Chapter Three

July 2002

John Truman Carter stepped off the plane and into the air conditioned terminal. Stoically, he picked up his bags and found the limo driver. The ride to Gamma’s house was relatively short. It was a Saturday and traffic was always light on the weekends. He hadn’t wanted to take the lime, but his mother had insisted. He was partly grateful since it meant that he didn’t really have to worry about anything for a few minutes. Soon, though, he’d be back. He looked out the window and all he could see was her face. He squeezed his eyes shut tight, trying to block her image, but it only became clearer.

He’d left because of Gamma, yes. But, he also had to face the reality of his actions. He’d done it to hurt her. He’d done it because to her, what they had was all it would ever be. Sex. Well, it was enough for a while. What man wouldn’t want to make love to the woman he’s in love with? But the more they did it, the more distant she’d become. He hadn’t wanted to leave, but Gamma’s doctor’s had been firm. A warmer climate, year-round. She couldn’t go alone. His parents weren’t interested in going with her. That left him, like it always did, the responsible one. Hurting Abby was the icing on the cake.

The driver pulled up outside the house and he noted absently that it looked just the same as it ever did. He got out and headed for the door.