Consequences

respond for a long period, she was apprehensive to turn and see into his eyes. Finally, he spoke again. “Perhaps I am afraid of losing you, afraid that if you truly know me you will not want to stay with me.” She wasn’t sure. But due to his voice and breathing, she wondered if he was having difficulty composing himself. She wanted to alleviate his discomfort, tell him it was okay, he didn’t need to say anything else.
    She didn’t turn around. “Tony, I’m pretty sure I know you. I’m also sure I’m still here.”
    “Because you haven’t had the opportunity to leave.”
    His arms were tenderly wrapped around her. She caressed them gently with her small hands. “No, not because of that, and not because of the gifts or the trips or the money, I’m still here because I made a commitment to you. I did that in Central Park and again in our home, because I love you and want to be with you.”
    He hugged her. “Mrs. Rawlings, I love you too. And I want to trust you more and be less controlling. But what I don’t want is to ever hurt you like I did. If you are kept safely away from the world, there is less of a chance that anything will happen that would cause me to react as I did before.”
    “I used to feel that way, like I wanted to stay here and not risk the chance of upsetting you. I do not want to upset you. But, Tony, that isn’t a life. Having me home waiting for you because I have no choice and having me home waiting for you because I want to be are two totally different things.” She waited but he didn’t respond, so she continued. “If you would trust me, I will do my best to follow your rules. I will discuss things with you prior to doing them. I will check with you before I go anywhere. I understand the importance of appearances and the significance of consequences. I don’t want to upset you. I do want the opportunity to upset you.” Claire decided this conversation was easier without looking into his eyes. She could imagine small black irises with large chocolate borders. However, she was certain her imagination and the reality behind her would differ.
    “Tell me what you want. What freedoms have I taken that you would like returned?”
    She told herself, oh boy! Here is your chance, respond appropriately. “I would like access to my own invitations. I will not accept or decline without speaking with you, but I would like the knowledge that there are other people out there that care about me. I would like to be able to speak to my sister without being afraid that you won’t let me, or be upset by my conversation. I would like the ability to leave the estate—just because. And again, it wouldn’t happen without your consent, but just to know I can.” She listened to his breathing, the only alteration occurred when she mentioned Emily. “And I would like you to be able to contact me directly about our evening plans, not to be told by Catherine every night what is happening. It makes me feel juvenile.” She did what she could, been as honest as she could. She exhaled and relaxed against his sturdy chest. She couldn’t think of anything else to say, she’d wait.
    The outdoor adventure was exhilarating, cold air, brilliant snow, and muscle exertion from skiing. The warming up process had been remarkable, crackling fire, soft rug, and the tender lovemaking. The lunch was warm: soup, panini , and hot coffee. Now they shared, talked, and were totally honest with one another. Claire’s body melted against his, she felt drained. She waited for his response, knowing that her fate wasn’t in her own hands. She had no choice but to trust this man who had her wrapped affectionately in his arms. Closing her eyes she listened to his heart, his breathing, and drifted off to sleep.

 
Nobody can go back and start a new beginning,
but anyone can start today and make a new ending.
—Maria Robinson
     Chapter 35
    Grandma Nichols once said, “ The only constant in life is change .” Claire prayed those changes would be good. After their heart-to-heart , she began to see small signs that gave her hope.
    The afternoon of their talk, she awoke on the leather sofa in Tony’s suite. Hugging the warm comforter, she gazed around. The diminishing daylight accentuated by the glow of the crackling fire illuminated the room. She was alone. At first, she assumed her husband was in the adjoining bath or dressing room, but open doors and silence soon told her otherwise. This had never happened. His