Dating Game Read Online Free PDF Page B

said that for the first six months after he died, she kept expecting him to walk through the door and laugh at her, and tell her it was all a joke and he was just kidding. Paris fully expected Peter to recant everything he had said the night before. Rachel and her sons would then vanish politely into the mists, and she and Peter would go on with their life as before. It was temporary insanity, that was all, but when Peter walked into the kitchen fully dressed and looking grim, she knew it wasn't a joke after all. Wim noticed how serious he looked too.
    “Are you going to the office, Dad?” he asked, as Paris handed Peter the glass of orange juice, and he took it from her with a stern expression. He was hardening himself for the ugly scene he expected when Wim left, and he wasn't far wrong. She was planning to beg him to give up Rachel and come home. There was no sense of humiliation with their shared life on the line. And it was a strain for both of them to have Wim in their midst, sharing their final moments. Wim sensed that something was wrong, and wondered if they'd had an argument, although that was rare for them, and a minute later, taking his toast with him, he went back to his room.
    Peter had finished the orange juice by then, and half the cup of coffee she'd poured for him, and he stood up, and started to go upstairs to pick up his things. He was only taking an overnight bag with him. He was going to come out during the week and pack up the rest. But he knew he needed to get out now as quickly as he could, before she broke down again, or he said things he didn't want to say to her. All he wanted to do now was leave.
    “Can we talk for a few minutes?” she asked, following him into their bedroom, as he picked up his bag and looked at her unhappily.
    “There's nothing left to say. We said it all last night. I have to go.”
    “You don't have to do anything. You owe it to me to listen at least. Why don't you at least think about this? You may be making a terrible mistake. I think you are, and Wim and Meg will too. Let's agree to go to counseling, and at least try to make this work. You can't just throw away twenty-four years for some girl.” But he had, and wanted to. He was hanging on to his affair with Rachel like the life preserver that would save him from drowning in the world that he and Paris had once shared. And right now he wanted to get as far away from her as he could. She was the one thing standing between him and the future he wanted desperately, with another woman.
    “I don't want to go to counseling with you,” he said bluntly. “I want a divorce. Even if I stop seeing Rachel, I realize now that I want out. I want more than this. Much, much more. And you should too. We've drifted apart. Our life is dead, like an old tree that needs to be chopped down before it falls over and kills someone. And the person it's liable to kill right now is me. Paris, I can't do this anymore.” He wasn't crying when he said it, he didn't even look remorseful this time. He looked determined. His survival was at stake, and he wasn't going to let Paris keep him from what he wanted, no matter what she said. He knew she loved him, and he loved her too. But he was in love with Rachel and wanted a life with her. He was going to drive to New York now and spend the rest of his life with her. And nothing Paris could do or say would stop him. And she could see precisely that on his face. It was over for him. As far as Peter was concerned, their marriage was dead. And all Paris had to do now was accept it, as far as he was concerned, and move on. Easier said than done.
    “When did all this happen? When you met that girl? She must be fabulous in bed to turn you around like this.” She hated herself for saying it, but she couldn't help herself. And without saying a word, he picked up his bag, walked out of the room and down the stairs, while Paris watched him. He turned to look at her when he got to the bottom of the stairs, and