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had a lot of time to think. She’d always trusted her own extrasensory perception, and, for over a month, she had felt strongly that she finally was about to meet her soul mate. Was it John? No, he’s married. But he’s unhappy. No, he has a wife. But she doesn’t complement, fulfill, or complete him.
    But I, of course, could, she told herself.
    Every woman in love with a married man believes that her relationship is “special,” that no one else feels as she does, and that her being with him isn’t really illicit because the two of them are in love and there are extenuating circumstances. And, with rare exceptions, they all get hurt when they learn that their romance isn’t special at all. There is a predictable progression, but it doesn’t seem predictable to someone caught up in it. Kate had seen it happen to fellow stewardesses and other friends, and she was cautious. An affair with a married man wasn’t something she had ever planned to have. But she was on a slippery slope.
    When she left his office that day in December, she didn’t know what to expect. Maybe she would never see him again, and probably that would be best. Her mind was reeling with all the reasons not to get involved, while her heart sang with joy that this wonderful man loved her.
    It was inevitable that John would call Kate, and that she would agree to see him. She found him more sincere than any other man she had ever known, and soon it didn’t matter that he wasn’t her type—because he had become her type, or perhaps her type had become John Branden. They talked for hours when they could find time to be together, and John could almost read her mind. They were that close.
    They planned their first date for Christmas Eve afternoon at a health-food restaurant. He seemed shy, and they were both nervous. He told her he had never done this before but he was serious about her and would tell his wife about his feelings after the holidays. He had already told his older daughter, Tamara.
    They never went into the restaurant; instead, they spent their time talking in the car. They went to Kate’s condo in Solana Beach but drank only cranberry juice.
    They did not make love.
    They walked on the beach, and John drove Kate back to her car by 5:00 p.m. “I literally floated over to my friends’ house to spend Christmas Eve,” she wrote in her journal.
     
    Kate continued to fly for American Airlines, usually working as the flight attendant who served as the purser, in charge of the other attendants. She had enough seniority that she could bid on—and get—optimal flights, and she flew San Diego to New York City with twenty-four-hour layovers.
    John kept his practice. Their lives, in the beginning at least, were not inextricably entwined. It was a delicate balance, but Kate thought she could keep her equilibrium.
    But one day John confided once more that his marriage was virtually over and that he planned to get a divorce. He assured Kate that he’d never been with any woman except his wife and herself, that his feelings for her were an entirely new experience for him. He could not bear to go on in a loveless marriage—not when he felt the way he did about Kate.
    When Kate asked him why he’d never strayed before,since he and Sue seemed so unhappy together, he explained that he needed complete loyalty and commitment from the woman in his life. He had had that with Sue—at first—and he would, of course, need it from Kate. He was a one-woman man, faithful as long as that woman was completely devoted to him. That seemed endearing to her, and Kate promised him she could give him that. It seemed little enough to ask. He assured her that he had remained loyal to his wife for two decades. Now, their goals had diverged, and they had grown irretrievably in different directions.
    Sue Branden had treated Kate like any other patient, barely acknowledging her presence when she’d occasionally come to the office for follow-up appointments. Beyond her