Breaking Point by Tom Clancy Page B

new IMAX 3-D. I love you."
    "I love you, too, honey. Bye."
    Michaels stared at the phone. Daddy-B.
    Well, okay, sure, what was she going to call him? An eight-year-old using his first name somehow wasn't right, but "Daddy-B"?
    Michaels sure as hell didn't need to hear that, regardless of what was best for his child. That wasn't right, either.
    So, what was he going to do about all this? He had only a few weeks to decide, and the decision would affect him and his daughter for the rest of their lives.
    Wasn't that just one more straw his camel didn't need. His life had become a damned soap opera.
    London
    "Are you sure?" Carl asked.
    Toni nodded and sighed. "Yes. I have to go."
    They were in Carl's silat school, which occupied the second floor of a four-story building between a tandoori restaurant and a boarded-up charity shop in a less-than-posh section of town called Clapham. The school was bare-bones, old wooden floors and a few mats, run-down, but kept spotlessly clean by students offering hormat and adat-- basically honor and respect--to their instructor. The first evening class would be starting in about an hour, and the students who volunteered to sweep and mop the floors would be there soon.
    Carl nodded in return. "I understand."
    Impulsively, Toni put her hand on his chest. Under the thin white T-shirt, the muscle was tight and warm. "Thank you. I appreciate all you've taught me."
    He caught her hand with his, pressed it against his pectoral a bit harder. "It has been mutual. Listen, if things don't go well with your Mr. Michaels, let me know soonest, would you?"
    "I will."
    "I have occasion to visit the States now and then. I'd be pleased to see you there whether this works out with Alex or not."
    "I'd like that," she said.
    "Are you going to stay for class?"
    "No, I need to get packed. My flight leaves early in the morning."
    He nodded again. "I'll miss you."
    "I'll keep in touch, I promise."
    He bent and kissed her gently on the lips, leaned back, and smiled. "Travel safely," he said.
    Toni nodded and smiled. Carl was a path not taken, at least not fully, and she had a feeling she would always wonder how it would have been to travel that way.
    Back at her flat, Toni looked through the things she had gathered during her weeks in the country. Some of it would fit into her bag. Some of it she could have shipped if she wanted. Most of it would stay here. A coffeemaker, a blender, a small microwave oven--they would be useful for the next tenant. What she would mostly take would be her memories, and now they were jumbled in a way she had to reconsider. Alex hadn't slept with Cooper, whatever his reasons for allowing her to think otherwise. It made a difference to her, and she had to resolve it.
    She could have had her com receive his daily call. Could make the connection herself and ask him about it from thousands of miles away. No risks to that. But no long-distance voice, even complete with a video image, was enough for such a conversation. She needed to be able to see into his eyes, watch him closely, pick up the little movements of his body language, to touch, smell, maybe even taste him. She didn't kid herself that she could always tell if somebody was lying to her, but she thought she could tell if Alex was lying, if he was standing right in front of her and if she was looking for it. So if what Cooper had said was true, if he hadn't cheated on her, then what would that mean? She had left him, quit her job, and if she had done it because she had made a mistake--it was a very big fucking mistake. If she had been that wrong, then what did that say about her?
    She had to know. One way or another. And if she had to swim across an ocean and then walk the rest of the way when she got to dry land, then that was what she was going to do.
    The doorbell chimed.
    A deliveryman dressed in blue shorts and a matching shirt and cap stood there, holding a small package. She signed for it, then went back inside. What could this