born here too."

"Is that the type of art that you like?" He asked, remembering her comments about liking to paint.

"Well, I like his early works, the latter work I'm not too crazy about."

The rest of the day was spent simply sharing each other's company and the scenery. They started back to Marbella as it began to get dark.

"Tired?" He asked as they walked back to the car.

"Yes, but happy," she answered him with a smile. Day after day they found new treasures that they made their own.

Another day they went to Granada to see the Alhambra Palace, the greatest Moorish monument in Spain built around the 13th century. Its beauty overwhelmed Isabelle.

Occasionally, they would spend the night in these cities. But the city they both liked best was Sevilla with its winding streets, Moorish architecture and large houses with courtyards filled with flowers and fountains.

One day we will come back and live here, John thought to himself.

They walked through the city holding hands, stealing kisses from one another, overwhelmed by the beauty of the city long gone by.

The next few weeks were the happiest Isabelle had ever known. John had been as good as his word. He had made her happy. He was the most remarkable man she had ever met. She found herself really and truly in love.

They spent the mornings exploring different and interesting places in beautiful Marbella. Their afternoons were spent under the glorious sun in the beach and the nights...the nights were spent making love.

He had taught her to give herself completely to him. She gave him her passion and revelled in it. She was truly happy. There was nothing she would have denied him. He had slowly become her life.

One afternoon as they walked in the phone was ringing. Isabelle picked it up. Her face immediately sobered. She handed the receiver to John. He took it and followed her movements with concern in his eyes.

"John this is your father," he heard coming from the receiver.

"Dad, how did you get this number?"

"You checked into the office."

"What is it Dad?"

"What is it? Did you think we might want to hear from you more than two or three times this past year?"

"I'm sorry if I worried you and Mother," John apologized. He realized that he should have called them, they were his parents. They loved him and were worried for him.

"The girl that answered, is that her John?" His father asked with obvious concern in his voice.

"Yes, Dad. Her name is Isabelle. I'm trying to convince her to marry me," he said looking at Isabelle.

She turned to face him in obvious surprise.

"I just proposed to her Dad, with you on the line. She looks like she's in shock. I better hang up and kiss her before she says no." He couldn't stop the smile on his face.

"Good luck son, call us soon," and with that, he hung up. John replaced the receiver and walked over to Isabelle very slowly. She just stared not believing what she had heard.

"Marry me?" He asked now standing in front of her. She said nothing so he asked again. "Marry me?"

She was about to say something when he placed his finger on her mouth. "I'll only accept a yes." He took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. Her arms went up around his neck.

He spoke with his lips brushing hers. "Say yes....say yes." He kissed her again and again.

She would have agreed to anything and the word came easily from her lips. "Yes."

He picked her up and whirled her around the room. They both laughed heartily.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks later they were on a plane to New York. They had been married in Spain. Isabelle was happier than she had ever been in her life. But with all this happiness she found herself not able to shake off a sense of dread. John put his hand over hers and leaned over to kiss her.

"What is it, darling?"

"I'm afraid John," she said to him as her eyes sought his.

"Nothing to be afraid of," he said,squeezing her hand. "My parents are rather nice people," he kidded her. "My friends are not that bad either." Even as he finished saying that she got visibly upset.

"I should never have married you," she said near to tears.

"Isabelle..." he started to say, but she turned her face away.

"Okay, no friends, just you and me." He spoke gently to her. She turned to him with tear filled eyes. "Nothing...I need nothing but you." And he kissed her lightly

"John..." she was about to say something else but he interrupted before she could speak.

"Don't you know that you are my love and that you are my life. Without you there is nothing." He kissed her and that was the end of that.

~~~~~~~~~~

Karl and Vanessa Stanton met them in the First Class terminal of Iberia Airlines at Kennedy Airport. Almost as soon as she saw them she knew this wasn't going to be easy. Karl quickly walked up to meet them. He hugged John and turned to her with a smile.

"You must be Isabelle," he said, kissing her on the cheek. She smiled nervously holding on to John's hand.

Vanessa Stanton however approached them quite differently. She was clearly upset. John took a step forward to head her off. Karl noticed John's defensive attitude towards Isabelle instantly and cut off his wife.

"Vanessa, my dear this is our Isabelle. We finally get to meet the woman that our son went half way around the world to find." He was charming but his wife knew that he was letting her know how important this woman was to her son.

Vanessa Stanton knew when to pick her fights and when to wait for the right moment and this clearly was not a good time to voice her disapproval. She hugged her son and turned to Isabelle with a frosty smile.

"I'm glad to meet you Isabelle," she managed to say politely. John was not fooled and at that moment a line was drawn between him and his mother.

"It's my pleasure Mrs. Stanton," Isabelle answered politely.

"You are definitely quite beautiful." This was said in a very matter of fact tone.

"Thank you."

"Mercer...I'm not familiar with the name. Is your family from abroad?" asked Vanessa.

"You don't know her family, mother," interrupted John.

"I see. Well, where are you from my dear? From what I hear you seem to be all over the world but in no particular place." Vanessa Stanton's sarcasam was obvious.

John was about to say something when Isabelle jumped in. She did not want to be the cause of a rift between mother and son.

"I never had someone who was important enough to me to build a home with." As she spoke she looked at John. He rewarded her with a big smile.

Vanessa saw her son's face. He was happy. At that moment she chose caution. After all, there would be plenty of time to find out about the woman her son had chosen to marry.

"Mother, it was a long flight and we're very tired. Why don't we get together for dinner tomorrow?" John spoke to his mother in a stern voice.

Vanessa Stanton realized that this fight might cost her son, so she withdrew. "Yes, of course, you must both be exhausted. Tomorrow will be soon enough. We'll get to know each other then." She replied to his statement, but directed her comments to Isabelle.

"Mother!" John got immediately defensive.

"Vanessa, we should let them go home." Karl jumped in to avert a confrontation.

"John, darling, let's go home," said Isabelle softly putting her arm through his. He looked down and smiled at her as his hand covered hers. He liked the sound of that.

"Yes, let's go home," he said to his wife.

"It was nice meeting you both. I love John very much. All I want to do is make him happy." John smiled at his wife's words. It was the first he felt her inner strength.

"Welcome to the family my dear," Karl told her with genuine gladness.

"Well, we'll see you tomorrow then." John put his arm around Isabelle's waist possessively. "Good-bye Mother," he said as they walked away.

Vanessa was going to say something until she felt her husband's hand on her arm. They both watched silently as John and Isabelle walked away.

"What did you think you were doing?" Karl Stanton asked his wife, facing her.

"Trying to find out who our son married."

"Vanessa, this one is different... tread lightly," he warned.

Vanessa looked at her husband and back at John and Isabelle.

"Give her a chance Vanessa, don't fight John on this, you won't win."

~~~~~~~~~~

Two hours later a limousine pulled up in front of one of the most prestigious neighborhoods in Central Park South. It was too close to home for Isabelle but, this was John's home and she promised herself she would try.

The house was beautiful, as were most of the brownstones in the area. They were filled with large rooms with mahogany panels and guilded frames. This was home or at least she would try to make it her home.

"Change whatever you like Isabelle, I want this to be our home," John said as he took her into his arms. He picked her up and carried her up the stairs.

~~~~~~~~~~

John slept on the bed as she stood by the window looking out onto the moonlit street. New York. She had never wanted to come back here again. She should never have agreed to come back here with John. But, he had wanted to make her part of his life. And his life was here.

She thought that when she agreed to come here that everything somehow would work itself out. She had been naive. John had been a mistake. She should never have married him. All this someday would cause him pain and shame. If anyone were to find out he would be ostracized from his world and perhaps his family.

She hadn't thought any of this through. All she had seen was the happiness that he offered. She loved him more than life itself, and she hadn't allowed herself to think. Now she realized she should have thought of him, of his life, of his family and of his future.

How had this gotten so crazy? All she had ever wanted she had with him. Why was it such a crime to want a life like anybody else's? Her whole life had been a lie. Her whole existence had been an abomination, just as her father had said.

She should have let him go. Every day she prayed for one more day with him. Because, every day was borrowed time. She felt her body weaken and yet her spirit had been so filled.

John had brought her joy. If only for a little while. She would never have known happiness if not for him. Her life had been lonely and bleak, but with him came warmth and the light of day.

She prayed to the God of her childhood. The one that her father had said did not love her because of what she was. But hope is what had sustained her her whole life. She hoped that God had not forgotten her and that he would grant her a few more moments and then take her away when the right time came.

She walked back to their bed and saw the light of the moon reflect on John's face. Was it wrong to love him? She got into bed and her body sought his embrace.

She slept badly and when she woke John was not next to her. She looked around, dazed with the lack of sleep and then she heard the sound of the shower.

She looked at her watch on the nightstand. It was already 9 am. She was normally an early riser, always waking before John. But, lately it had become harder to get up in the mornings. Her sleep had become heavier. Taking a deep breath she got out of bed.

When John came out of the shower she was sitting in front of the dressing table brushing her hair. He walked over to her and kissed the side of her face from behind. She could see a smile on his face from the mirror in front of her.

"Good morning darling," he said cheerfully.

"Good morning to you too."

He walked over to his dressing room. From inside she heard him ask. "What would you like to do today?"

She stopped brushing her hair, surprised. "I thought you would be going into the office today."

He came back into the room holding some trousers. "On our first day home? No, not for a few days. The most important thing is to make you glad that you came." He walked back to his dressing room.

She turned around on her chair. "What do you mean?"

"Isabelle, I know you remember. You can't fool me, darling. I know you didn't want to come back to the States."

After a few moments of silence he came out of the dressing room fully clothed. "Is your family from New York?" He asked point blank.

She turned her back to him. This was going to be impossible. "This isn't going to work John. In Spain we had no baggage. I don't know if I can do this." She was unable to control her nervousness.

"Do I know them?" He was able to see right through her.

"How would I know? I can't talk about this!" She was getting agitated. Standing up, she paced nervously.

He walked over to her and held her in place. "We will face whatever comes Isabelle," he said looking into her eyes. She shook her head and pulled away from him, going to stand in front of the window.

Looking out onto the street she said " I hate this city. I'm always afraid here." At that moment he realized that this was the past she left behind.

He stood behind her and pulled her to him until her body was leaning against his. "Okay darling, let me wrap a few things up and we will go live were ever you want." He spoke into her hair. She turned around quickly to face him.

"You mean it?" She asked unable to contain her excitement.

"Yes, I do," he said to her. "Just a few weeks, then we can live anywhere in the world you want." She went into his arms and breathed in a sigh of relief.

~~~~~~~~~~

Whitney came to call that afternoon with John's mother.

"I'm sorry about having to cancel dinner tonight, my dear, but Karl had an urgent business matter to attend to. I can't say I'm disappointed," said Vanessa Stanton.

"Mother!" John exclaimed.

"So that I can give you a proper dinner," she told her son. He was about to say something when she spoke again. "I will give a dinner to introduce Isabelle to our closest friends."

"Isabelle and I want some privacy for awhile, after all, we are still newlyweds," John reminded her.

Whitney sat silently observing Isabelle's silence and growing nervousness. She placed her hand over the other woman's and gave her an encouraging squeeze. Whitney knew that Vanessa Stanton could be extremely hard to take at times.

Isabelle looked into Whitney's eyes and realized she had an ally. Whitney then joined the conversation. "Perhaps we should wait awhile longer, Vanessa. When you're in love crowds are a bore."

"No, nonsense, I've already called some friends."

"Then cancel!" Stated John in irritation. Mother and son were at a standoff.

"John, perhaps we can..." started saying Isabelle.

"No Isabelle!" John looked as his mother as he spoke. "Why are we going to have a dinner party when you and I don't want one? Mother is going to have to learn that she can't always have her way."

Vanessa stood up, furious. "Well perhaps if you hadn't gone off and married who the hell knows whom I wouldn't have to do this!" She spat out at him. John jumped to his feet and Isabelle rose and held on to his arm.

"John please," she said softly.

"Her name is Isabelle. Get use to it!" John yelled at his mother.

Whitney got up and stood next to Vanessa. "Vanessa, please let this go," she said nervously.

"He thinks he can just abandon everything and everyone for over a year, chasing after some woman that no one seems to know anything about!"

"Get out mother! Get out now!" John hissed menacingly under his breath.

"Vanessa please!" Whitney said, taking hold of Vanessa's arm.

"Who doesn't want this dinner her or you? Are you ashamed of the choice you've made for a wife--" Before she finished speaking, John grabbed her by the arm and physically hauled her to the door. The world suddenly started to spin and for Isabelle it all got dark.

~~~~~~~~~~

She woke up in her bedroom with a very concerned face hovering over her. "My God, you're awake. I've been going out of my mind. The doctor is on his way. I couldn't wake you." John was rambling nervously.

"I'm all right. What happened?" She felt a little disoriented.

"My mother." He reminded her.

"Oh yes, did I pass out?"

"You just suddenly fainted. I've never been more scared in my life," he said to her still very upset.

"I'm all right, it's just the excitement of the past few days that's all," she responded gently.

"I still want the doctor to see you," he told her.

"No need, I'm fine," she said as her hand went to caress his face. He pulled her into his embrace.

"I love you Isabelle," he said holding her tightly.

"I know." His mouth sought hers. Isabelle gave herself completely to her passion for John. She would love him for as long as she could.

~~~~~~~~~~

It had been over a week since the incident with John's mother. His father had come by to smooth things over but to no avail. John knew that the ice he was on was thin and it seemed to be getting thinner the longer they stayed in New York.

Karl hadn't taken the news of his leaving the States very well. But John saw no other way. Isabelle was trying hard to hide her growing apprehension. It was taking its toll.

He knew she wasn't sleeping well, although she never said anything. And when she did sleep it was not quite right in his mind. It had become hard to wake her at times and it scared him. Occasionally, he would catch her daydreaming of things far away.

He was losing her. He could feel it, but he couldn't let that happen. They had to leave and as quickly as possible. Something was wrong, but he just couldn't figure out what. He would wrap things up as quickly as possible. He owed his father at least that much.

Unfortunately, in order to close everything up he had to put in long hours in the office and it always worried him to leave her alone too long. When he would arrive home and find her there he could breath easier again. Every night he would make love to her to reassure him self that she was still his. He needed her like the very air he breathed.

~~~~~~~~~~

Two weeks later Vanessa Stanton called on Isabelle. When Phillip, the butler, told her that Vanessa Stanton was downstairs in the sitting room she was taken aback. She hesitated for an instant and then went downstairs.

Isabelle could feel her pulse speeding up. She took a deep breath before she turned the door handle. Walking inside the sitting room she came face to face with John's mother. Vanessa Stanton spoke first.

"I believe I owe you an apology," she said right off the bat.

"Mrs. Stanton..." Isabelle was unable to continue.

"Please! I behaved very badly."

Isabelle walked over to her, pointed for her to sit down, and then sat across from her.

"Isabelle, I didn't give you a chance," Vanessa said looking rather embarrassed.

"Mrs. Stanton, I understand you want the best for John..."

"Isabelle, you are the best for John. He loves you!"

"Mrs. Stanton...." Isabelle tried again before she was interupted.

"Vanessa.......please call me Vanessa."

Isabelle looked at her for a moment before she continued. "Vanessa, I love John more than anything in this world. I don't want my loving him ever to hurt him."

"Well, then this is were we meet, Isabelle," said Vanessa Stanton with a smile, recieving one in return.

~~~~~~~~~~

Vanessa also visited her son that day. When she told him she had called on Isabelle, he immediately left her in mid sentence and picked up the telephone. After Isabelle had reassured him that all was well he continued his conversation with his mother.

He had to confess that he was glad that she had come around. She was a difficult woman at times to deal with but she loved him and he knew that. It would have hurt him to leave things as they had been between them. Mother and son made a fragile peace.

~~~~~~~~~~

In two weeks or so they would be leaving New York. He could see the light at the end of the tunnel and he breathed more easily. He was going to be happy with Isabelle. He knew that after leaving the States all would be well with Isabelle again. Only two more weeks, that's all he had to hang on for, just two more weeks and all would be well again.

~~~~~~~~~~

Vanessa and Karl Stanton were sponsors of the Frick Museum. Before John and Isabelle left New York, the Stanton's were hosting a cocktail party at the Museum to benefit a new exhibit. Vanessa called and invited Isabelle, asking her to bring John. Isabelle wanted so very much to make peace between them before they left, so she gladly agreed, and John went along with it.

Isabelle was glad to make this consolatory gesture, after all she was taking Vanessa's son to live outside the country. Vanessa had been very forthcoming with her approval of their marriage and Isabelle was glad for John.

The cocktail party was scheduled for 8 PM. John and Isabelle arrived shortly after 9. Whitney caught up to them as soon as they arrived.

The place was jammed with people and filled with talk and music. In one corner was a quartet playing Mozart.

John introduced Isabelle to a few people and all was going splendidly. He went to get her and Whitney each a flute of champagne.

Although Isabelle had met Whitney in the Hamptons through mutual acquaintances, since their arrival in New York she had been a true friend. Isabelle knew that she had helped to smooth things over with John's mother, and that she really cared for John. Whitney had been an only child and she and John had kind of grown up together since their parents had been close friends.

"When are you two leaving?" Whitney asked Isabelle.

"In a week or so," Isabelle replied with a smile.

"If you ever need to talk, or a friend's point of view, I'm available Isabelle."

Isabelle looked at her. "Thanks..." she said simply, unable to continue. Perhaps one day she might be able to trust other people but for Isabelle it was one day at a time. Trust was hard for her.

John was walking through the crowd towards the bar when Franklin Benjamin Caldwell met him.

"John, my boy how have you been?" Franklin asked.

"Franklin, it's great to see you. I'm doing fine," John answered as he shook hands with the older man.

"The last time Karl and I had lunch you were abroad."

"Yes, I got married," John told him happily. "Married?" Franklin asked in surprise.

"Yes, she's here. I'll bring her over and introduce you."

"That's wonderful, my boy. I'm sure she's lovely."

"Lovely, is an understatement. She's damn beautiful and the perfect woman for me," John said proudly of his wife.

"Well then I can hardly wait to meet her. Karl and Vanessa must be estatic." Franklin was truly happy for John.

"Yes, she's very special," John said as he walked towards the bar.

Isabelle and Whitney were laughing when he got back with their drinks.

"Darling, someone wants to meet you," John said as he handed Isabelle her drink.

"Okay." She smiled at him.

"Excuse us Whitney, be back in a sec." John was incredibly happy.

The night had been a success. Isabelle had seen that things were working out after all. She was still looking at John, finishing a sentence with a smile on her face when they stopped and she heard him say.

"Isabelle, darling, these are very old and good friends of my parents and mine. Franklin Benjamin Caldwell and his wife Victoria." No sooner had he finished saying their names when Isabelle turned her head. She froze instantly.

"Franklin, Victoria, this is my wife Isabelle," John said happily until he noticed that something was very wrong. He looked from a one face to another.

"Isabelle?" he asked with obvious concern.

"Let's go John!" she said turning to face him. He looked from her to Franklin who said nothing.

"Isabelle...." he started to say.

"Please! Let's go!" She started walking away.

John looked at Franklin and then went after his wife. He caught up with her as she went through one of the doors leading out to the courtyard.

"Isabelle, what's wrong?" He grabbed her arm and turned her around to face him.

"Let's go. Take me home. Please take me home." She began to beg him hysterically.

"Isabelle, calm down. What is it? What is the matter?"

"Tell him," a voice said from behind them.

Isabelle became very still.

John turned around and was faced with Franklin and Victoria Caldwell.

"Tell him!" Franklin demanded again.

"John these are my parents," Isabelle said quite calmly.

John looked at Franklin and back to Isabelle.

"Tell him!" Franklin growled. Isabelle visibly winced.

John could see her starting to shake and about to go into tears.

"She's got nothing to tell me!" John was furious. Victoria just stood there in silence.

Isabelle looked towards her mother and she started to sway. She was about to collapse when John was there to hold her.

"Its all right darling, we're going home." His only concern was for her now.

"John!" Franklin called out.

"Not one more word!" John directed his anger towards Franklin.

"You have to know..." started to say Franklin before John interrupted. Isabelle clung to John unable to look at her father.

"What kind of monster are you? How could you have shot your own child?" He spat out.

"John!" Franklin exclaimed, grabbing Isabelle by the arm.

"Oh no!" She cried.

John shoved him away. "If you ever touch her again I'll kill you. Do you hear me? I'll kill you!" He picked Isabelle up in his arms and walked through the garden and out to the street.

Her head just lay limply on his shoulder. He could hear sobbing as she clung to him. They drove home in silence. He carried her into the house and past a surprised and concerned Philip.

John continued up to their bedroom. She lay very still and looked very pale. Her eyes were far away as tears rolled down her cheeks. He was angry and at the same time he was scared. So angry not to have been able to protected her. Within minutes he saw all the pain and anguish she must have lived through.

He remembered how she just cringed and cried as her father reached for her. How could people that he cared for and admired have been the same people that had been so cruel and callous with the woman that he loved?

He just stared at her feeling helpless. Nothing he could say, nothing at this moment, to erase all the hurt inside her. And he was afraid. He was afraid for her. She was lost in her memories, reliving a past that was only filled with pain for her.

He could see it in her eyes. She was far away. He sat down next to her and pulled her into his arms. He held her close and stroked her hair. She cried herself to sleep in his arms and he watched over her as she slept.

She suddenly woke in the middle of the night and hid her face on his chest. He held her tightly. She tried pulling away and he refused to let go. She looked into his eyes and all he saw there were tears about to be shed.

He kissed her passionately, tasting her tears as they rolled down her cheeks. He kissed her eyes and her forehead; he kissed her neck and started stroking her body in places he knew excited her.

"No John..." she was unable to finish the sentence when his mouth covered hers. He kissed her until he felt her response. "You still want me?" She questioned in a whispered.

"I've never stopped," he answered as he sought her mouth once more. He made love to her more than once. His passion for her would burn out all her doubts.

~~~~~~~~~~

Isabelle did not get up in the morning. She seemed lifeless and depressed, and looked weak and frail. He would arrange for their immediate departure. The only person he trusted to stay with her was Whitney. He called her to stay with Isabelle until he came back later that day.

Whitney asked no questions, just agreeing to come. He left immediately after telling Isabelle that he was going out to arrange their departure. She smiled but did not try to get out of bed. He was more concerned than he showed.

"Whitney will be here in a few minutes darling, and I'll be back soon." He kissed her and walked out.

A few minutes later Philip knocked on her bedroom door. "I'm sorry to disturb you madam, but a woman downstairs saying she's your mother. She would like to see you," he announced to Isabelle. It took her but a moment to recover from the surprise.

"I'll be right down Philip, please, ask her to wait." She slowly started getting out of bed.

She went down the stairs slowly. When she reached the lower landing she felt weak and a little dizzy. Phillip walked towards her. "Madam, are you feeling all right? Shall I call Mr. Stanton?" His concern was evident in his tone of voice.

"No, thank you Philip, I'll be all right," she said, straightening up and walked slowly into the drawing room.

Before last night she hadn't seen her mother in seven years. She had gotten older, of course, and she looked very tired.

"How are you feeling?" Victoria Caldwell asked her daughter.

"How am I suppose to be feeling mother?" Isabelle asked a question of her own.

"You don't look well, sit down."

Indeed, feeling weak, Isabelle sat down. "Why are you here mother?"

"I was worried about you last night," she said as she sat down across from Isabelle.

"I'm fine," Isabelle replied softly.

"You should have taken your medication right away. You know what the doctor said to you. If you don't..." Isabelle interrupted her mother before she could finish.

"I know what he said mother," she said wearily.

"Why didn't you take the medication?"

"I haven't taken it for over four months," she answered and Victoria was not surprised.

"I thought it might be something like that," she said sadly.

"Well, its good to see that you know me so well since you never saw me much, mother," Isabelle said sarcastically.

"Why, why are you doing it? You don't want John to find out?"

"John knows mother." Isabelle's voice was again weary.

This surprised Victoria who paused a minute before asking, "Then why?"

"Because I love him. If I were to leave he would find me again. The greatest gift I can give him is to die mother."

Victoria looked away from Isabelle as her eyes filled with tears. Isabelle took a deep breath and continued.

"I'm tired of my life mother. Tired of all this pain. The best thing that I can do for the only person who has ever loved me is to die. It's the only way he'll be free."

"John doesn't know about your heart does he?" Victoria asked.

"No," Isabelle answered simply before standing up. "Go mother, you've done your duty. You've made your yearly visit," she said sadly.

"I'm sorry Isabelle." Tears welled up in Victoria's eyes.

"Tell father he'll be free of me soon," Isabelle threw over her shoulder as she walked towards the door.

"Isabelle!" Victoria called out to her daughter.

"Go home mother. The visit is over." Isabelle walked out.

~~~~~~~~~~

She became vaguely familiar that there was someone in the room with her. She felt tired and her eyes felt heavy. She saw Whitney and then all she saw was darkness. When her eyes opened again she looked around and saw Whitney sitting on a chair next to her bed. Whitney leaned over as soon as she realized Isabelle was awake.

"Isabelle, are you all right? Can I get you anything?" Her voice sounded concerned.

"No, I'm all right," Isabelle said softly.

"John and I are worried about you."

"I know," she answered as she closed her eyes once more.

"Isabelle, the pain may get better for the telling," said Whitney.

Isabelle looked at her and smiled sadly. "Sometimes the pain never goes away; it just grows."

"John loves you so much. Trust his judgment, he won't let you down." Whitney said, trying to reassure her. Isabelle merely smiled and went back to sleep.

~~~~~~~~~~

He was making arrangements as quickly as humanly possible. He had called the house several times and spoken to Whitney. Isabelle seemed depressed and was still asleep. He was finishing up some paperwork when his private line rang. He picked up the receiver quickly. "Hello?" He spoke into the receiver.

"John, it's Mother." He felt relieved.

"Yes mother, what is it?" He asked in a hurry.

"I lost sight of you two last night."

"We left early. Isabelle wasn't feeling well."

"Could she be pregnant?" She asked hopefully. John was caught off guard.

"No, Mother she hasn't been sleeping well that's all."

"Well I hope she feels better," said Vanessa.

"Thanks Mother...Good-bye." He hung up the phone.

She had thought that Isabelle might be pregnant. He ran his fingers through his hair. Why had this happened to them? Why had life done this to them?

He finally admitted to himself that this was not easy. He wanted to have children with her and that would never be. He would have wanted to show off to the world the woman he loved and not be afraid of the outcome. He wanted the impossible.

Most of all he wanted to make a perfect world for her and perhaps in time and far away from here he could. He would certainly try or he knew he would lose her. Something inside him told him that it was only a matter of time. He would lose Isabelle; sooner or later he would loose her.

He was brought back to reality when the intercom on his desk buzzed.

"Yes Audrey?" He said into the machine.

"Mr. Stanton you said you didn't want to be disturbed but a woman here insists on seeing you. She says she is Mrs. Stanton's mother." He became very alert.

"What's her name?"

"She says her name is Victoria Caldwell..." he did not wait for Audrey to continue.

"Let her in," he said, standing to meet Isabelle's mother.

Victoria Caldwell walked in slowly. She looked at John and walked up to his desk. "Please sit down," he said to her. She sat. He sat back behind his desk, waiting for her to speak.

"John I must speak with you." She spoke in a very soft voice.

"I know everything Victoria, you have nothing to tell me," he said in exasperation.

"I'm so glad that...that she has found someone to love her," Victoria said looking at the floor not at John.

"Yes, I do love her."

"I went to see her today and she is not well," she told John.

"You went to the house?" He asked incredulously.

"Yes, I was worried after last night."

"How could you not love her Victoria? She's so easy to love." Silence was the only reponse that John recieved. "Why are you here?" He finally asked.

"She is ill." Finally she looked up at John.

"Yes, it's a miracle she's still alive after everything she's been through," he said sadly.

"No, I mean she has a heart condition and has not been taking her medication." Her news landed on him like a ton of bricks. He sat very still.

"What are you saying?" He could not believe what he had heard.

"I saw her last night and how she got so pale. I noticed she didn't take the medicine as she was suppose to right away. The doctor said that if it was taken as soon as she started to feel badly it would avoid an attack." John just sat staring at her. He had become a statue, lifeless.

"You said that she was told she must take medication immediately?" His question was barely audible.

"Yes, when Isadore was a child we found out he had a heart condition. It was controlled with medication."

"Why? Why didn't she tell me?" Even though he'd spoke out loud, he was questioning himself, not her.

"She wants to die John," stated Victoria. He looked at her in shock. "I gave in to Franklin at every turn. I'll have to live with that the rest of my life. But I can't let this happen." John just stared at her.

"Franklin was married once before. Isabelle is his daughter, not mine. I raised her though. And you're right he...I'm sorry she was the most beautiful and loving baby; sensitive and happy. I held her as a child. She'd fall asleep in my arms, looking into my eyes lovingly, trusting me to keep her safe. I let Franklin..." she could not continue.

John just sat, silently listening as Victoria continued to talk. "Franklin never spoke of Margot. That was Isabelle's mother. He loved her. When she left him, he took the child away from her and never let her see it again. As the years past by I realized that he had never stopped loving Margot and he loved her still through Isadore. That's what she called their son. Franklin was so obsessed his son, that I began to resent Isadore for it. And I'm ashamed to say that when Isadore began to fail him in his expectations, I was glad."

John got up and stood next to the window looking out into the street. Victoria continued.

"When it became obvious to him that Isadore was a disappointment, he sent him away. That child cried all night long, begging me not to send him away. I didn't even try to convince Franklin. Every year on Isadore's birthday Margot would call and beg Franklin to see her son. He waited by the phone every year for that phone call. He still does. The night he shot Isadore she called and he told her that their son had died. She never called again. He still waits by that phone on Isadore's birthday every year." She took another deep breath and continued.

"That night, I saw the horror of what we had done. I had allowed Franklin to torture that poor child. I was suppose to be his mother, and I allowed Franklin to torture that innocent, loving child. When I saw him covered in blood I realized what a monster I had allowed myself to become." Victoria began to cry as she finished her story.

John looked at her in complete disbelief and horror. "My God...what have you people done?" He was unable to control the disgust in his voice.

"She wants to die, John," she said to him again He ran his ringers through his hair in an obvious defeated gesture. "She wants to save you. She doesn't want you to be hurt some day if people find out. She wants to die to free you."

"My God...my God! She wants to free me?" He asked as tears rolled down his face. He felt helpless and overwhelmed with such emotion that he could not control it.

She wanted to die to spare him the pain of loving her. He had wanted everything and because of that he had been selfish. He should never have brought her back. He wanted to make her something she could never be. He had brought her back here, where all she had known was pain because he wanted to include her and make her a part of a life he was used to.

He should have seen it. She had come to please him knowing that it would hurt her and all this time she had stopped taking the medicine. She loved him enough to desire death and he had not even been able to give up his old life for her. All that kept going through his head was that he should never have brought her back.

Victoria got up and John looked back in her direction. "Keep Franklin away from Isabelle John. He is...he has gotten worse since the shooting. When Margot called that night, I saw him and I realized that he had shot Isadore because he was Margot's son. After he spoke with her he started to talk and talk. He shot Isadore because he thought that life had played a horrible joke on him. He hadn't seen Isadore for almost ten years. When he saw Isabelle that night he saw Margot's face looking back at him., and he shot her for having taken his son. But he had shot Isadore of course."

John could not believe all that he was hearing. "I found out a few years ago where Margot Strassburg lives. Here is her address," she said, handing John a piece of paper. "I don't want to be a party to hurting Isabelle anymore. Take her away John. Take her far away from Franklin. Someday I hope..." she was unable to finish the sentence.

She walked over to the door, then stopped and spoke again. "Love her John, love her. She was easy to love but she never was." Having said this she walked out of his office. John stood looking at the closed door.

Suddenly he realized he had to act. A doctor, he needed to contact a heart specialist right away. With his money and connections he made the impossible happen. Within the hour he had an appointment with the best heart specialist in the country. He had to get to Isabelle. He would help her to understand that all he needed in life was her.

~~~~~~~~~~

He had his car wait for him in front of his building so he could fly home. When the car pulled up in front of his home he did not wait for the chauffeur to open his car door. John ran up the steps of the brownstone.

Philip met him in the foyer. "Phillip, where is Mrs. Stanton?"

"She is upstairs, sir," answered Phillip. John started quickly towards the staircase.

"Sir..." Phillip called out. John turned around to face him.

"Yes? Phillip can it wait?" He asked in exasperation.

"No, sir it can't," Phillip stated firmly, surprising John.

"Sir, Mrs. Stanton is not well. She almost collapsed at the bottom of the staircase today. She asked me not to say anything, but sir, she is such a lovely lady. She asked me not to say anything to you, sir, so as not to worry you. But sir, I would feel worse if something were to happen to her because I did not tell you."

John looked at Philip and gave him a nod of appreciation then turned around and ran up the stairs. He went into their bedroom and found Isabelle asleep.

Whitney was sitting in a chair by the corner. She walked up to him in silence, briefly rubbed his shoulder, and walked out of the room, closing the door behind her.

Slowly he walked and stood next to the bed. He stood looking at her for a long time. She looked so peaceful as she slept. Probably the only time she was ever at peace was when she slept. He pulled a chair over next to the bed and sat to watch over her.

He wasn't sure how long he had been watching her when she stirred. Her eyes slowly opened.

~~~~~~~~~~

The room was dark. But the darkness to her was cool and enveloping. She closed her eyes, then opened them again. She looked around her dreamily until she noticed him sitting in a chair close to her. She recognized her husband immediately. Even in the darkness she could see his eyes looking into her soul. She became as still as he.

He got up and slowly moved towards her. He sat next to her on the bed and caressed her face so tenderly, barely touching her afraid that she might break.

"Feeling better?" He asked barely audible.

"Yes." She wasn't sure how long she had been resting. "Have you been here long?" She ventured to ask.

"No, not long" he said. He looked at her with intensely, examining every part of her face.

She looked at him with a sense of curiosity. He got up and stood in front of the window. She could see the outline of him against the light shinning through the curtain. He stood looking out only for a little while, then he removed his coat and started undressing.

She followed his movements in the dark. He got in bed and took her in his arms. He held her close afraid to speak.

"You feel good," she said finally as she burrowed her face in his chest. Breathing in his scent and exhaling with satisfaction.

She always felt safe in John's embrace. She wanted him for as long as time would allow. She knew enough about her illness to realize that she was not well. Her medication had assured her life but she had chosen death. And she knew that one day she would simply not wake up.

"Don't you love me enough to live for me?" She heard him ask and she instantly tensed in his arms. "Live for me Isabelle. The idea of lying in the dark alone without you fills me with terror. I don't want what there was before you. Don't sentence me to a life of loneliness. Fight for me...please?"

She stood very still in his arms. Tears started welling up and spilling over. He took her chin and raised it to meet his eyes.

"You are my future. Love me enough to fight for me." His lips kissed her tenderly. She was about to say something when he put his finger on her lips. "Your mother came to see me," he said to her and she instantly understood.

She sat up and he sat next to her. "We are going to see a specialist tomorrow, so that he can tell me how my heart is doing, and what I have to do to keep it working for at least another forty or fifty years. Because, Isabelle, it's not your heart that will cease to beat but mine if anything happens to you" he finished saying holding his breath as he waited for her answer.

"I do love you John. You have to believe that." She was facing him now.

"I do." Her hand caressed his face tenderly.

"I'm sorry you found out," she said as tears rolled down her cheek.

"How can you say that Isabelle?" He pulled her into his arms and held her tightly.

"John, all I can bring you is shame. Don't you see that?" She pulled away from him and started getting out of bed.

He grabbed her arm and pulled her back on the bed. He was over her, pinning her down, not allowing her to move.

"You idiot, you idiot. How can you say that to me? You are the reason I feel alive. All I have ever felt was alone. Always needing and never knowing how to fill the void inside me. You have made me whole, and if you think I'm going to let you go you must be crazy!" His anger was clear in his voice.

"I don't want to be the one to hurt you...and one day you know I will," she said to him in tears.

"I'll gladly die tomorrow to live today, because that's what would happen if I were to lose you Isabelle. I would die." And his words brought her closer to him then any embrace could have. Her arms went around him and she cried into his chest as he held on tightly.

~~~~~~~~~~

They were taken directly into Dr. Matthew Bernstein's private office. John had used all his influence to get this appointment. People usually waited close to six months for an appointment, but they didn't have six months.

The doctor asked Isabelle many questions and discussed the tests he wanted her to have. He made it quite clear that she had been very irresponsible with her medication and wanted her back on it immediately. He picked up the phone and one of his assistants took them to another room as he set up all the necessary tests and paperwork.

She was to have rest and it was made clear that she was not to let anything upset her. The next few days were hell. Not knowing exactly what her condition was the worse thing of all.

John stayed with her every moment. Screening everything and everyone that came in contact with her. He could hardly believe it when he got a call from Dr. Bernstein that all the tests were in and the doctor wanted to see them both in the morning.

He hung up the phone and sat down on the chair nearest to him. He was tired and scared, afraid of the news and at the same time he needed to know desperately. He sat in the chair for a long time alone in the foyer.

He looked around him and felt the emptiness in the house. He couldn't lose her. Phillip was coming in when he saw John sitting in the chair, stopping before John noticed him. John couldn't contain the fear and the emotions inside him. His fingers ran through his hair as he felt the weight of the world on him.

She could die were the words that went through his mind over and over; he held the sides of his head as his body shook with sobs.

Phillip lowered his head in sadness and quietly walked out of the room. His question could keep. If the young Mrs. Stanton were to die, he could see that her husband would take it very badly. She had been kind to him and he had to admit he had grown to be fond of her as well.

He had worked for John Stanton for over five years now, but John was another man since coming back with his beautiful wife. She had brightened this house and had made it a home. The whole staff was fond of her. And when they all realized that she was very ill they genuinely felt sorry.

When she was in the room her husband was cheerful but as soon as she left, all around him could see the sadness in him. He had to admit, it had moved him very much to see the young man in tears, allowing himself his grief alone and away from her. He hoped that the news would not be bad.

~~~~~~~~~~

"John, is she going to be alright?" Vanessa asked visibly concerned.

"I don't know mother," he said in a tired voice. He walked over to the bar and reached for one of the decanters. Karl and Vanessa looked at each other. Karl spoke first.

"John what did he say?"

"We have to see dad, she's had so many tests already." With a large gulp, he emptied his glass.

"When does she see him again?" Vanessa asked. John put the glass down and closed his eyes for a moment.

He had his back to them, his shoulders started to droop. Vanessa was seated on the couch and got up immediately but Karl stopped her before she was able to walk over to John. He turned to face them visibly in more control of his emotions.

"I'm sure she's going to be fine." Vanessa said reassuringly with a smile that she did not feel.

"Of course, she's going to be fine. Do you remember Freddie Mason? He was pretty bad for awhile, heart trouble too. Now you wouldn't know that he had been sick at all." Karl tried to reassure his son. Vanessa sat down again. All three tried to portray a confidence they didn't feel. John gave them a half smile.

"Karl why don't you go get the car, dear. It's so cold and you know how I am about the cold." Karl took the hint and left mother and son alone together.

Vanessa got up and walked over to her son very slowly. It had been so simple to comfort him when he was a child. All she had to do was hold him and it would all be better.

This was something Vanessa was not prepared for. She felt helpless to aid him. She quite suddenly realized that if anything were to happen to Isabelle her son would never recover from it.

She was filled with an overwhelming need to protect him. As she got right in front of him she did the only thing she could think of. She pulled him into her embrace. He resisted for a moment then quite suddenly he clung to her sobbing.

She held him even closer to her. Words were not necessary. But she could not have spoken if she tried. She could feel the tears building in her eyes and the lump growing in her throat.

John had always been so strong. Even as a boy he had been proud to stand-alone. And knowing this made her heart ache for him even more. After awhile he became still and pulled away from her. He was in control again. He walked to the door and before he left her he turned to her

"Thanks Mom. I'm going up to Isabelle."

"Yes, go on John," she said with a smile. When the door closed behind him she just stood there staring at it.

She reached for the back of a chair to sustain her. It had broken her heart to see the pain in him. But her pain was not important. She had to be strong for him.

They had been so close when he was a child, and, somehow along the years that closeness had been strained. But, today he had needed her and had clung to her in his pain. And, all she could do was hold him tightly to her and somehow it had been enough.

~~~~~~~~~~

They both received the doctor's news differently. It had not been good but as the doctor said it might have been worse. There had been some damage to her heart. She needed to go back on the medication and follow his instructions to the letter. She might still have a long life if she wanted to, but she had to want to.

After the doctor's visit, the strain began between them. Because of the treatment, it was decided that they not travel for a while. John became incredibly over protective and Isabelle became more distant.

John decided that he should try to find Margot Strassburg and see if this could be something that might bring Isabelle some peace and happiness. So three days later he went looking for her.

He had no trouble finding the address. If his luck held out she might still be living there. He got out of his car and started walking a few yards down the street. He looked down at the piece of paper in his hand and back up at the house in front of him.

This was it 165 Meadows Lane. He went up the few steps and knocked on the front door. He waited a few seconds and proceeded to knock again. This time he heard a female voice call out. "Coming." He waited in anticipation.

The door swung open and a woman holding onto a wet squirming puppy met him. She smiled

"May I help you?" She said, as he stood speechless for a brief moment. Before him was an older version of his Isabelle.

This was Margot Strassburg. "Yes, Ms. Strassburg. My name is John Stanton. I wish to speak to you about...your son." The smile on the woman's face disappeared.

"Who are you?" She asked with a hint of anger in her voice.

"I'm...may I come in to speak to you?"

"No!"She answered in an agitated state. The puppy jumped out of her hands and ran inside. "Please leave." She started to shut the door in his face.

"Isadore is not dead!" John blurted out. She was visibly shaken and stood staring at him in disbelief.

"Please, if Franklin has sent you to torture me, please....Don't do this. Don't do this. My son died many years ago." Her voice shook with emotion.

"Isadore is alive," John said again. For a moment she stood unable to speak.

"Where is he? Please tell me where he is?" She pleaded as her eyes filled with unshed tears.

"I think it's time you know each other. It's time to make things right for both of you."

"Come in...please...Come in." She stepped aside and John walked into the living room of Isabelle's mother's house.

"Please, won't you sit down?" She pointed to the sofa. John nodded and sat facing her as she sat opposite of him. He didn't quite know where to begin but begin he must. "I'm sorry Ms. Strassburg, I don't know quite how to start," he said to her gently.

"Is he all right?" She asked softly. Her eyes asked so much more.

"Yes." he said simply.

"Where is he? Please tell me were he is."

"Here in New York City." A long silence followed. "My family has known Frankilin for many years. I never would have believed he could have been capable of such a monstrosity."

Her eyes shot back to him.

"I know he kept your son from you. I know he told you that he was dead. I only found out about your existence a few days ago."

She listened quietly and he continued. "The best way to tell you what has happened all these years is the way it was told to me, so you can understand...so you can help your son...so you can understand just how much he needs you." John stopped.

She looked at him and her hand covered one of his gently. "You love my son," she said.

"Yes."

"Tell me...I'll listen," she assured him.

"I was having lunch with a friend in the Hamptons one afternoon and quite suddenly I saw a young woman..."

~~~~~~~~~~

An hour later he had finished his story. He had been looking at her hand over his throughout the entire story. He had not looked up, not even once.

She has to understand, he kept repeating to himself. She just had to. He took a deep breath, exhaled and looked up.

Her eyes were veiled to him. She got up very slowly and walked towards the window. She stood there a few minutes looking out into the street. He stood up too.

"You must understand, Isabelle needs you. She needs something I can't give her. She needs to know that someone else loved her. She is so easy to love." Tears welled up in his eyes. "I need your help...help me to save her...please...I beg you!" He pleaded with her. She turned to face him.

"No, you don't understand. I just can't believe that my son is alive. The last time I saw him he was just a baby...so beautiful. I slowly came to know the real Franklin. I knew that I had to leave him and I filed for divorce before I even told him. I thought that I could leave him and start a knew life with my baby. But, Franklin proved to be more of a monster than I thought. He was furious when he found out. He threw me out of the house and vowed never to let me have my baby. At first I still had hope that I might get him back. Then one night I agreed to meet him. He said that he regretted what had happened, that he was going to let me have Isadore. I went there and he was indeed waiting for me. It was a house in the country. He often used it when he went hunting. He kept me there for nine days. He...hurt me...many times before he left..." She sobbed as she continued. "He said he would rather see my baby dead than for me to have him. I believed him."

Looking at John with tear filled eyes she stopped for a moment. "Want him? You can't imagine how much I want him. I have wanted him every second of his life. When can I see him?" She asked anxiously.

"Isabelle doesn't know about you. I haven't told her," he said. Margot looked puzzled. "I couldn't take the chance. Not until I spoke with you first."

"Yes, of course," she said to him softly. "Do you have a picture of...her?" Margot asked hesitantly. John nodded. He reached into his pocket and took out his wallet. He retrieved a photo and handed it to her.

It was a picture they had taken together in Malaga. Isabelle had been so happy then. They were holding each other smiling into the camera. Margot looked at the picture as if to study every inch of it. Her other hand touched it softly and tenderly and as her eyes came up to meet his a smile appeared on her face.

"She is very beautiful," she said simply.

"Yes, she is."

~~~~~~~~~~

Isabelle was resting in the drawing room when Phillip came in to let her know she had a visitor.

"Mrs. Stanton, there is a gentlemen to see you. His name is Frankilin Benjamin Caldwell." As soon as he finished saying this he noticed how Isabelle went still. "Madam, do you wish me to send him away?"

"No Phillip, bring him in here please," she replied softly. Isabelle braced herself for what was to come. She had been expecting this visit. She had just thought it might have taken him a little longer.

It is time to face the tiger, she thought to herself. She took a deep breath before the door was opened and in walked her father.

He seemed as he had always seemed to her. Somehow she realized time had not changed him. She had hoped that as her mother had come to her he might too. But to look at him she realized that this meeting would be a painful one.

"Come in Father, please sit down." She pointed to the chair across from her without getting up from her seat.

He sat down without so much as a word. He kept eye contact with her until she was forced to look away. He had not changed.

"Why are you here?" She asked softly as she looked up again.

"You must know why. Did you think that I would let you destroy John Stanton!" He retorted harshly.

"I don't want to hurt him. I love him. He is my husband."

"He can't be your husband. I am here to make sure you don't ruin this family!" He yelled. "I want to see you leave these people alone. Isn't it enough that you have destroyed all that you have ever touched?"

"I have never wanted to hurt anyone. I'm sorry that you could not see that." She was looking at him now.

"You have been a curse to me. But I will not allow you to destroy this family!" He yelled in his almighty voice.

"I don't want to hurt John. I love him. And he loves me."

"He doesn't know what you are. He thinks he does but he doesn't," he finished in disgust.

"Father, don't do this to me." She spoke as the tears started running down her face. "Father, I love him. He is the only thing I have ever wanted. Don't take him away from me Father. It would kill me."

For a moment it seemed that Franklin was moved. He stared at Isabelle as if she were someone else. Her eyes beseeched him and for a second she honestly thought that she had reached. Until, his eyes became even colder than before.

"You are like your mother. She thought she could have her way. I had to teach her otherwise." He said malevolently. "Leave him, or I will leak this to the press."

Isabelle could not believe what he had said. She stared at him in pain and confusion. "Father..."

"Do it soon, or I will do as I say," he growled.

Her head bowed in defeat. "I will need time. He has to think I don't care for him. If he suspects anything else he will follow me and he would never be free."

"I give you a month. Do it. And I want to hear you tell him," he said with satisfaction.

She looked up and could not believe the hatred in his eyes. "Why?" she asked incredulous.

"I want to make sure that it is done."

Isabelle nodded. Franklin stood up and walked out of the room.

She sat unable to believe what had just happened. Why did he hate her so much? How could she have hoped that he might have come to see her out of concern? He had always hated her.

No, not always. She remembered when she was little. She remembered him putting her to bed, telling her stories of heroes long gone by; she remembered kindness from him. And that is what she had always wanted to find in him again. It surprised her that she still harbored that hope until today.

With pain, she finally accepted the fact that her father would never love her. And it hurt to think that. Even after all the years it still hurt her. And now, he was taking the only thing she had ever had. He had set a price for his silence and she would gladly pay it.

~~~~~~~~~~

John turns toward Isabelle, trying to control his anger. "Why are we fighting over something like this?"

She opened her mouth as if to say something but changed her mind. He didn't look angry anymore. They stood only a few feet apart and yet it seemed a great distance.

"What's wrong Isabelle?" He asked softly.

She just stared back at him with the same sadness in her eyes as in his.

"What's happening to us? I always thought we were like one. I knew what you felt by just looking into your eyes. I can't tell anymore. You're shutting me out." They both stood miles away

"I had Phillip move my things to the guest room," she told him then she turned and walked away. And, as she walked away from him he ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

She was shutting him out slowly but surely. Every time he came close to her, she would find some excuse to push him away. At first, it had been understandable, after all, she had been sick. He had understood. But, as the weeks went by he began to feel the distance between them.

It had been the little things in the beginning. Like telling him not to hold her too tight because she was afraid of not being able to breathe. Then it was not having meals together because of her special diet it was better for her to dine earlier.

It wasn't so much what she would say but what she didn't say. Communication was non existent lately. And, when he would try to please her she would find some excuse to get angry with him.

He walked into the library and leaned his back against the door as he closed it. Something along the way had gone wrong and he couldn't figure out what. He walked slowly towards the bar, poured himself a scotch, and drank it quickly. He did this many times over.

~~~~~~~~~~

She felt cold. She always felt cold lately. She wrapped her arms around herself protectively in a gesture of comfort as she stared out the window. It had started to snow about an hour before. And, everything had a cover of white. It all seemed so beautiful and clean. This was something she could have shared with John. But, they shared nothing now. She had seen to that. He had taken more maltreatment from her than she would have ever imagined.

At first she knew it might be because he was afraid to upset her, after all she had a heart condition. But, slowly he began to notice the distance growing between them and she began to see doubt in his eyes. He began to be afraid that he would lose her. He knew that things were going from bad to worse between them and so he opted to saying nothing rather than to upset her further.

He would go into his library and stay there most of the night. As the arguments became more frequent she began to notice the physical change in him.

He started to lose weight and he started to look tired all the time. She had also noticed soon after the Scotch bottle in his library was being filled often by Phillip.

Once she walked in as Phillip was filling the decanter and as he finished pouring, he looked away in embarrassment.

She had promised to love him and she was hurting him more than anyone ever had. She had to put an end to this and she would. She just didn't know how to say the words. How could she tell him she didn't love him when all she did was long for him?

Her father wanted to witness her goodbye. In two days they were to attend the fundraiser for an exhibition at the Whitney Museum. She would do it then. The sooner the better. She would finally set him free from the exposure her father had threatened her with.

Isabelle had stood in front of the window for a long time in silence looking at the snow as it fell slowly before hitting the ground. She turned in shock as her bedroom door burst open with a loud crash.

"You're my wife. You belong in my bed not here!" Se spat at her. He stumbled inside the room. She stared at him in disbelief. He was drunk, she could smell the scotch. "I have waited and waited for you! Do you know how it hurts to want you?" He was yelling at her.

"John please...." Was all she could say in a quiet voice.

"Please?" He yelled back in disbelief at her.

He was upon her instantly. Holding her tightly to him looking into her eyes in disbelief and anguish. He was pulling her closer to him and his mouth was on her mouth demanding a response.

He had wanted her for so long that all he could see at this moment was his need for her. The more she tried pushing him away the more he wanted her. His hands moved aggressively over her body.

She began to whimper out of frustration. He was allowing only his passion for her to guide him. He scooped her up and within the batting of an eyelash she felt the bed under her and Johns body on her.

"No!" she kept saying as she was fighting him. He got angry and grabbed the front of her dress and tore it exposing her breasts. His mouth descended on one of her nipples and she gasped from the pain.

This was not the man she loved but the man she had created and she began to sob. Her crying reached him as her words had not and he got off her.

John sat on the bed next to her not believing what he had done or what he wanted to do. All he could hear was her crying. He closed his eyes.

"I'm sorry...I'm sorry...This will never happen again." Was all he said before he got up and walked out closing what remained of the door behind him. He walked out never looking at her once. Isabelle cried herself to sleep.

It was all coming to an end. She cried herself to sleep dreaming of what might have been.

~~~~~~~~~~

He was filled with a feeling of such joy. It had been so long since she had touched him. She was touching him! His eyes closed in disbelief and inhaled slowly with such desire that it made his body shake. He pulled her to him suddenly. They were both surrounded in a veil of desire.

"No...shhhhh..." she whispered with her finger on his lips.

Isabelle took him by the hand and walked him slowly to the bed. Her hands began to unbutton his shirt. His hands tried to do the same to her but she stopped him and shook her head. He let her have her way.

This was a part of Isabelle he had never seen before and he was both intrigued and excited. She undressed him slowly then asked him to lie down. All he could do was stare in raw excitement. Isabelle then stood before him and started to undress slowly. John could hardly control his desire for her.

"Come my Isabelle before I go insane." He said ardently extending his hand to her. She shook her head. And quite suddenly surprised him by quickly mounting him.

His hands automatically went to cup her breasts. She grabbed them and pinned them over his head. She reached for something under the pillow. She tied his left hand to the post of the bed and proceeded to tie the other.

This was not the woman he had expected and the idea of knowing her all over again filled him with even more desire for her. This was not his wife, not the woman he knew at all. And yet this was Isabelle. She was trying to seduce him and although he felt a bit uncomfortable with this game he would have done anything to have her in his bed again.

Her lips teased his and her tongue traced his lips. Her breasts were rubbing against his chest and a grunt escaped his throat. Quite suddenly she sat up and slapped him across the face. He stared at her in disbelief and she slapped him again even harder.

"Don't do that!" He yelled.

"Why? Don't you like it? It's part of love," she was saying in a seductive voice.

Her mouth came to his again. And this time as she kissed him he could feel her body rubbing up and down on his. He wanted her so much he felt he would explode if he didn't posses her. Again she lifted herself away from him and slapped his face hard

"What the hell are you doing?" He yelled. "Untie me right now!" He demanded and she smiled.

"Don't you want me?" she asked in a husky voice.

"You know I do." Her hands caressed his face and they traveled down his neck. She started pinching his nipples and his body moved in excitement once more. Her mouth went down to his chest and her tongue traveled slowly and as her lips found one nipple her fingers squeezed the other.

"Oh God! Untie me now! We don't have to do this. Untie me darling. Let me make love to you."

She sat up and smiled. "You want me?"

"Yes!" Her hands went again to his chest and up to his shoulders suggesting that they would travel up his arms to untie him. But quite suddenly they clenched up and as they traveled downward he could feel her nails cutting into his flesh.

"Enough!" He yelled.

She reached over to the nightstand for the champagne glass that was there and her breast rubbed his lips. And just as quickly his anger turned to desire again. She drank and poured champagne on his scratches.

"AH!" He winced in pain. Her mouth met his and from her lips the golden liquid rolled into his mouth. She had been in control long enough. No more games.

He pulled hard with both arms and the straps holding his hands snapped. He reached for her and threw her to the side and just as quickly mounted her. She fought him for a moment before he entered her and his mouth silenced her cries of objection.

The thrusting motions of his body both gave her pain and incredible pleasure. She had intended to push him further away from her but her body betrayed her as it began to match the movements of his own. And they both took pleasure from the moment when they came together in a rush of orgasm after orgasm.

John sat up in bed covered in perspiration. He was alone. It had been a dream. Dreaming of her had become a nightmare. The estrangement between them was slipping into his dreams. Was he so desperate for her that he would do anything? His fingers went through his hair in frustration. No! He could not let this continue. He no longer knew himself. Would he truly do anything to keep her? In some ways he thought his dream had been symbolic of his life.

His body wanted her. And somehow she had stopped needing him. How could it all have changed so quickly. She was torturing him in his dreams. John wiped his eyes and never went back to sleep that night. It had to stop; because if it continued they would both have nothing.

~~~~~~~~~~

John stood with a glass filled with a liquid the color of Amber in his hands. They were going out tonight. He felt the sadness fill him like never before. He looked down at the glass in his hand and stared at it as if it might give him the answer he so desperately seemed to be searching for.

It would be so easy to let her go he would think trying to fool himself. But it always came back to the same thing. He needed her. He loved her with all that he was. How could he leave her? It would be easier to stop breathing.

He stood in his library thinking yet again of how to reach his Isabelle. Perhaps tonight would change things. He had tried all else. In any case he would do this for her. And if she wanted nothing else from him then he would let her have her peace. Since she always seemed unhappy with him now.

He closed his eyes and he remembered. He remembered what it was like to feel alive and full of desire to see and live another day with her. She had become so much a part of him that he did not know how he would live without her if after tonight she no longer wanted him he would accept it and just walk away.

Suddenly a voice from the past filled his thoughts and he had to blink many times to come back.

"I'm ready if you are John," Isabelle said from the doorway.

He turned around and all his love shown in his eyes as he beheld her. She wore a dress the color of rich dark Prussian blue. Her shoulders were bare as the first night he first kissed her. And her hair was up again in a soft pile. All his senses came alive.

She turned her face away from him. He understood the rejection.

"Good, let's get going," he answered as if he had not felt the sting of her rejection or the coldness that seemed to grow every second between them.

~~~~~~~~~~

They arrived at the gallery, as all others seemed to. As soon as they walked into the foyer Whitney met them.

"Hi John-John. You look like hell," she said bluntly.

"Too much time in the office lately," he answered matter a factly as he took his wife's coat and handed over to the cloak attendant.

"Isabelle, you should put your foot down and keep him home," Whitney said jokingly.

"John has his own priorities these days," she said coldly and walked inside leaving them both standing in surprise.

"Everything okay?" The concern showed in Whitney's question.

"Nothing is okay," he answered and went after his wife.

Whitney stood looking at both of them walk to opposite sides of the room.

What happened? She thought to herself. They were the most in love couple she had ever seen.

They lost themselves in the crowd already gathered. Isabelle looked around and spotted John speaking to a few people then she walked out into the balcony.

Almost as if by conjuring her father appeared.

"Tonight," was all he said.

"Yes, tonight. And then it will all be over," Isabelle said to him.

"I will never say a word," Franklin hissed.

"Then after this it will be over between us."

"What does that mean? Are you threatening me?" Franklin spat at her.

"No father, I am finally saying good bye. I will finally let you go," she said sadly.

Franklin was taken aback.

"I never stopped hoping that you would love me. I somehow always hoped that you would," she said as tears rolled down her face. "I used to dream that you would love me. Would it have been so awful just to love me?"

Franklin stared in confusion. For a moment he remembered the same words spoken from the same face. He shook his head and walked away; putting some distance between them.

"You loved me once," Isabelle said softly

"You took my son away from me," he finally said with his back to her.

"Father..."

"Just do what I asked for and I will keep my word," he insisted.

After a few minutes Franklin turned around only to find himself alone in the balcony.

~~~~~~~~~~

"Ms Strassbourg," John said with a smile.

"Margot, please," she smiled nervously.

"I see Isabelle, will you wait here for a moment?"

"John I have waited a lifetime. I can wait a few more minutes..but only a few." Her smile wavered.

"Only a few. I promise." He squeezed her hand and walked over to Isabelle.

Margot followed him with her eyes. Her eyes were suddenly filled with what they sought. Her eyes welled up with tears.

~~~~~~~~~~

"John," Isabelle said sadly. "Can you give me a moment?"

"Yes, of course."

"On the balcony?"

"All right," he said,following her out.

"Aren't you cold out here?" He said as he came out behind her.

She pushed him away and took a few steps towards the rail.

"John, I'm going back to Spain," she said simply without looking at him.

He had expected something of the kind but was somehow not prepared for the impact of the words.

She turned towards him.

"I think that this is not working. What we had was good for awhile. But now..." she trailed off.

"I can go with you..." he suggested knowing that she would turn him down.

She said nothing and he turned away from her.

"When did it happen?" He said softly

"What?" She asked suspiciously.

"When did you stop loving me?" Still he did not look at her.

"I...John, I'm sorry," was all that she allowed herself to say. "One day, I hope you forgive me."

"Isabelle, When?" He faced her now. He wasn't going to let her go without a fight.

"John please...don't." She turned away from him.

"I know I made mistakes. You're breaking my heart," he finally said. "How could you just stop loving? You said forever Isabelle! I believed you! You said forever!" He was angry now.

She faced him with all the strength she had left over. "I don't love you anymore. I'm sorry!" She spat out.

The silence stood between them like a wall of ice.

"I'm sorry..." Isabelle whispered.

"There is one last thing...and I will not bother you again."

John turned around and walked out leaving her alone as she barely held back calling him.

Franklin walked out of the shadows.

Isabelle's arms went around her body protectively as a sob escaped her lips.

"Now, leave me alone," she cried.

"You did the right thing," Franklin said staring at the trembling young woman.

"For you father? For me? For John?" She asked now facing him. "I forgave you everything ...but not this. Because, you not only hurt me but you hurt him."

"I don't care if you forgive me or not." Franklin turned and came face to face with Margot and John.

He stared at the ghost that had haunted him most of his adult life.

"Margot..." he said out loud.

She walked past him towards Isabelle.

"You are beautiful," Margot said lovingly.

Franklin stared in silence. John stood waiting both relieved because of what he had heard a few moments before but also concerned on how Isabelle would accept this new development.

Isabelle stared in confusion than in surprise. The woman that stood in front of her looked so much like her.

"Margot..." Franklin said again. "How?'

Margot turned and faced him with all the anger she had held for a lifetime. "Never, ever come close to my child again. If you do I will kill you," she said emotionally.

He was taken aback.

"Margot, you should thank me..." he began to say.

"Thank you? For ripping away all that I loved? You took my son away from me Franklin. I loved you! And you became my worst nightmare," she said as tears of anger rolled down her face.

Isabelle listened and stared in confusion.

"He is an abomination. Something not normal!" Franklin persisted.

"He is my child Franklin. My child. The one that I created in love and wanted; the one that you stole from me. How could you have been such a monster and I not seen it?" She asked and he simply stared in silence.

Margot turned towards Isabelle again.

"I wanted you. I thought that you had died so many years ago. If I had thought for one moment that you were alive I would never have stopped trying to reach you. You must believe that. I love you. I have loved you and wanted to hold you since you were first put in my arms," Margot said as tears rolled down her face.

Isabelle looked towards John who smiled and nodded. And at that moment she knew that this was his doing.

"John found me and told me. Please.... please let me be a part of your life Isabelle. I won't ask for too much. I just want to love you. Please let me love you, my sweet sweet child." Margot cried openly as she poured her heart to her daughter.

"No!" Franklin jumped in. He went to grab Isabelle and found Margot in his way.

"If you come near her again I will kill you. Nothing in this world will stop me from ending your miserable life," Margot said to him coldly.

Franklin took a step back.

"I loved you Margot. You had no right to humiliate me. Did you think I would let you just go?"

"Franklin, you took my son!"

"He was all I had of you!" Franklin yelled. Silence filled the emptiness.

"You never knew what love was and I was a fool to think I could show you," Margot said sadly.

"You won. The joke was on me. Looking at him become more like you each and every day." Franklin looked at Isabelle now. "The joke was on me."

"You had a gift Franklin. And you wasted it."

"A gift! That is a gift! That abomination!"

Isabelle visibly flinched.

John walked over quickly and took Isabelle into his arms.

"You had a woman who loved you and a beautiful child that always loved you no matter how horrible you were," Margot said finally also putting her own demons to rest. "You had it all Franklin and you just threw it away."

"Margot..." he said again.

"I don't regret you...if I did I wouldn't have my child. My baby was worth it all. And now go away Franklin. I have years to catch up on and you are not going to stop us being together anymore."

Margot turned towards Isabelle again.

"I'm your mother and I love you. I have always loved you. I love you now...Isabelle please.... please." She opened her arms and they were suddenly filled.

Isabelle cried into the arms that she had always dreamt of. Margot held her lovingly and as she caressed her hair kissed the head of her child finally in her arms.

"I love you Isabelle, I love you," Margot kept repeating over and over.

John suddenly emerged from the union of the two women like a looming darkness and Franklin walked back into the crowd and disappeared.

John looked back at the two women still holding each other and smiled.

So many wounds...finally we will all begin to heal and Isabelle will finally be happy at last.

~~~~~~~~~~

How had it all happened? When had it all escaped him? He had not been able to let it go. When he walked out of that balcony that night he had still not had enough.

Franklin knew that soon after John and Isabelle had left for Spain. He hired people to follow them and take photos on and off. He knew where they were all the time.

For a moment he actually considered paying someone to kill...to kill his child?

His wife had left him months ago.

And that afternoon when he received the latest update he could only stare. The video he had put into the machine showed a child's birthday party. So colorful and so much laughter. He recognized John and Isabelle and the small child that they held between them and there was Margot as well. They were all laughing and full of joy.

And at that moment he realized that they could have been his ....his wife....his child....he could have been part of their joy once. When had he lost it all? He remembered all the times and all things he had done to them and closed his eyes.

Franklin then opened a side drawer and pulled out a photo and touched it lightly. "I did love you once...I love you still," was all he said. "I won't hurt you anymore." Never looking away from the photograph he pulled the gun out of the drawer put it to his temple and pulled the trigger.

The sound of the explosion filled the room. Then the room was filled with laughter as the video kept playing. John, Isabelle, Margot and the child they were raising together. They were happy and joyous.

And after a few moments an odd silence and all that was heard was the noise of the television tape buzzing; the tape had reached its end and all that was now seen was the blue screen.

That's how the police found him later that day. All that the man held onto was the photo of a beautiful young woman smiling.

The End.



So, you read the story. Write S. Anne Gardner and let her know what you think.



Love In Grey Shadows (c)copyright January 2001 to S. Anne Gardner

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to events, persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.