Free Echoes by Danielle Steel

made her decision.
    After hours of fighting with him and begging him to be reasonable and at least be willing to meet Antoine, she finally went to her room, defeated. She packed two small suitcases with all the things she thought she could use on the farm in Switzerland, and put framed photographs of all of them in her suitcase. She was sobbing when she closed her valises, and set them down in the hall, and her mother stood sobbing as she watched her.
    “Beata, don't do this…he will never let you come home again.” She had never seen her husband so enraged, nor would she again. She didn't want to lose her daughter, and there seemed to be nothing she could do to stop this tragedy from happening. “You'll always regret it.”
    “I know I will,” Beata said tragically, “but I will never love any man but him. I don't want to lose him.” She didn't want to lose them, either. “Will you write to me, Mama?” she asked, feeling like a child as her mother held her close to her, their tears mingling in a single torrent as their cheeks met. For an eternity, there was no answer from her mother, as Beata realized what this meant. When her father banished her and said she was dead to all of them, her mother felt she had no choice but to obey him. She would not cross the boundaries he was setting for all of them, not even for her. His word was law to her, and to all of them. And he had every intention of declaring her dead. “I'll write to you,” Beata said softly, clinging to her mother like the child she still was in many ways. She had just turned twenty-one that spring.
    “He won't let me see your letters,” she said, holding Beata for as long as she could. Watching her leave was like a living death. “Oh my darling … be happy with this man…I hope he'll be good to you,” she said, sobbing uncontrollably. “I hope he's worth it …oh my baby, I'll never see you again.” Beata squeezed her eyes shut, holding tightly to her mother, as her father watched them from the top of the stairs.
    “You're going then?” he said sternly. He looked like an old man to Beata for the first time. Until then, she had always thought of him as young, but he no longer was. He was about to lose the child he had most favored, the one he had been most proud of, and the last child he had at home.
    “Yes, I am,” Beata said in a small voice. “I love you, Papa,” she said, wanting to approach him, so she could hug him, but the look on his face told her not to try.
    “Your mother and I will sit shiva for you tonight. God forgive you for what you're doing.” She wouldn't have dared, but she wanted to say the same thing to him.
    She kissed her mother one last time, then picked up her bags, and walked slowly down the stairs as they both watched her. She could hear her mother's sobs all the way downstairs and as she opened the front door. There was no sound from her father.
    “I love you!” she called upstairs to the hall where they were standing, and there was no answer. There was no sound except her mother's sobs, as she picked up her bags and closed the door behind her.
    She walked until she saw a taxi, carrying the two heavy bags, and told the driver to take her to the railroad station. She just sat in the backseat and cried. The man said nothing to her as she paid him. Everyone had tragedies these days, and he didn't want to ask. Some griefs were not meant to be shared.
    She waited three hours for the train to Lausanne. More than enough time to change her mind. But she knew she couldn't do that. She knew with her entire being that her future was with Antoine. He had given up just as much for her. There was no way to know what the future held for them, but she had known that he was her destiny since the day they met. She hadn't seen him since September, but he was part of her now. He was her life, just as her parents belonged to each other. Brigitte belonged to the man she had married. They all had their destinies to follow. And with