Consequences(188)

Claire’s heavy eyelids reminded her 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 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 she was important, desirable, and loved, still existed in a muted form. He was still attentive, present, and always sexual, but he was busy with work and often preoccupied. That was understandable—he was a successful man with many fires to tend.

It was his need for complete supremacy over every aspect of her life that felt stifling and unbearable. Claire theorized this was the cause of the suffocation which usually accompanied her nightmares. He had companies, peoples’ jobs and livelihoods on his list of responsibilities. The fact he controlled her comings, goings, e-mails, hair, and often attire—seemed ridiculous.

Attempting to stop the rise in blood pressure, she reminded herself that no matter what—she loved him. He could infuriate her one moment and make her feel less than human, and the next, he could make her feel like the world spun only because she mattered to him. It was just that those two contradictory emotions could come too close together and in any order. As Claire reminisced, she recognized that similar to a year ago, her mood, liberties, and sense of self-worth seemed to have a common denominator—Anthony Rawlings.

As that realization struck, he rolled toward her, wrapped her in his arms; and though still sleeping, murmured, “My love, you’re so cold. Come closer.” She melted against his warm chest. At this moment in time, he made her feel safe and loved. She closed her eyes and fell asleep.

As the spring blossomed into summer, their biggest source of dissension continued to be her family. Though she loved to hear from Emily, seeing her name on an e-mail made her stomach turn. It almost always came accompanied by dark penetrating eyes.

She would sometimes choose to have Patricia reply instead of herself. There were days and circumstances when the communication wasn’t worth the conflict. It depended on Emily’s words, some motivated Claire’s determination more than others. Her calls with Emily were always monitored. It was a reality she didn’t dispute. If she did, it would result in loss of all communication. He didn’t need to spell that out for her. She knew it as well as she knew that her freedoms lay vulnerable to his whims.

Since the call following the interview, Claire spoke with Emily about every three to four weeks. She heard from Emily at least once a week via e-mail. After Claire had her own e-mail address, Emily’s notes were more informative. Claire would hand-write her response. It was approved or edited and then sent by Patricia. If Emily questioned Claire’s ability to do anything, she’d profess her freedoms as Tony evaluated every word.

That same Tony was the one who surprised Claire with the long weekend at Lake Tahoe. And over Memorial Day weekend he arranged for a getaway to San Francisco. While there, they met Eli and MaryAnn for dinner at an exclusive nightclub with a glorious view of the bay and bridge. The next day, after a romantic drive down Highway 1 in a leased convertible, they strolled hand in hand on the beach at Big Sur. The force and spray of the waves pounding the huge rocks along the ocean shore astonished Claire. It wasn’t like the Gulf of Mexico or even the tranquil waters of Fiji. Instead, it reminded her of the beach scenes in movies. During these excursions, he made her feel like a star. Their final day in San Francisco they went sightseeing; no trip to Alcatraz was planned or even discussed.