He nodded silently. Diane was right, he knew.
"That's why you're so afraid to let your emotions loose again, isn't it?"
Kinsman felt tears in his eyes. "I can't, Diane. Even when I try, even in bed—I can't let myself go."
"You're a very good lover," she said.
"I'm good at the mechanics, maybe, but the emotion isn't there," he whispered, admitting it to himself more than to her. "I'm just going through the motions, conscious of every move I make."
"You could have fooled me." Diane giggled.
He smiled in the darkness. "Yeah, but I can't fool me."
Diane reached up and kissed him lightly on the lips, "My poor Chet. Even when I first met you, you were the most self-contained guy I had ever seen. All these years I couldn't figure you out."
"So now you know."
"I'm beginning to understand you." Diane sounded pleased. "I'm beginning to think maybe I can get through the wall you've built around yourself. If you let me."
"And what happens then?" he heard himself ask.
"Maybe I can help you to be happy, Chet. Maybe you can help me to be, too."
"That would be good," he said. Then he realized, "Oh Christ!"
"What?" Diane sounded startled. "What is it?"
"Pete. I'll have to admit the whole thing to him, too."
"Pete?"
"Leonov."
"Leonov." Diane's voice went low and calm and mea- sured, "Yes, you've got to tell Leonov about it."
He felt hollow inside. No longer angry. Not even fearful. Empty. Nothing was there but a dull, distant ache.
"I don't know if I can," he said.
