Impossible

He closed his eyes for a minute, and then opened them and exhaled the words. He felt like an ax murderer saying them to her. But he had no other choice. “I'm going back to Beth.” Sasha stared at him for a long minute as though she didn't understand.

“I'm going back to Beth.” He repeated the words, and she looked as though she'd been shot, as she suddenly sat up in bed.

“As in, to Vermont tomorrow, right?” She couldn't breathe and was clutching at straws. He shook his head.

“As in, to our marriage. She can't do this alone. It's going to be months or years getting Charlotte back on her feet, literally, and she may never totally get there. We just don't know yet.” He was sitting up now too. “I've never been there for Beth before. I have to do this now. She wants me back, God knows why. I think she's crazy. I was a lousy husband to her for twenty years. I was too busy playing wacky artist and painting to be of any real help to her. But now I have to do this. I can't leave her alone with this, Sash. I just can't. She broke her engagement as soon as this happened. She said she could never forgive him. She asked me to come back.” He sat there looking at Sasha with tears streaming down his cheeks. He loved her. But he also loved his wife. And she needed him, more than she ever had. The very decency that made him who he was, and made Sasha love him, was what was making him leave her now.

“That's not a reason to go back into a marriage. Stay up there for six months if you have to. A year, if that's what it takes. But you don't go back into a marriage just to nurse a sick child. What happens when she gets better? You've got your marriage and Beth for the rest of your life.”

“I didn't leave her, Sasha,” he reminded her. “She left me, and I deserved it. I would never have left her or the kids.”

“Oh my God. I can't believe this.” They had just gotten back together, and he was in bed with her. But he hadn't laid a hand on her all night. He had just come to be with her one last time, and tell her in person that he was leaving her, this time for good. “I don't think your mind is clear enough to make this decision right now. Either of you.” She was fighting for her life. But looking at his face, she knew she had already lost. There was no winning this time. It was over. It really was impossible, but for entirely different reasons. And she had no weapons to fight for him. Beth had twenty years of marriage on her side, and three children, one of them critically sick. Sasha didn't have a chance. “Can't you wait to make this decision, till you're all a little saner and have had some sleep?”

“There's no decision to make here, Sasha. I can't leave Beth alone to deal with this, and I can't leave my kids.” He had grown up and become responsible, and now he no longer wanted her. And she couldn't even argue with him. Because she knew what he was doing was right, for all of them. Except her. She felt as though he had hit her with a wrecking ball, and he had. Liam put his arms around her then, and she cried great wracking sobs, and so did he. “I'm so sorry, Sasha. I love you. I wanted to do this with you. I wanted to make it work… but I have to go back. I swear I would have married you if this hadn't happened. I wanted to. But now I can't.” It was a tragedy for both of them. But he loved Beth too, and Sasha knew it. She could see it in his eyes. It was totally absurd, but real, he loved them both. And he owed more to Beth. Sasha had to lose. She was the human sacrifice he felt he had to make for his child.

They lay there crying in each other's arms for hours, mourning each other, and wishing things were different. She wanted to be angry, furious even, she wanted to hate him, but she couldn't. She wasn't angry, she was heartbroken. This was as bad as, or worse, than losing Arthur. Because once Liam went back to her, he really would be dead to her now. This time he truly would never come back, and they both knew it.

“I'll withdraw from the gallery, if you want me to. I don't want to make this any harder on you than it already is.”

“You don't have to do that. That's not fair to you. You can deal with Karen and Bernard.” She knew she couldn't see him, or even talk to him after this. If she did, it would kill her. She had never experienced such pain in her life, or at least not since Arthur died.

They were still lying in each other's arms at six. And at six-thirty he got up. They both looked like they'd been beaten. The worst part was that she knew he was doing the right thing. There was no wacky artist factor in this decision. It was the decision of a kind and noble man, who knew what he owed his family and wife, and was willing to live up to his obligations. For better or worse. All it did was make her love him more.

“What if it doesn't work?” Sasha asked while he got dressed. “What if, when Charlotte is better, you two can't stand each other? Then what happens?”

“I don't know,” he said honestly, looking at her. They both looked ravaged.