Chances & Choices Read Free

her, but at least it’s not a shock – we knew this could happen.”
    A silent sorrow seemed to hang in the air and then Claire heard Andrea’s hushed tones. “She never told him, you know. He had no idea up until now.  No w onder he ' s so stunned."
    ”I suppose she should have told him but I can understand why she didn’t.  She ’s been in remission for years. You probably don’t agree, but I…I think she was quite right. This way they ' ve had four years of happiness together, with no shadows hanging over them. What I don ' t understand is why she insisted they come today. He looks so los t ."
    Claire heard Andrea murmur with an indulgent affection.  “Well, you know Susanna, determined to live life to the fullest. She's still very much alive, and it ' s not as if they just found out today.  She told me she doesn’t want him grieving before it s necessary."
    “Doesn’t seem to be working, does it?”
    “No, but it might - in time.  And it will help her to stay in the mainstream as long as possible – she has always loved the limelight.”
    “I guess...” The conversation faded away in the distance and embarrassed by overhearing an intimate conversation, Claire made sure she remained in the cubicle until they were gone.
    Throughout the rest of the party, she studiously avoided Susanna and Julian.  It was a large gathering, of the type where few people were close, and she was glad her father was not on intimate enough terms with the couple to warrant introducing her.  In her youthfulness, she had no desire to meet head on, so to speak, the issue of intense love in the shadow of death.  She was relieved when her father decided it was time to leave, and if he considered her unusually quiet on the drive home, he failed to mention it.
    The summer passed without further contact with the Wests and by the fall she was too involved with her first college year to give thought to the couple.   By the time Susanna Ainsley West's death was reported in the media, Claire had little time to spare from her own grief.  Ironically, the issue of death, which she attempted to avoid the summer before, touched her intimately at an earlier age than it did Julian West.  After a stroke, Claire's father was laid to rest in the same cemetery where Julian buried his wife barely a month before.
      Claire stood there and for the first time since that gathering nine years ago, was struck by the classical perfection of his profile.  From this distance and in the semi-darkness the laughter and worry lines she knew were around his eyes and mouth were not visible and his skin appeared as smooth as the marble sculpture he resembled.  His physique was as strong as ever, and he was still lean-hipped, although his chest and shoulders had broadened as he moved into his mid-thirties.
    Funny how she could stand here and admire his masculine beauty and yet feel no sexual attraction.  Especially when her reaction to Richard, who was less handsome, was so violent.  Yet here she was, viewing the most handsome man she knew and the only physical response she could summon was a fond smile as she noticed his dark hair was still refusing to be tamed by the hairstyle she knew he adopted for that very purpose.
    She could not see his eyes, but she knew them to be a deep, expressive green.  When she first knew him, she felt they mirrored his every emotion. Since then, his name as a fashion designer had become well-known.  Claire was familiar with the back-biting and jealousy in the fashion world, and she wondered if, in his success, he had learned to guard his emotions.  She remembered, in the last few months, before she went to New York and during his trips there, sometimes catching a hooded expression.  Sadly, it occurred to her, the only thing his eyes might now truly reveal were their luxuriant colour.
    Just then, Julian turned his head.  Catching sight of her, he pushed away from the window and walked to the middle of the room, flicking