“Yes, I thought I should let him know.”

“And this is how you let me know?” he shot back. “It’s been nice, pal, see you around?”

“I’m not sure I’m following.”

“Nothing. Nothing to follow.” He walked away. He wanted his own life back, too, didn’t he? Here was his chance. End of complications. All he had to do was wish her well and wave good-bye. “That’s what I want. It’s always been what I wanted.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not looking for anything else. Neither one of us was.” He whirled back to her, temper glinting in his eyes. “Right?”

“I’m not sure what you mean.”

“You’ve got your life, I’ve got mine. We just followed the current, and here we are. Time to get out of the water.”

No, she decided, she wasn’t following him. “All right.”

“Well, then.” Assuring himself that he was fine with it, he was calm. He was even pleased. He started back toward her.

The last of the sun shimmered over her hair, into those impossibly clear eyes, shadowed the hollow of her throat above the collar of her blouse. “No.” He heard himself say it, and his mouth went dry.

“No?”

“A minute, just one minute.” He walked away again, this time to the edge of the water. He stood there, staring down like a man contemplating diving in well over his head. “What’s wrong with Baltimore?”

“Baltimore? Nothing.”

“It’s got museums, good restaurants, character, theater.”

“It’s a very nice city,” Sybill said cautiously.

“Why can’t you work there? If you have to go into New York for a meeting, you can hop the shuttle or the train. Hell, you can drive it in under four hours.”

“I’m sure that’s true. If you’re suggesting I relocate to Baltimore—”

“It’s perfect. You’d still be living in the city, but you’d be able to see Seth whenever you wanted.”

And you, she thought, yearning toward the picture. But she shook her head. It would kill her to go on this way. And she knew it would spoil the happiness she’d had, the new self she’d discovered. “It’s just not practical, Phillip.”

“Of course it’s practical.” He turned around, strode back to her. “It’s perfectly practical. What’s impractical is going back to New York, putting up that distance again. It’s not going to work, Sybill. It’s just not going to work.”

“There’s no point in discussing it now.”

“Do you think this is easy for me?” he exploded. “I have to stay here. I have commitments, responsibilities, to say nothing of roots. I’ve got no choice. Why can’t you bend?”

“I don’t understand.”

“I have to spell it out? Damn it.” He took her by the shoulders, gave her a quick, impatient shake. “Don’t you get it? I love you. You can’t expect me to let you walk away. You have to stay. The hell with your life and my life. Your family, my family. I want our life. I want our family.”

She stared at him, the blood ringing in her ears. “What? What?”