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He had to get something straight in his mind. "You don't want commitment from Mike?"
She shook her head.
"And you don't want love from him either?"
She shook it again.
"But you want it from me?"
She nodded.
He still didn't feel any panic. Instead, he was filled with a sense of exhilaration that came all the way from his toes. It was as if a huge burden had been lifted from his heart. Of course.
As clearly as if someone had snapped on the room's small television set, he heard a song—a children's song—along with a new voice echoing in his head.
As the song continued, a picture formed in his mind of all of Them combining into One: Eastwood, the Enforcer God; Oprah, the Counselor God; Marion Cunningham, the Mother God… They melded into a single new form.
The children's song ended, and the voice began to speak. I love you just the way you are, Ethan. You're very special to Me. Through you, I shine the light of My love on all the world. You are My perfect creation. Just the way you are.
And then, in Ethan's mind, this most wonderful God took off His formal suitcoat and slipped out of His stiff shoes. In a cozy sweater and sneakers, He sang His song of perfect love, telling all His children—every single one of them—that it was a beautiful day in His neighborhood.
At that moment, Ethan Bonner stopped fighting his destiny.
Kristy studied his expression, but, as well as she knew him, she couldn't tell what he was thinking. She only knew there would be no going back for her. She'd set aside her pride and spoken from her heart. If he didn't like it, that was his problem.
He took a deep breath. "Okay."
"Okay?"
"Yes." He gave a jerky nod. "Okay."
"Okay what?" She was bewildered.
"Love. Commitment. The whole thing." He grabbed the skirt of her dress and smoothed it back in place. "Kentucky."
"Kentucky? What are you talking about? Oh, Eth, you are drunk. I knew it!"
"I'm not drunk!" He spun her toward the door. "Come on. We're leaving right now."
The knowledge crushed her, and her throat constricted as she turned to face him. "You don't want me anymore."
He pulled her back into his arms. "Oh, baby, I want you so much I can't stand it. And I love you, too, so stop looking at me like that. I haven't been able to think about anything else since you walked into my office in those tight white jeans."
The small flame of hope that had started to burn inside her disappeared and she regarded him angrily. "You love me? Why don't you just say what you mean? You lust after me."
"That, too."
She'd always been able to read him so clearly, but now she felt as if she were in the presence of a stranger.
"I don't love you because of all the cosmetic changes you've made," he said. "I'm not that shallow. It's just that all those changes finally forced me notice you and appreciate what's been right under my nose the whole time." He gazed at her as if he could see into her soul and wanted her to see into his. The flame of hope began to burn anew inside her.
His thumb settled in the hollow at the base of her neck. "You've been in my life for so long that I stopped thinking about you as someone who existed separately from me. You were just part of me. And then all these changes happened, and you decided to leave me, and I've been going crazy ever since."
"You have?" She felt delirious, entranced.
He smiled. "You don't have to look so happy about it." And then his forehead knitted, and a note of pleading sounded in his voice. "We can talk on the road. Come on, baby. Hurry. We really, really don't have any time to waste." He grabbed the doorknob with one hand, her shoulder with the other.
"Where are we going? Why are you in such a hurry?"
