Consequences

told her that tonight it would last hours instead of minutes.
    Self-therapy consisted of a mental list of reasons that her nightmares were ridiculous and she had no basis for her fears. Claire believed that if she could convince her conscious self, her subconscious self would be forced to agree. When she allowed her mind to go back to the spring of a year ago she could rationalize that now her life was significantly dissimilar. She now had more liberties than she’d experienced since her arrival.
    Tony stayed true to his word about her e-mails. He even decided that she needed her own address, [email protected]. This made printing easier. He was also correct about the numerous requests for interviews, money, and endorsements she received daily from people she’d never met. Having Patricia respond to those requests was easy. She also received personal e-mails. And now she had a voice in the responses. Overall, when asked Tony agreed to requests regarding Courtney, Sue, Bev, or MaryAnn. If he had other plans for the day in question, this occurred from time to time, his plans trumped. But the act of requesting was the crucial portion of her negotiations. If she wanted to reply to someone or to go somewhere, as he had said many months ago, she simply needed to ask. She’d become accustomed to this component. It was a daily reminder of Tony’s authority.
    Regarding that authority, it did not assert itself as it had a year ago. She reasoned that perhaps it was because her behavior didn’t warrant that type of implementation. No matter the cause, life was undeniably better.
    Watching the moonlight on the budding trees, Claire reminded herself of the outings that she’d recently enjoyed. They’d included lunches in Iowa City, Red Cross meetings in Davenport, and shopping in Chicago. A few weeks ago MaryAnn suggested a catch-up day in New York as she and Eli were there for business. Tony reviewed all of the e-mails before Claire and she didn’t expect permission to spend the day in New York, but she asked. Surprisingly he acquiesced. Smiling and feeling her pulse slow, she remembered him offering a company jet and flying off to a beautiful April day in NYC. All of the women had a marvelous time and she made it home before seven. He was home first, but she was home for dinner. He wasn’t unhappy.
    Calming, she listened to the voice in her head and the gentle breeze that blew her hair, remembering a recent unexpected freedom. Secretly coveting the chestnut hair that kept trying to return, she informed Tony that she needed an appointment to maintain her blonde. He said they had no overnight plans in the near future, so she should just go. If he had the private plane she could take one of the company jets, just plan to be home before dinner. Shocked, she remembered questioning, “Are you saying I can go by myself?”
    “My dear Claire, is there any reason you should not?”
    She assured him there was not. He or Patricia arranged the appointment, and Claire went to the airport and boarded a company jet by herself. She landed in Chicago, took a waiting cab to the Trump Tower, where she spent the rest of the morning being pampered. Then she ate lunch and shopped for a few hours and came home. Blushing in the cool night air she thought about being back in her suite before six and how she did her best to show her husband the meaning of a statement she’d made months earlier : coming home to a wife who wants to be home is better than coming home to a wife that has to be home . He caught on pretty quick, the first indication was the spark in her emerald eyes and the next clue involved a black satin robe and a warm waiting bath. Truth be told, she couldn’t remember eating dinner at all that night.
    Claire’s eyelids reminded her that she should be sleeping. Slipping back into her suite and under the warm blankets, she thought about the man lying next to her. He continued to be a paradox. The man Claire met when she first arrived hadn’t shown his personality since her accident . She knew he was still here, that knowledge alone was motivation to obey his rules. She’d been told too many times that his promise to keep that personality away was contingent on her ability to behave appropriately. The stress of that reality and unpredictability loomed omnipresent.
    The man who worked to court her, to convince her that she was important, desirable, and loved still existed in a muted form. He was still attentive,