The way things stand tonight, I will not see Dorian and Maya for many years. Perhaps they will be adults already. Lauren started another fight in front of the children. At some point they went upstairs, but it was clear they could hear every word. The calmer I got, the more irate she became. Ever more aggressive and abusive, she thrust her body toward me menacingly. She never pushed or hit me, but she came pretty close to it. She would not let me leave her house, either. Pressing my hands together in front of me, I kept pleading with her. “You aren’t a priest!” she repeated several times with disgust on her face. I persisted, though, and she finally let me get out. “Fucking bastard!” she yelled after me. Walking as fast as I could to Paddington, I kept turning to see whether she was behind me. God be praised, she did not follow me. But the children are now hers. The law is on her side, and so is the horrendous distance between California and Istria. Dorian and Maya will ultimately seek me out, I am sure, but that will not happen before we become complete strangers. Horrifying as all this sounds, I still cannot but feel concerned about Lauren. Her loss so many years hence will be so much more painful than mine tonight. Or is it already? Is this the reason she is so angry with me?