It had been almost a month since things ended with Ed. I hadn't seen him until the night of an opening at a large gallery downtown; there was a woman artist who was showing. Anne Harrington. In my experience with their group, women rarely showed their art and not at a gallery like the Frumkin Gallery. While we were getting ready, before we went to the show, Jeff talked about how much Ed liked her.

"It's the first woman who's been intellectual enough for Ed." Jeff remarked getting dressed, having me help him with his tie. He was completely Jeff again and as the weeks had passed, the preceding awful months grew out of focus. I still had angry, hurt feelings but it seemed like a memory that I couldn't fully piece together.

"What kind of paintings does she do?" I asked him. I was trying to sound half-interested. He was putting his socks on. His perfectly shined shoes were next to him. I thought of how impeccable he was, compared that to Ed's rugged way. I noted in that moment, Ed's body compared to Jeff's; both masculine and attractive to me, but so different.

I felt like he was taking too long to answer my question. I was growing jealous of this woman and wanted to know more.

"She's, let's see, she's avant-garde." Jeff smiled at me, "I think that's what Ed likes. He thinks she's absolutely gorgeous, I don't agree." Jeff looked at me. He must have seen the look of jealousy and frustration. He must have thought I was insecure about his commenting on the woman's looks, really I was upset that Ed had fallen for someone else.

Jeff finished tying his shoes and walked over to me. He stood in front of me and kissed me. I was wearing a cocktail dress. It was black silk, a strapless sweetheart neckline, fitted waist and flared skirt. I had spent money on the dress and I'd bought it because I would see Ed. I lived constantly with the conflicting guilt and yearning. I didn't think that when Ed called it off he'd really meant it. This would be the first time I would see him since. And, there Jeff was telling me about this fabulous painter. I touched Jeff's face and kissed him back.

"You're really the most beautiful woman at any of the events. You know that don't you?"

I smiled and walked to the dressing table. I picked up a pack of cigarettes and took one out. I lit it and looked at Jeff.

"I don't like that you've started smoking darling." He walked over to me and reached to take it away.

I just looked up at him and stared. Ever since he'd asked me to let him back in it seemed that a fixed expression was all it took for him to withdraw.

"All right, but no more than one or two." He took a cigarette from the pack and lit one too. He shook out the match. I held the ashtray in front of him and he tossed the match in. I put it back on the dressing table.

"What is avant-garde art?"

He sat back down on the bed and shrugged his shoulders. "You know what it is."

"No I don't. I'm not an artist."

He looked at me with a curious look. "What's gotten into you tonight?"

I shook my head and looked in the mirror. I'd done my hair in soft waves around my face. I examined myself and as much as I didn't want it to be, it was now in comparison to this woman.

"What's her name again?" I said to Jeff's reflection in the mirror.

He stood and walked over to me. He took the cigarette from my hand and put it in the ashtray. He did the same with his. He was directly behind me and began kissing my bare neck. I could see in the mirror that my face was still serious. I softened it because I knew that I was not acting as I ordinarily did.

"Her name," He whispered against my skin as he kept his lips on my neck, "her name is Anne Harrington."

I pulled away, "Why do you men always want younger women?"

He stood shocked. "Why are you angry with me about this girl?" He was still playful.

"I'm sorry." I said. " I guess going to a show reminds me of how it was with you not too long ago." He was always paying retribution those days. I allowed this to disguise what was really beneath my frustration.

He walked into the closet and back out again. "I have something for you." He was carrying a square black velvet box. I looked up at him and watched as he carried it over. I inspected him. I realized in that moment, he was too much what I'd always wanted. I tried to tell myself that those few months of his affair were nothing. I'd almost completely wiped away Jeff's violence. I couldn't really feel the I acted with him. It was as though I'd drawn a line from where my feelings were to where they would have been if he hadn't changed. I tried to be that woman, show him those feelings.

"I'm sorry. " I said, "I'm being horrible. My moods have been so unpredictable." That was true. A lot had been happening but it seemed I would grow angry over nothing. And, I knew it was unusual for me to cry over Jeff's carrying on. Ever since the hospital I'd learned to commandeer my emotions. Put them somewhere else, but it seemed these last few weeks I couldn't contain them. So, although our conversations about Suzanne were fewer and fewer whenever we discussed it, I would immediately start to cry. That seemed, to satisfy Jeff somehow. Maybe it was evidence that I still loved him.

"Darling, you have every right to feel the way you do. I bought this for you. I want you to know how much I love you." His eyes grew intense and caught the light of the room. Returning his stare caused me to feel dizzy, it was almost as strong and electrical as a physical touch. I didn't know what it was, power I supposed. The unspoken power that was always there.

"What is it?" I walked over to him and he slowly opened the top. Inside was a diamond and emerald choker. It was breathtaking. I couldn't say anything. He placed the box on the dressing table and removed the necklace. I turned towards the large round mirror as he gently put it around my neck, fastening it. He stood behind me and just looked at me.

I felt my feelings sink yet again. It was such a feeling of pain and heartache. It was all coming from inside of me. The lies, the deception. "Why did you do this?" I whispered, again tears coming to my eyes. He turned me facing him and led me to the bed. We both sat down on the edge.

"Oh look at you Eve, don't cry." He removed his handkerchief and wiped the corners of my eyes. "You look so beautiful. Don't ruin your make up." He leaned over and kissed me. I put my arms around his neck and kissed him back.

"Make love to me," I said softly. He leaned me back on to the bed. He ran his hands over my silk dress and staring into my eyes he unzipped the back of my dress. "I love you," I whispered.

We walked into the gallery, an enormous set of rooms with three quarter walls. The lights were art pieces in and of themselves, . The ceiling was so high that unless you looked up you may not have noticed them. They were like large molecules in chrome with it lights. Several of them hung above and the atomic projections emanating from the center in a seemingly random arrangement. I did notice the lights first upon walking in, but as soon as I entered the sea of people in the gallery, and was face to face with Anne Harrington's art I forgot all about the lighting. The walls were painted white. Her work was arranged sparsely around the room, large swaths of white from the walls and then a dramatic placement of her work. I recognized that the lights mimicked the aesthetic of her paintings. Hers were large paintings with geometric forms and lines radiating from an abstract arrangement of the shapes. Only a few of the squares or circles were shaded with color and those colors were washed out orange-red, pale aqua, and muted yellow. These paintings had no meaning to me what so ever. There was no evidence of any subject matter. It seemed more to me a design fit for a curtain or table cloth than a work of art. I supposed they might have represented a concept, but as much as I studied one or the other, my mind remained blank. I recognized that I may have been transferring my envy over her relationship with Ed on to her artwork. But, I think I would have found them boring even without provocation. I spotted one hanging on a back wall. This one was very colorful and I studied it for a while. It was still mostly geometric, but was bursting with bright reds, greens and yellows. I thought I made out a violin or guitar shape amongst the colors. As much as I tried to lose myself in Anne Harrington's art, I found my mind kept wandering back to Ed. I had been looking at the paintings a while when I felt a hand on my arm. I looked up and it was Ed. He was carrying two gin and tonics.

"How have you been Eve?" I took the drink from him. He removed a pack of cigarettes form his pocket with his free hand and somehow brought one to his lips. He was digging in his pocket for a match.

"Let me hold this for you." I said taking his drink. I watched him as he found the match and lit the cigarette. He reached past some people standing in a small group. "You mind if I grab this ashtray?" He said not waiting for an answer. He looked back at me. "How have you been?"

"I'm doing fine." I said. I didn't want to appear jealous or hurt. It wasn't my place. "I like the paintings."

"Avant-garde." He said with a note of sarcasm blowing the smoke from his lips. I hated that this familiarity we had --the flirtation-- that it was secret. I wished in that moment that he and I were together and there was never any Jeff.

I took the cigarette from him and took a drag.

"I've gotten you hooked haven't I?"

"On these?" I held up the cigarette. "Yes, I'm afraid I am."

"What does it mean anyway?"

"The paintings?"
"Yes. Well, what does avant-garde mean?"

"Breaking the rules. Straying from what is conventional, saying screw you to the status quo."

I held up my glass "screw you status quo!" I said in a mock toast.

"Yes, screw the status quo."

The noise of the crowd rose to my awareness. I could see a small group in the distance, forming a circle of bodies around one center target—the image itself not unlike on of Anne Harrington's avant-garde pieces. Molecular.

"Is that her?" I asked.

He nodded, gulping down her drink. "She's just remarkable." He said and his eyes turned towards the crowd. But, he didn't leave to join her circle. If I stood tall on my toes and maneuvered myself I could get glimpses of her. She was younger than me. She was very pretty, but not so feminine. Her face was heart shaped and her hair cut short. She wore what looked like a men's tuxedo. Her lack hair contrasted with her pale complexion just as her white shirt did with the dark pants and bow tie. She wore red lipstick and her lips were thin. She was pretty.

"Well," I said, "I'm glad you found someone."

"Who did I find? You?"

I felt the desire rise in me. I smiled at him and turned my head away for a moment, back towards Anne Harrington. "Jeff said you're very interested in Ann Harrington. That you two spend a lot of time together talking."

"I am. We do."

I nodded and looked down. When I looked back up at him, his eyes were fixed on mine and we had a secret, intimate communication. I wondered if anyone could see it. If an outsider would recognize the intensity of our sexual tension. Or, was it just between us, a chemistry. He leaned close to my ear. I felt his skin almost touch my cheek, his breath on my neck. I felt faint. "She likes girls," he whispered to me. I felt my heart rise.

"Oh, I thought there was something about her, but I couldn't pinpoint it."

"I don't know why so many of us art professors like girls," he joked.

"Well, that's a relief." I didn't mean to reveal my feelings. I had told myself to keep my composure and the idea that he'd found another woman made it feasible. I'd thought about seeing him the entire drive to the gallery. Jeff was going on about taking me on a vacation, how we'd never had a honeymoon. He felt it was time for me to see Europe. Paris, in particular. I'd kept half of my attention on him and I had a genuine interest in his plans. The other half of me was in the cottage with Ed. The sensuousness of those late afternoons, the color of the sinking sun, glowing hues. His whisper and touch. I felt woozy and dreamy. I no longer entertained my euphoria over Ed. I didn't do that to Jeff, let my feelings spill over and give him false affection. It seemed my affection for Jeff was kept in small containers and not unlike the Belladonna seeds in the jar in the greenhouse I knew parts of our feelings for one another were deadly.

"I need to see you one more time," I admitted.

He raised his eyebrows and drew his cigarette to his lips. He squinted an eye at me and smiled. "I need to see you all of the time, but we can't. I'm not putting you in danger. I haven't stopped thinking about what you said. I am trying to imagine Jeff doing that. He's arrogant but I didn't take him—"

"Don't you want to meet one more time?" I interrupted. I knew our moments together that night were limited.

He looked down at the floor. "Yes."

I took the cigarette from him and took a drag. I smiled at him. Then, Jeff walked over to us. He put his arm on my back and kissed my cheek. Dangerously Ed and I exchanged a glance.

Jeff took the cigarette from my hand and put it out in the ashtray. "I don't like you smoking." He said. I felt now that Jeff's arrogance was obvious. How he saw me as a child. I had always taken that sort of affection as a protective love.

The rest of the evening moved as a ballroom. I felt everyone was moving in a joyful rhythm. I no longer exchanged glances with Ed. I was fully satisfied knowing we'd be together again. It was late and I was drinking another gin and tonic. I had been staring at a large painting. It was abstract and all of the euphoria and alcohol had given me some kind of understanding of the aesthetic. I was lost in the world of the avant-garde. I had been walking around by myself studying each picture. After I knew that Ed wasn't interested in Anne Harrington, I began to like her art. I felt a hand on my waist again. For a moment I foolishly thought it was Ed, but of course it wouldn't be. It was Jeff. "Darling are you ready to go home?"

I nodded and smiled at him.

The next rendezvous with Ed was, in fact, the last. It was not because we wouldn't have continued. It may have gone on for years and the fact that there was no commitment or expectation made it even more seductive for me. We were lying in the cottage, we had just made love. It was cold outside and the snow remained deep with snowdrifts practically barricading the entire stretch of garden between the cottage and the house. The road to the guest cottage had snow piled high on each side and was icy and slippery from the intermittent rain that froze almost instantly once it had hit the ground. It was better that way. The ice didn't leave tire tracks. We had made love but he continued to caress my body.

I loved watching his hands on my skin and I told him so. "I feel like you are sculpting me."

"Your skin is warm and soft."

"Like clay?" I asked.

"No." he said, "I love the feel of your skin." He leaned over and kissed me. I grew to love the feel of his warmth against me. He traced my stomach with his fingers. "I've never had a woman like you."

"What do you mean?"

"There's something about you. You leave an impression. It lingers. I can't get you out of my thoughts. Your perfume stays on my skin, on my clothes. I know we won't be together, but it's been very easy to fall in love with you."

I looked into his eyes and held his stare. I could feel his depth. How on the surface he was nonchalant. Not like Jeff was. Jeff was always put together and in many ways arrogant. Ed was partly like the people I'd grown up with, Harry and Carmen, people content with just who they were and how their life was. Without a need for wealth and prestige. I often felt that Jeff and his family were always swimming ahead, trying to get to the finish line. But, that wasn't Ed. He was sophisticated. I knew he had attended prestigious schools, but he didn't carry it with him. He was a well-known artist, had been commissioned to create works for public spaces. His sculptures inhabited homes having been bought by wealthy art lovers. I turned over and looked up at the ceiling, the wooden beams. I had such beautiful things. Everything had been a dream. Even Carmen who hated Jeff had to admit I'd gone farther in life than the people we knew in Portland. I'd even risen above her. She had taken the train once a year before, just her. She had come to visit me, something I would never have thought would happen. I guess, because we had been so close, she wanted to be sure I was safe and, of course, she'd missed me. During the visit, she and Jeff hardly said a word to each other. He thought she was common. She thought he was a criminal. But still, how it looked. How it was before the violence, it was enviable. She never came back and we hardly spoke on the phone after that. Maybe I had been the one who thought I'd become more than her. Maybe it was all my fault.

Ed moved on top of me. "This really is the last time, Eve. I'd never forgive myself if he hurt you."

With that I closed my eyes and he kissed my neck. I felt the intoxication of being with him.

A few nights later I was sitting in the front parlor with the three children. The wall of French doors reflected the light of the lamps around the room. I was reading to their new favorite Bobbsey Twins book to them Merry Days Indoors and Out. It was about the twins, of course, and it was wintertime. The story followed the two sets of twins through outdoor adventures in the snow and was full the types of trouble children could get themselves into. There were also indoor shenanigans, but always in the respectful, idyllic childhood way. I wondered if they loved that series so much because the Bobbsey family life was so blissful and underneath ours was so stressful for them.

Clara moved in closer to me and reached for the book. She gently pulled it away from me and I released it from my hands. She reminded me of Jeff in that moment when she said in an overly affected grown-up voice, "I think we'd all like to go straight to the part where they bake the cake." She turned the pages to chapter 13. "Here mommy start here."

I took the book back from her and began reading,

"Let's cried Nan."

Jeffery now chimed in, "do the voices, mommy."

I took on the tone of a sweet little girl, ""Let's!' cried Nan." Then I altered my voice slightly for Flossy. "'Yes, Let's! echoed Flossy." Then, as a joke I made my voice into a hushed monster voice. "'I want to help too,' put in Freddy." At that Charlie who had been jumping off one of the upholstered chairs ran over to me and then moved to sit on the couch near Jeffery.

"Read it like a monster mommy!"

"No don't" Clara interrupted, "Please, I'm very interested in this part of the story." Charlie stood and jumped from the couch again.

Clara looked up at me. I smiled back, "what is it sweetheart?"

"Can you have another baby?"

I hadn't considered a baby, although it could have happened at any time in the last few years. "Oh, darling I have all the children I want."

She turned her head to the side and made an exaggerated sound. "If you have a baby then, Jeffery can have a twin just like the Bobbsey twins."

"But, they wouldn't be the same age."

"I want a sister though."

"Well, let's get on with the story, all right?" I began reading again and it went on for a bit with the Bobbsey children deciding to bake a cake by themselves when their mother and housekeeper were gone.

Charlie was still jumping and I looked down at Jeffery who had fallen asleep against me with my arm around him. "Shhh, whisper all right?" I said to Clara.

"Can Charlie, Jeffery and me bake a cake by ourselves too? When you and Miriam are out?"

"I'd have to teach you how first."
"Will you teach me tomorrow?" Clara whispered. At that the door opened and Jeff walked into the foyer as Charlie jumped from the couch yelling like a monster. Jeffery woke and started to cry. It took just a moment to sooth him.

Clara stood up and ran over to Jeff. "Mommy is going to teach me to back a cake and then I can do it alone with Jeffery and Charlie. Probably tomorrow morning, isn't that right momma?"

"Yes, that's right sweetheart." Come back over here and sit with me. Clara did as I'd asked. I didn't get up because I wanted to let Jeffery wake a little more. I had fixed myself up for when Jeff returned. I wore a sleeveless white shirt that buttoned up with a collar. My navy skirt was A-line and I wore matching navy pumps. I knew immediately something had happened. A bolt of fear rushed through me. He dropped his hat on the bench and his took off his coat and laid it over the arm of the upholstered bench in the foyer. He leaned his portfolio against the chair.

"Where's Marian" He asked. His tone was angry.

"She's putting the dishes away."

'Oh she doesn't have to take my coat anymore?"

"Let me get it."

I started to stand but Jeff said, "Don't bother. Where in the hell is Elise?"

"I gave her the night off. I wanted to be with the children. She has a boyfriend."

"I'm so glad you two are such good friends." He scoffed.

"Read mama," Jeffery asked ready to turn the page. Clara scolded him again and Charlie started up with the climbing on the furniture. He jumped from the chair on to the floor and pretended to die, lying on the ground making dying gulping sounds.

"Charlie come on over now." I said sternly but calmly. I was so afraid I didn't move. Jeff walked swiftly into the room and grabbed Charlie by the wrist He pulled him by the arm and made Charlie face him. "You are going to learn to behave, do understand me?" I moved past the other children to Jeff and Charlie.

"Let go of him!" I demanded. At that Jeff pulled Charlie towards the kitchen and yelled for Marian.

It didn't take a moment for Marian to enter the room. "Mr. Lambert? What can I do?"

Jeff looked directly at me as he spoke. "Take the children. Mrs. Lambert and I need to talk privately." I felt my heart sink. I knew he must have found out about Ed. He must have. What would have changed him since the day before? This was very bad.

Marian was frozen for a moment. "Come along Jeffery and Clara." Charlie had already been released and was running towards the kitchen yelling monster growls and stomping on the wood floor periodically. I wish he weren't becoming so defiant with Jeff.

Clara started towards Marian holding the book. She turned back and ran over to Jeff. "Daddy, please sit with me. I want to show you how I can read the words. Can't I read to you?"

Jeff softened and I watched him closely. Clara was his favorite and he would never turn on her. She was perfect in his eyes where as Jeffery and Charlie seemed to bring out a strictness that lacked any affection. He bent down and kissed her on the forehead. "I'll come tuck you in before bed. Bring your book with you." Clara looked at me and I could see what she was doing. She was trying to protect me. I started to tremble and wanted to run but there was nowhere to go.

"Please daddy. Let me read to you. Please"

"Now why don't you go Clara so I don't have to scold you." She walked slowly towards Marian who was looking down. Despite removing the children during these bouts of violence, they all knew about it. Once they'd left the room I stood and tried to remain strong. I controlled my tone and looked at him, ready to reason.

"What did I do? What's gotten you so angry?" He walked over to his coat, picked it up and removed a man's leather glove from the pocket. I didn't know what was happening. I studied him. "Jeff you haven't been angry in so long. You promised me you wouldn't. What is that you have?"

He held it up. "What was this doing in the guest house?"

"I don't know." I walked over and he handed it to me. I examined it. "I don't know."

"Why would a man's glove be in the cottage?"

"Jeff really."

"I know Eve."

"What do you know?"

"I know what you're doing."

"But I'm not doing anything."

"Why would this be there? There's no explanation and you know it!"

"I told you I don't know. Maybe a worker left it in there."

"Do you think that gardeners wear leather driving gloves? Besides when was the last time anyone was here to work on the garden? There's been a God dammed blizzard for a month now."

In that moment I felt the courage to tell him. He would hurt me but it would be the last time. I knew if he knew I'd had an affair, especially with Ed, Jeff wouldn't want me anymore. He may have always said how much he couldn't live without me but he'd never tolerate it. I walked over to him, stood close. Just as I was going to say something I could see his clenched jaw, I saw the rage in his eyes. Instead of a confession I said affectionately, trying to sooth him, "Jeff darling. You're the only one. I wouldn't do that to you. Don't you know that?" He softened for an instant. I knew he didn't really know about Ed. I knew he 'd been suspicious, gone to the cottage and yes, it was likely Ed's but Jeff really didn't know. It was evidence though and strong evidence. "Please, let me make you a drink." I turned and walked to the liquor cabinet. I poured him a scotch and walked over to hand it to him. In a swift motion he swung towards the glass and it went flying across the room smashing against the liquor cabinet. I prepared myself for the worst. I also spied the room and considered what I could use to defend myself. This was a new strategy. Maybe I could hurt him too. I backed away towards a lamp on the table. I'd planned to pick it up and hit him with it. I'd run out the front door. I didn't know where I would go or how I would get there in the snow but that was my instant plan. He walked towards me and raised his hand. He struck me on the face and as I was trying to back away towards the lamp he held me by the shoulders. I could see in his eyes the same look the afternoon he'd forced himself on me. I could feel an episode starting in my mind. I could feel myself slipping from my body. I turned my head and flinched. He pulled me closer and shook me.

"Look at me Goddamn it!"

I turned towards him. "Please Jeff. You promised me. I f you do this I can't forgive you. Why do you do this to me?"

"Eve, listen to me closely if you've been with someone else. I'll kill you." At first I thought he was just saying that out of anger but when I looked into his eyes the hatred was so apparent. "I promise you I will kill you."

"Jeff if you don't let me go. If you don't stop I'm leaving you."

He stepped away and looked at me. He turned and looked towards the French doors. I took a breath and felt a relief. He was going to stop. I wanted to go tend to the pain from the welts on my face. I could feel my lip had swollen my nose ached in pain. I let out another breath.

He turned back to me. "Go Eve. Get the hell out. You're not going to ever see the children again. Jesus two of them aren't even yours. I can't understand what kind of mistress falls in love with a married man's children."

I started crying and sat down on the couch. I put my head in my hands and wept. I wasn't able any more to contain things. I sat up and leaned my head back on the couch. Now that he'd started up again, I looked at him. I hated him. I was still crying and holding my face. My lip was split and bleeding. I stood up and started out of the room.

"Where are you going?" He asked and when I looked at him, his jaw was clenched and he looked like he was waiting for a provocation.

"What kind of man beats a woman? I asked him. "Look at my face! I'm going to get a cool cloth so it doesn't swell up AGAIN!"

"You want to leave me? Go Eve. That's what you've threatened all along. But know this, you'll have nothing." He was calm as he walked towards me. "No judge is going to give an adulteress a damned thing. Not the children. Not any money."

"But I have money." I said. I didn't know why I'd said it. It only validated my threat. "You said it yourself before we got married."

"You do?" he walked towards me and looked down on me. "Eve go if that's what you want to do. Take up with whomever it is you've been sleeping with."

"Stop accusing me! You're the God damned cheater!" I stood and lunged towards him. He grabbed my arms and held me before he pulled me over to the couch and then pushed me down. As I struggled against him, I fell to the floor and somehow he kept his balance. He moved to the floor and forcefully pushed me back down as I tried to sit up. I began crying loudly. I was acutely aware of the children and didn't want to scare them, but I couldn't control it. I knew what he was going to do to me. He put his hand over my mouth. He removed his hand from over my mouth and I was paralyzed with shock. I felt my mind melting into nothingness. I felt myself falling into the abyss; the the memory of him raping me before. The hospital. The icy water. I had moments of awareness and in those moments I tried to push him off of me. I looked around for something to hit him with. He tore open my shirt. Finally I had a moment of control. I reached for his face and scratched it. He didn't seem to feel it; he placed his arm over my chest and held me down, causing pain into my neck and ribs. It was just the same as the first time.

"Jeff please don't. You promised. How could you be so cruel? Why do you hate me so much?" Just like the first time he couldn't hear me. He was possessed by rage. He struggled to pull my skirt up and I had my hand on the fabric trying my hardest to keep it down. I turned my head to the side and wept. The first time he'd held my face and made me look into his eyes. I felt a searing pain and that's all I remembered until I woke up again in the bathtub. Just like in the hospital, I'd lost a block of time. It was as though my mind refused to experience it.

I was in the bathroom on the other side of the house, the one nearest the guest room. I put my hand on my face and could feel how swollen it was. But I wasn't my face that hurt, it was the searing pain on my insides. It was just the same as the day I was sent to the hospital. It was so much the same that I didn't know where I was. I couldn't tell if I were back there or in my home. I heard a faint knock on the door and then there was Miriam's voice. "Eve? Can I come in?" She'd never seen me without clothes. I already felt so exposed and ashamed.

"Just a moment Miriam" My voice was hoarse from yelling and crying.

I stood and put on my robe. I sat on the bench by the window. "All right, come in," my voice trembling

Miriam entered. She was carrying two ice bags. She went to the linen closet and removed two washcloths. Then she rinsed them in the sink. She sat down beside me on the bench. All I could do was cry silent tears. He gently wiped my face with the cloth. It hurt to have her touch me. I just watched her worried expression, her gray eyes fill with tears. I saw her lip tremble but she swallowed and regained her composure. "I've brought you some ice bags Eve. I'm sorry I didn't help you."

I shook my head. "There's nothing you could do. I'm glad you were making sure the children were protected from it."

She took a deep breath and let it out. "He's so cruel to you," she whispered.

I took her hand and lowered it from my face. I held it there with the cool cloth. "Did he do this to Margaret too?"

She looked at me for a long moment before she spoke. "Not like he does with you. He only hit her maybe twice and it seemed like just one strike and she retreated. She kept away from him most of the time. It didn't leave any marks."

I don't know why but that made my heart sink. It made me feel as if I'd caused it. And, then the affair with Ed. That was so wrong. Ed and I both knew how dangerous it was. It was a matter of time.

"I have to leave," I confessed to her.

She nodded and continued to clean my bruises and cuts. "It's so hard with the children. I think he does it to you because he's jealous of you. Margaret really wasn't very much of a woman."

"Still, I feel terrible for her. She would have ben a better person if she'd had a husband who loved her."

"I don't know about that. If I can be honest."

I was able to summons a slight smile. It was nice to have someone to take care of me. In that moment Miriam reminded me of Mary. Her tenderness and love. I missed Mary so much and only wished she were still alive. I wished I could go home to her and Frank. They were really my only family. "If I'm honest," she said softly, "Margaret was quite a lot like Julia."

I pulled away and she put her hands down. "Julia?"

"What is it?" Miriam asked.

"Here I'd been thinking she was a meek, a little waif, sad all of the time"

"Well, around Mr. Lambert she was somewhat meek. Well, I don't know if it was meek, more...I don't know. She didn't love him, everyone knew it. But, she had the same ideas about the children as Mr. Lambert. It was horrible for Elise who wanted to play with them and act silly. Margaret scolded them any time they'd tried to be affectionate with her. Mostly she'd keep to herself. Most days she didn't even see Mr. Lambert or Clara and Jeffry. She and Mr. Lambert spent almost no time together. Not like the two of you. "

I looked down at my hands, they ached and when my eyes examined my arm there was a large bruise between my wrist and elbow.

"Maybe that's why it's worse. One time cleaning, I found a whole drawer of drawings. At the time I didn't know it was you. I realized after that, that's what he did in the evenings locked up in his study. When you and I first met, I recognized your face immediately. I don't know what I thought. I shouldn't have looked in the drawer I know, but it was partly opened and when I went to close it--"

"Why did Margaret marry him?"

"She was pregnant with Clara."

I started crying again and Marian moved towards me and put her arm around me. I cried into her shoulder. She felt so much like Mary that I continued to cry for some time. She rubbed my back and whispered "Shh, it's all right." Over and over until I calmed down.

Finally, I looked up at her. "Why does he want to hurt me so much? Why is it just me? Why not Margaret? Why doesn't he love me?"

She wiped my eyes. "He loves you, Eve. You know how much in love with you he is, don't you?"

I nodded. I felt like this was going to be another talk like Mary had had with me about how women have to learn to accept the way men are. We have to accommodate them. "I know a part of him loves me."

She held my stare. "Do you mind if I tell you my opinion? I know it's not my place."

"Don't be silly. I don't think that way. I'm not like Jeff and Julia."

"Eve, He's a man who beats women. I think he's worse with you because of how special you are. On the one hand he is crazy about you. But, you--It seems are one of the kindest people I've ever met. At the same time you're strong and so beautiful. I believe he brought you here because he's wanted you all along. But, there's no way to give him what he wants from you. I don't think it's possible. And, no matter how much he wants to be in charge, you control things."

"I don't know about that," I said. I let my eyes trace the lines between the tiles of the marble floor.

"I think...I think it's going to keep getting worse, Eve. This is the worst so far."

"Do you think I should leave him?"

"These children would be lost and so heartbroken without you. I know you have to take care of yourself but...."

"He said he'd kill me."

She shook her head, "I wouldn't have thought he'd be capable, but his anger. I—I don't think its out of the realm of possibilities. He loses his mind with you."

That night I went back into our room. Despite the snow I planned to walk to the cottage. It always felt so comforting there because all my experiences there were safe and enchanted. Jeff was no part of it. It was mine. It was mine and it was full of my time with Ed. I knew I had to make plans to leave. I needed time to think it through. If I paused, gave it time I'd be too afraid. I decided to call Carmen the next day and have her arrange for train tickets. I began to cry when I thought of Charlie and me leaving the other children, but I would come back for him. Miriam had seen everything maybe with a witness, I could have them. Charlie and I would leave first. Every now and again my mind would flash on the belladonna in the green house. It was just a thought of revenge. I would never have been able to hurt him, or anyone. I walked into the room to retrieve my clothes, boots, a warm sweater. Jeff was sitting in the upholstered chair in our bedroom, near the window. He was staring out into nothing, smoking a cigarette. A glass of scotch in his hand. When I walked in I didn't look at him, I kept my hand over the right side of my face that had swollen worse than the left. I was wearing one of my long silk robes and had it tied tight. I could feel the soft fabric against my bruises and it didn't hurt but was a reminder of how badly I'd been injured. I felt the searing pain on my insides. When I entered the room and met Jeff's eyes momentarily I felt such a overwhelming shame. He took a sip of his whiskey, his eyes on me. I looked at the ground, bit my lip and started silently crying.. When I went towards the closet. Jeff asked softly, "What are you doing Eve?" All the hatred had drained out of him. It was always that way afterwards. He would calm down once his rage had dissipated. As ridiculous as it sounded, he seemed to look to me to make everything seem all right again.

"Nothing." I replied.

"You're doing something, what is it? Why are you collecting your clothes?"

I turned to him, my face was then completely exposed. It looked like he was taken aback, his eyes widened and he started to get up but he didn't. "Eve." He whispered. "What did I do to you?"

"What you always do" I answered. I knew there was no risk that he would hurt me again that night.

He stood up and walked towards me. Despite the fact that I knew he wouldn't hit me again, my body instinctively backed away.

"I'm just going to the cottage to sleep. Don't worry." I said turning away from him. When I reached for my sweater my hands were shaking so badly that I had to stop and clasp them together.

He had stood up and was next to me. He put his hand on my waist and turned me towards him. "No you aren't going over to the guest house Eve. It's freezing out there, the snow between the house and the cottage is too deep. I don't want anything to happen to you. You're staying here."

"Stop telling me what to do."

"Come here for a moment." He took my hand. I don't know why I followed him. "Let's get you into bed." He sounded loving and fatherly. He untied my robe and pulled the sheet and blankets down. He pulled the sleeves over my shoulders. When he did, he looked down at my bruised arm. I moved my hand to my arm and tried to hide it. I was so exhausted that I lay down. He pulled the covers over me and left the room. I was so relieved that he wasn't going to stay with me. In a moment he returned with a cool cloth. He pulled the chair up to the bed beside me. He held the cool cloth against the swelling on my cheek. He gently dabbed it and I let him. The bedside lamp cast a yellow shadow but the room was dim. His blue eyes took on a deep indigo, much darker than usual. He stared at my bruises and would look up at me periodically looking into my eyes. I didn't want him too nurse me back from the injury he'd caused but I didn't want him to stop. I closed my eyes.

I was trying to conceive of a way to get out. There was no way. I knew at that moment why I'd come, why I'd stayed after all he'd done. I wished I could tell Carmen and Ed so they would understand. Until that night, I thought I loved him. I opened my eyes. He was staring at me. The look on his face was full of sorrow and regret.

"I couldn't take the thought of another man touching you."

"I know." I whispered and turned on my side, away from him.