Leaving... Ch. 04

Taking in a deep breath she let it out forcefully then looked again at the man slowly moving away from her. "Oh Donald, I have it all ...power, money, recognition in a man's world, but I know now, without you I have nothing, nothing at all."

Megan was surprised as Elizabeth suddenly stood and walked hurriedly to the ticket counter "Are there first class seats on the Chicago flight you've just called. I now want to go to Chicago. I must catch that flight. Hurry, please it's very important."

Megan heard the boarding announcement for her own flight, gathered her things and made her way towards her check-in area. As she approached the boarding gate the song echoed in her head one last time, "I'm leaving on a jet plane, don't know when I'll be back again, Oh Babe, I hate, to goooo!"

She walked down the tunnel towards her plane with a deep foreboding, the voice of the woman singing the song etching the words into her memory. Repeating itself like a suddenly out of control tape player.

**********

Andrew stretched and opened his eyes, after a big yawn he rolled over to find Megan was already up. As he turned over he caught her lingering scent on the pillow. He inhaled deeply taking in the familiar fragrance. It was elusive because she always used it sparingly but it was as if she were still there with him. He smiled then whispered, "I can't wait until I can wake up every day smelling, seeing and touching you my love."

He got up and looked at the clock. 9:30, he never slept that late, so he decided to jump into the shower then go looking for Megan. He needed to talk to her first thing this morning. Andrew looked around the bathroom as he entered the shower and he felt like something was amiss. He couldn't immediately place it and quickly dismissed the feeling as the hot water fell invigoratingly on his shoulders.

When he was finished he quickly dried off and threw on a tee shirt, shorts and slippers, then bounded down the stairs. He yelled out, "Meg, where are you babyyy?" Before his voice quit echoing in the empty house he noticed her bags were missing. A sense of dread filled his being, his arms and legs energized only moments before, now suddenly felt heavy and fatigued. Then it hit him; the sense of something being wrong when he was in the bathroom. All of her stuff that she always scattered across his bathroom counters when she was with him—it was missing. Andrew felt the bile rise in his throat even as the tears rolled down his cheek.

"Why, what had he done wrong, what in the hell was she thinking?" His voice sounded hollow. He moved quickly through the downstairs checking everywhere, but all the doors were locked. Taking a deep breath he looked outside; as he feared her rental car was gone too.

The pain was so intense his head hurt and now his stomach was in knots. His mind was going a thousand miles a minute as an intense anger began to percolate through the fog of his mind.

Running upstairs he grabbed for his wallet then headed downstairs to get his keys. As he jumped and cleared the last few steps he began talking to himself. "This is bullshit, she isn't going to pull this act on me I'm going to catch her in Albany and..." Suddenly he felt weak kneed, his throat constricted and mouth so dry he couldn't utter a peep.

He saw the letter and her house keys on the table beside his. Reaching out, his hand wavering, he took the letter and wet his lips as he said, "Oh God no! Please no!" Stumbling to the sofa he gently opened the envelope. His name was inscribed on the envelope in her beautiful handwriting. He was careful as he removed and opened the letter; it was as if Megan was somehow contained in the paper he held in his hand.

He opened and read her message with tear filled eyes.



My dearest of all men



Andrew, my darling. I love you. I love you so much it physically hurts inside me, but I have to tell you quickly or I can't tell you at all. Andrew my love, this is goodbye.



You have every right to know why. You have more than every right to be angry with me, as I expect you will be. I deserve anything, everything, you heap on me but please, please believe me that you have done nothing wrong my love. It's me, not you, never ever you.



My reason is the one we have talked about now for years. My career.



I'm not going to say 'you know how important it is to me.' I'm not going to hide behind that. If given the simple choice of you dearest Andrew or my career, there can never be a contest. You are the one man that can fill my heart every moment of every day. I see your eyes and feel your guiding hand everywhere I go. In a crowded room I sense that you are watching over me. When we are at last fleetingly together your love folds round me, holds me close, and I feel secure in your arms. I love you to the very depths of my soul, but that isn't everything I want.



Do you know what frightens me? It frightens me to think that if I don't have a career, there's the remote possibility that I might come to resent the love I have for you. That I would resent you being the wonderful man you are. That I would resent you claiming my heart over my head. That I would blame myself for giving in. That I let you love and support me and not strike out to be a true partner. A partner to challenge and stimulate your shining intellect. That I would relax into a genteel University housewifely apathy. I see it around me at home. The coffee mornings. The bridge club. The socialising and the catty conversations. I don't want to be that for you.



Yet, my Andrew, it would be cruel to ask you to wait, to see if I can make it. It might take years. I know this letter will hurt you. I think I can only guess the depth of the hurt. But if I pretend, if I go on and on asking you to wait, then I fear that slowly your heart would harden and you would resent me. I am a coward and I couldn't bear that. Even though this letter will hurt, waiting just in case would be viciously cruel. I could never be cruel to you. I love you more than I will ever love any man.



I am so sorry. My words seem trivial as I try to explain this to you. For all my education and learning I lack the words to tell you how desperately sorry I am.



I'm going for interviews, but my heart is yours. I don't think I can ever love again.



Thank you my darling for being everything you have been to me. I so much wish I had been truly worthy of your love.



In shame and in agony, and dare I say with my very deepest love.



Megan.



"No, oh God please NO!" The words struck him like a physical blow. There was no one else around to see his grief and pain and he let tears roll down his cheeks.

"She can't do this to us, not now." He ran his fingers through his hair in despair. He was suddenly sick to his stomach; running to the bathroom he emptied its contents into the toilet. Waves of nausea overwhelmed him as Megan's words began to almost throb in his head. 'Andrew my love, this is goodbye.' Each time he heard those words in his head he felt like he was going to be sick again. It took fifteen minutes or so before Andrew finally made his way out of the bathroom and to the kitchen where he garnered a glass of water and refreshed his cotton mouth.

Amazing how supper tasted so good the first time and so rotten the second; something that was very good now wasted. It was a perfect analogy for how Andrew felt at the moment, used and discarded. He felt so alone, so completely and utterly alone.

His future had looked so bright and comforting to him less than a half hour ago; now it was shattered and crushed. Every bit of joy and happiness from the last sixteen hours was reduced to an unspeakable sorrow and a deep sense of the terror of the loveless nights and days he would endure without his soul mate.

He returned to the couch then retrieved the letter from off the floor. Sitting there rereading it his tears continued to fall. No matter how many times he read and stared at the words before him, they didn't change, but then again he didn't really expect them to. Every hope he might have had slipped from his grasp and every possible pleasant thing he desired, planned for disappeared right in front of him.

Andrew had never felt this level of emotional pain. His head pounded in rhythm with his aching heart. Before he realized it his whole body trembled while he struggled to come to grips with his loss.

Looking up at the clock he shook his head and tried to focus his eyes through the tears then looked again. It was 12:30; he had been sitting in a fog for over an hour and a half.

The pain was becoming manageable as he allowed his anger to rise. He was getting downright incensed. This was 'Bullshit,' as his grand-pappy used to articulate so well. He loved Megan and she loved him, of that he was sure. This foolishness would not end here, one way or the other they would talk this out, preferably face to face. Then if it was over it would be over, but until then he wasn't giving up yet.

Andrew put his hands to his sides on the cushions then pushed himself up. He walked over to the phone, picked it up and perfunctorily dialed his closest friend, P J Ackermann. He listened to the ringing tone of P J's cell phone. The person on the other end obviously recognized the number, answered with his normal friendly "Hey Andrew, what's up?"

Andrew's voice was shaky at best and, trying to calm himself, answered back, "P J something's come up. Can I see you as soon as possible."

"Sure are you free now?" P J answered.

All Andrew said was, "I'm on my way. See you in five minutes."

The phones were hung up and Andrew was on his way out the door.

**********

The flight back to London was even more disquieting than Megan expected; four times she had tried to call Andrew from Kennedy and each time there was no answer. Leaving him that letter had been an unforgivably cruel thing to do. She had to talk to him, tell him her heart and ask for forgiveness, not only for what she had done did, but for the brutal way she had done it.

At last they touched down. After waiting for her case she walked through "Nothing to Declare" at Customs. Slowly she pushed her baggage trolley out of the restricted area and into the visitors' waiting hall. She was vaguely aware of the small sea of beaming happy faces of relatives and friends of the arriving passengers, of chauffeurs holding their cards for foreign nationals "Mr. Kanaguchi" said one, "MGB Metals" said another. There was no-one to greet her. From now on she would be forever alone.

A voice was shouting, continually shouting the same word. The word suddenly banished the curtains of misery and impinged on her brain. "Megan. Megan. MEGAN! OVER HERE!"

It was impossible. She knew it was impossible, unless his ghost in its wretchedness had come to haunt her.

Once again "MEGAN! I'M HERE!"

She looked around and for a moment her heart seemed to stop. "No. No. You can't be here. No."

Hands, HIS hands gripped her shoulders.

"Andrew?" she said as the reality of his presence hit her.

Andrew, tears welling up in his eyes and threatening to spill over and run down his cheeks stood in front of her. He raised a crumpled piece of paper in his hand towards her face. "Ya'll wanna 'splain this here note to me? You're fixin' to get some learnin' 'bout the how's and why's of two-way communication.

Specifically the conveyance of two party communication... between ourselves. For someone who's highly trained to communicate practical and abstract ideas to a diverse group of people, your skills in dealing with your own emotions quite frankly suck, my dear."

"Please, Andrew I'm so sorry. Please forgive me. I was on my way to call you, to tell you I was wrong to just leave you like that."

Andrew's voice was breaking as he pulled her into his arms, the woman he loved so deeply and was so close to losing. He choked out, "I'll do what ever I have to do to help you... us... but please don't leave me!" Andrew knew his display wasn't the manly thing to do but he didn't care, this was his one true love. He knew where she was concerned he would do many things he would do for no one else.

"Megan let me just splain the facts. I can't live without you girl and if you had stayed I would have been able to explain my intentions. I'm waiting until you get a job then I'm going to give my notice to Crestin and get a job at a university or a college near you."

"Andrew you already have tenure at Crestin I can't let you do that it would be so wrong of me to expect you to give up your career just for me. I won't let you do that. I WON'T.''

"First off you can't tell me what I will or won't do after pourin' me down the drain. Second off I'm doing this because I love you more than anything else in my life. What good is my career without you making my life full, rich and completely tied up in your love.

Anyway, Meg, that's Plan A. I was goin' to tell you today but you did that stupid disappearing act on me.

Although I've envisioned two or three other options I can tell you about, I think my Plan 'B' is the best one if you don't want me to leave Crestin. Ya see gal I've been doin' some thangs without you knowin'."

"I kinda' wrote some letters, confidential like, to your Dean at Queen Anne's and I talked to the Chancellor at Crestin, P J Ackermann, who is a good friend of mine."

Andrew swallowed hard before continuing, "I specifically inquired about the two Institutes of higher learning's willingness to accept you as a PhD candidate. The board of Regents at Crestin would agree to let you be a Graduate Student per my recommendation and that of six of my peers at both Queen Anne's and Crestin. You would be assigned an advisor in your area of specific study from both Universities. Queen Anne's would give you their usual support and guidance.

Your thesis would go to both Queen Anne's and Crestin. When you get your Doctorate, and that, my dear Megan isn't in doubt, then I guess you could apply to Crestin or even Queen Anne's for a professorship or if you must a tutorial post. If you wanna that is. It's a career, not the one you planned, Meg, but it's a career and one worthy of your huge talents.

Just think, instead of reporting The Miseries of the World, you could bring intellectual stimulation, thought and sheer expansion of mental horizons to your students. I reckon the world's got plenty of reporters telling the downside and conflicts of the planet. The next generation and the next of bright young people, well I guess I think you are better to be lifting their vision and their intellects out of the miseries of today."

"Oh Andrew! You did that? I didn't know." Her face still streaked by tears she smiled at how this man seemed to understand her, even when she didn't understand herself.

A thought struck her, "Wait a moment ... I still don't understand, how did you get here before me?" she asked as she tried to work out the logistics in her head.

Holding her close he said, "Concorde. She was standin' there and there was a spare seat or two so I grabbed one. Musta been watiin' for me to show I guess."

"Andrew it is so expensive..."

"For you my love I'll do anything. Besides it just means that the three week honeymoon to Cancun via the cruise ship is now a week at my place and two trips to McDonald's for a romantic meal."

"Idiot!" She smiled into his chest before his words struck home.

She struggled to free herself from his tight embrace as a heavy hand landed on Andrew's shoulder and a deep official voice said "Is this man troubling you Miss? Can I be of help?"

Startled, Andrew released her and they both saw the huge intimidating figure of a blue clad, helmet topped English Policeman.

"No, Constable, he isn't bothering me one little bit. But you can be the first to congratulate me. I think this big, ugly, lovely, brute of a man has just asked me to marry him."

The 'Bobby' grinned. "That case Miss, I hope you'll be very happy. My apologies, Sir, and congratulations", and he saluted them and walked away.

Barely able to speak because of the changed emotions raging inside her Megan asked, "When do you have to go back to the States?"

"Five days, I felt we needed time to talk" he said, laughing back his tears as he held her tight to him once more, running his hand through her hair.

"Yes, we need to talk and communicate on a whole lot of levels. Andrew, dearest, dearest Andrew, I am desperately sorry for all the pain I caused you... caused us. Can you forgive me? I promise I'll make it up to you starting as soon as I've thought over your proposal! And I won't give you any more notes, OK?"

"Think it over? THINK IT OVER? Hey girl you betta get to the back of the line if you don't say 'Yes' right now."

"Mmmmm are you going to threaten me all of our married life?" she giggled as she put her arms around his neck and whispered, "OK. Me bein' so clever an' all, I jus' thunk it over real fast. Guess you just scared me into it. Oh Andrew, Yes Please."

"See you're learning to communicate so much better already." He kissed her and so many things became clear with that kiss.

That tune was playing, the one that had been haunting her"....when I go back, I'll wear your wedding ring.... Dream about the days to come when I won't have to leave alone... About the times I won't have to say ... Leaving on a jet plane."

As they walked to Megan's parked car, Andrew pushing her luggage cart, Megan holding his arm, she suddenly had a terrifying thought.

'Frankie. Oh god Frankie.' She HAD to tell him. Even though nothing really happened. After all it was only a touch. If he was repulsed, if the fact that another had touched her, had made her tingle was disgusting to him, even if it split them apart she could not live a lie with him. She could not let him marry her without realising she had allowed Frankie to stimulate her so intimately and that she had responded albeit for only a few seconds. There had been so many misunderstandings and hidden agendas between them, she had to tell him.

The shock of remembering made her heart contract. She turned deathly pale and stumbled. Andrew steadied her and with alarm saw the whiteness of her face.

"Honey, honey? Are you ok? Meg what's happened. Are you ill? For god's sake tell me."

"Get me to the car Andrew, please, please – see - it's over there."

He supported her as she unsteadily guided him to her car and he hurriedly threw her case into the boot. He started to hold her close but she pushed him away, leaning her back against the cool metal. He again tried to hold and comfort her.

"Andrew don't touch me. Please don't touch me. There's? something I must tell you. About me. Something I let happen. Oh god Andrew you'll hate me."

Once more he tried to hold her but still she pushed him away.

"Meg what the hell is happening? What have you done that's so godawful bad? You could never be that bad. You know I love you whatever you think you've done."

She knew she must NOT cry. She must face him. She must NOT use her tears or emotions to influence him. She must be calm. Taking a deep breath and clenching her fists at her sides she looked into his face and said "Andrew I've nearly been unfaithful to you."

Megan couldn't bear the anguished look that disfigured his face, the eyes she adored crinkling in pain. She looked miserably down at her feet.

She knew this had killed his love for her as his suddenly cold, icy voice said "You'd better tell me Miss Megan MacLean."

She shivered at his formal use of her name.