"Excuse me?" Tony understood her tone-he wanted clarification on her meaning.

"The invitations I've received-who are they from?"

"I believe your ability to understand has diminished with your memory. I said I chose not to forward them to you. I decided you will stay home, safe. Good night." Tony lay back on his pillow.

She lay still for what seemed like hours. Finally, his breathing slowed and became rhythmic. For the first time since he'd proposed, she didn't want to be with him. Claire decided since they were in his suite, she could go to hers. She waited until she felt certain he was asleep, and then gently lifted the covers. Feeling for her robe she heard his booming voice rip through the darkness. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I'm aware the conversation is done and that I have no control in my own activities. It's all in your hands, but at this moment, I'm also aware you don't consider me a spouse or a partner. I'm going to my suite to ponder this information."

"No, you are not." Without a doubt-a conclusive statement.

At a little over 6'4" Tony's arm span was immense. Perhaps if she hadn't been tying her robe and putting her feet into slippers, she might have had better balance. Nevertheless, in less than a second he grasped her arm and her world tilted. She was once again lying on his bed. The weight of his upper body pinned her to the mattress. Memories of their wedding pictures came to mind-she felt small and defenseless.

"Tony, remember your promise." Her voice sounded falsely formidable.

"Which has always been contingent upon yours." Her chest suddenly became heavy-not from the weight of his body-but from his words. He continued, "You're right"-she didn't speak, unsure of her correctness-"The conversation is done and I am in total control of your activities, including where you will sleep, and which invitations you'll accept"-the tears began to pool in her eyes-"however, you're also mistaken. I don't consider you a spouse-I know you are my wife-you belong to me."

Her shoulders ached from the pressure of his forearms. His words weren't a revelation-Claire knew she was his possession. He continued moving closer with each word. "You are staying here tonight. You are not leaving me-my bed-or my presence"-the tears flowed-"Now it's time for you to respond appropriately." His weight shifted slightly.

Claire remembered times in the past when she hadn't replied quickly enough or to his liking. She focused her energy on keeping her body from trembling; however, she couldn't concentrate on that and tears-so, her words became muffled sobs. Swallowing hard, she tried to strengthen her voice. "I will not leave you." "Even if I left your bed tonight," "it would've only been because I'm upset," "not because I want our marriage to be over." She took a ragged breath-imagined his dark eyes-and thanked God the room was dark.

"Continue."

"I will not leave your bed. I've agreed in the past," "I agree now and forever" "to submit to your authority." "I'm sorry if I've given you cause to break your promise."

Inhaling, she tried desperately to defuse his temper. "If you recall-this entire incident started because I asked to be with you when you went away. I don't want to leave you-I want to be with you."

"Your ability to respond appropriately has benefited you on multiple occasions."

He released her shoulders and laid his head on his pillow. She stopped sniffling and tried to regulate her breathing.

"Now, take off that robe." As she obeyed he added, "I believe we'll experiment with some other forms of response." He rolled back toward her. "However, you are my partner. I don't want you to do anything you don't want to. So, perhaps you would rather go to sleep?"

Claire knew this was one of those offers you can't refuse her grandmother used to talk about. She answered, "No-I'd rather respond to you." She successfully avoided the trembling and almost stopped the tears. The end result was that her head pounded to the beat of her heart, currently too rapid.

"This time it'll not be verbal." His hands seized her petite frame as his domineering tone claimed her spirit. "As you may recall-this conversation is over."

Claire closed her eyes and nodded. She did her best to ignore her headache and respond to her husband. Just before they drifted to sleep, Tony offered more information. "Courtney and Sue have called multiple times-I'll think about their invitations. Emily has called and e-mailed. John called-he respectfully declined Tom's offer. I believe Emily can wait."

Claire's heart sank. This new information no doubt influenced Tony's temperament. She wanted to believe Tony's offer to John was made in good faith based on John's credentials. John's refusal didn't surprise Claire, though she was sure it did Tony. He didn't often experience rejection. This wasn't the first time she received the consequences of John's actions.

What concerned Claire the most was her relationship with her sister, would she be allowed to speak to her or see her? She kissed Tony and sounded as compliant as she could muster. "Thank you, I would really like to see Courtney and Sue." Claire wanted to move away from him-to the far side of the king-sized bed-or better-upstairs-but she rested her head on his chest. "I promise my memory is better."

"I'm glad to hear that." He slowly embraced her shoulder as his voice softened. "I need to be in Phoenix next week. It's been in the seventies there-perhaps you can join me."

She nodded her head. "Thank you-I'd like that." They fell asleep.

The next day, using Tony's iPhone, Claire was allowed to call both Courtney and Sue. She didn't utilize the speaker phone, and although present, Tony didn't question the content. Both ladies wanted to catch up and hear all about married life. Claire said she would love to. She'd check her calendar and get back to them. She also apologized for not returning their calls sooner-things were just so busy.

Much earlier than normal, the sound of Tony's alarm woke them on February 1. Their flight to Phoenix was leaving at 7:00 AM. The trip was only planned for one night, but Claire didn't care. They were leaving the estate and that was enough to propel her from bed to the shower. She would stay at their apartment while Tony met with associates; if all went well they'd dine out tonight. He described this apartment as one of their smaller ones. As she showered, she wondered what small really meant.

Steam filled the bathroom with a muggy fog. She secured the luxurious lavender towel around her body as Tony entered. "We aren't going to Phoenix."

Her shoulders slumped. "Why? Did I do something?"

Tony hugged her warm body as water dripped from her hair onto her shoulders and the floor. "No. We can't go anywhere. Eric just called. We should've looked out the window."

He took her to the tall French doors leading to her balcony. When he moved the drapes she could only see white. At least 12" of new snow had fallen on the ground, trees, balcony rail, everywhere. With the addition of the 810" of old snow, there was now almost two feet, and it continued to fall, accompanied by wind. Barely seeing beyond the balcony, she saw drifts transforming the backyard into an ocean of white waves. Heaven knows how deep the snow was in the bigger drifts. Claire sat on the bed with large droplets gliding down her back-discouraged-and sighed.

Sitting next to her, Tony rubbed her leg. "Think of it as a snow day. Didn't you like those when you were a kid?"

"Yeah, because I didn't want to go to school-but now I want to go."

He hugged her shoulder. "You want to go to school?"

Exhaling loudly, she said, "I want to go anywhere."

Tony lifted some of her hair. "Well, I'm afraid you'll catch pneumonia if you try to go somewhere."

She laid her head back on the bed, pressed her lips into a tight line, and looked up at the ceiling. If she opened her mouth she would scream. She was trapped!

Leaning over her, he grinned. "How about we celebrate our newfound free day?"

She knew what he was thinking, and she didn't want to celebrate. Telling him no was supposed to be her option; however, it hadn't been tested, and Claire didn't think she was emotionally strong enough for the trial. Despondently, she asked, "How do you want to celebrate?"

Still leaning over her, he said, "How about you take me to your lake?"

"What?"-Claire's thoughts spun-The lake would be frozen and was about five miles away. Would they freeze? It was out, out of the house!-"Are you serious?" Her eyes sparkled as she tried to read her husband's expression.

"If it makes that spark come back to your emerald eyes-I'm serious"-he kissed her forehead-"We have boots, coats, and gloves, everything needed to ski. It was one of our honeymoon options. So let's get you dry, us fed, bundled, and find this lake I've heard so much about."

"It's about five miles away. Don't you need to talk to the Phoenix people, let them know what happened?"

"Are you trying to discourage me? I'll contact the Phoenix office. We can communicate later in the day. It's still very early there, and I know I'm older, but I really think I can make five miles"-he smiled with milk chocolate eyes-"Besides, we also have cross-country skis. Do you think you can get us there on skis?"

In the midst of a Midwest blizzard, Claire was filled with more warmth and excitement than she'd felt in sometime. Their discussion a week ago left her uneasy. She didn't like the way he'd treated her, or the way it made her feel, but once it was done-she hesitated to revisit the subject. Now, he wanted to go to her lake. "I bet it's prettier in the summer, but I'd love to get out. I know I can find it."

They ate breakfast, and Catherine made them thermoses of coffee. She chided both of them for even thinking about going out in the snow; however, with Tony by her side Claire knew it didn't matter. She was going to her lake, a place she hadn't been since her accident.

They dressed in layers, wrapping themselves head to toe, complete with hand and foot warmers, and were out of the house before 8:00 AM. The wind had subsided but the snow still fell.

It had been many years since Claire had cross-country skied; however, the motions swiftly returned as the long slender skis and poles allowed them to glide over the 20+" of snow. At first, she worried about navigation, but with most of the ground level obstacles covered-it wasn't difficult. Skiing was much faster than walking. They reached the clearing in less than thirty minutes. Claire told Tony all about the flowers, butterflies, and animals present in the heat of the summer.

They wore tinted goggles to shield the brightness of the snow, but she sensed his serenity as he listened to her stories. They arrived at the lake shore approximately forty minutes later. Claire wasn't cold. She was exhilarated from the fresh air, exercise, and scenery. Green leaves and blue waters were her preference, but the snow covered the evergreens and glistening ground were beautiful. The frozen lake, covered with peaks and valleys of drifts, reminded her of a large flat cake with vanilla frosting. She felt as warm as if it were August.

Tony was completely enthralled by the glistening vista before him. He'd never taken the time to experience his own property. It wasn't something he cared about or gave much consideration-until now. As they stood and watched, three deer, one six-point buck and two does, galloped at full speed from left to right across the lake. Tony stared at Claire. If the deer could do it, they could too. Skiing on the lake was effortless compared to the woods: no hills, valleys, or trees-only open space. The wind and snow had ceased. The farther west they traveled, the more of the shoreline they could see. Everything looked virgin, completely unspoiled.

After the snow ceased, other animals ventured out of their warm homes. They saw foxes and multitudes of squirrels and birds. Tony said he thought all birds went south for the winter. Claire explained not all birds migrate. She told him that in Indiana the cardinal was omnipresent. She remembered always being excited to see one in winter, it looked so red and vibrant in contrast to the stark gray of winter. Tony continued to ask questions and listen to his wife.

It was almost one when they arrived back at the house. Catherine was elated to see them. She'd been worried. She promised she would send lunch, but first wanted them to get warm. Entering Tony's suite they found his large fireplace roaring with flames and radiating tremendous heat. Claire laughed as Tony removed his ski hat. His hair was messier than she'd ever seen and his cheeks were pink and frigid. Her giddiness amused him. He offered to help remove her winter gear. It didn't take long to realize Fiji had been a better honeymoon destination. Snow activities required too many clothes.

When their food arrived Tony covered Claire with a blanket from his bed. She lay on the rug in front of the fireplace with the soft down comforter and Tony wore only a pair of gym shorts as Cindy wheeled in their lunch. Cindy started to put the warm foods and drink on the table, when smiling at Claire, Tony told Cindy she could leave. Cindy thanked him and left the cart.

Claire smiled at her husband, bare chested, setting their lunch on the table. "Sometimes I think you're the most amazing man I've ever met."

He poured two cups of coffee and carried them to his wife. Joining her under the comforter he prompted, "And other times?"

Answering honestly, she said, "Other times, I don't like you." He looked at her with astonishment. She kissed his lips. "Today is definitely a like day."

His smile warmed her heart as he said, "I'm glad."

While eating lunch Tony asked Claire about the don't like days. She thought about playing it off, lying, or telling him she was joking. Then she decided to be truthful. "I love you-I really do. I sometimes feel like the luckiest woman on the planet, but other times I feel like a five-year-old." She waited. Did he understand what she was trying to say? His eyes weren't darkening; he was listening. "I know you may not think so, but I really don't have any intention of causing you harm. Why would I? You told me your grandfather trusted the wrong people. Was your grandmother one of them?"

Tony seemed slightly shaken by the mention of his grandfather. "No. Why do you ask?"

"Because I'm going to assume she loved him and he loved her. If they didn't they wouldn't have married." Tony nodded his understanding. Claire continued, "I realize there are people who may try to hurt you or your business, but I'm not one of them." She wasn't sure how she could explain her feelings to him. She looked directly into his eyes. The mention of his grandfather minutely darkened them. "I don't have a problem with you being in control of our lives-I trust you. I just wish you trusted me, so I could feel like a wife instead of a child or a possession."

She'd been happy, but this conversation was making her sad. "I'm sorry-I'm ruining this wonderful day." She looked down at her lunch and her cold soup. Closing her eyes she heard his chair move. Claire didn't want him to see the tears escaping her lids. She didn't look up.

Anthony Rawlings gently took his wife's hand and helped her rise from her chair, then tenderly lifted her chin. Seeing her tears, he said, "Claire, it seems to me that you apologize a lot."

She started to say she was sorry, but snickered at herself instead.

"See? See that smile you have? You can't, but I can. It's beautiful, even with your hair a mess-which it is, and your smile, doesn't stop at those perfect lips-it extends to your pink wind-burned cheeks-and most dramatically-it extends to your bright, emerald green eyes." He was bending with his nose millimeters from hers. "I apologize for not causing that smile to come out more."

Claire felt her resolve melt as her knees weakened. Thankfully, she was being supported by his strong, steady arms.

Tony continued, "You're right about so many things. Listening to you talk today about the different trees-snow-a blizzard-animals-and birds-you know so many things I've never attempted to learn, and you know me better than anyone. I've tried to keep my past that-the past, but you've managed to take the bits and pieces I've offered over the course of a year and weave them together into some psychological basis for your comprehension of me. I must reluctantly admit you're correct." She wanted to say something, but he kissed her tenderly and continued, "You have not intentionally given me reason to do anything but trust you and yet, I know I have not always behaved well. This may come as a shock, but I have issues with control"-she couldn't help but smile-"There's that smile."

Tony led her to the sofa in front of the fire. Wearing a soft bathrobe she sat in front of him and leaned her head on his t-shirt covered chest as they both faced the fire. The beat of his heart and the sound of his breathing echoed in her ears. The fire radiated warmth and his skin the aroma of exercise. She felt safe and secure-but at the same time-she had the feeling of living in a house of glass. The security could crash into broken pieces at any second. He asked her what she was thinking; she answered and he didn't respond for a long period. She was apprehensive to turn and see into his eyes.

Finally, he spoke again. "Perhaps I'm afraid of losing you, afraid if you truly know me you won't want to stay with me."

She wasn't sure, but due to his voice and breathing, she wondered if he was having difficulty staying composed. She wanted to alleviate his discomfort, tell him it was okay-he didn't need to say anything else. She didn't turn around as she spoke, "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. I want to trust you more and be less controlling-what I don't want is to ever hurt you like I did-if you're kept safely away from the world, there's less of a chance that anything will happen which could 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'll do my best to follow your rules. I'll discuss things with you prior to doing them. I'll 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 velvet borders; however, she was certain her imagination and reality differed.

"Tell me what you want. What freedoms have I taken, that you'd like returned?"

She told herself, here is your chance, respond appropriately. "I'd like access to my own invitations. I won't accept or decline without speaking with you, but I would like the knowledge there are other people out there who care about me. I'd like to be able to speak to my sister without being afraid you won't let me-or be upset by my conversation. I'd 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'd like you to be able to contact me directly about our evening plans-not to be told by Catherine. It makes me feel juvenile." She'd done what she could; she'd been as honest as she could. Now, 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 tender lovemaking. The lunch was warm-soup, Panini, and hot coffee. Now they'd shared, talked, and been totally honest with one another. Feeling drained, Claire's body melted against his. She waited for his response, knowing her fate didn't rest in her own hands. She had no choice but to trust the 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 Thirty-Five.

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 suite had technology. She'd seen him use it. The large framed screen could access the world at a click of a remote.

Tentatively, Claire rose and walked to his bureau. The top left drawer contained that key to accessibility. She didn't want to point and click-she needed to know if she could. The internal monologue began Can Tony see me? He'd never talked about cameras in his suite. Did they exist? Is this a test? A trap? She asked for the ability to upset him. Claire decided she needed to know if she'd been granted that chance.

Her hand trembled as she gripped the slender handle. What if the drawer was locked or the remote was gone? Calling upon her courage and strength, she pulled. Through the darkness and into the cavernous depth, she saw it-silver with black buttons. The remote was there, available to her. Emotions swept through her-relief-she was getting the chance she requested. Happiness-he was trusting her. Sadness-she couldn't touch it. Fear-would he catch her? She listened for the sound of footsteps-or worse-doors opening. The only sound came from the fireplace. Claire carefully closed the drawer, walked back to the sofa, and collapsed onto the soft cushions. The flames flickered as the scene melted before her moistening eyes. She pulled her knees into her chest and watched the blaze before her. Fear and sadness pushed relief and happiness away. Summoning the happiness, she told herself-this was a good thing. She attempted to regain her composure before she left his suite.

About a week later, she sat perched on a high stool with her Gucci heeled boots teetering on a wooden rod, listening to her friend's voice-more evidence of progress. Claire loved Courtney's company. She could talk enough for the both of them-making Claire laugh in the process. Today, Courtney was talking about the Red Cross, the amazing job it did responding to natural disasters and helping the citizens of Iowa and the United States. She explained the financial problems facing the organization with donations decreasing and needs increasing. Courtney was the fund-raising chairman for the Quad City Chapter. She asked Claire to help with her committee, believing they had the connections to individuals and businesses who were surviving the economic slowdown. They could use those connections to help raise money. She asked Claire which fund-raisers she thought would be most profitable. They discussed the pros and cons of an auction-banquet-sports-tournament-or raffle-there were so many possibilities. Courtney wanted to exceed last year's goal.

The pub where they sat was electric with energy. Located on the University of Iowa's campus, its tables overflowed mostly with students coming and going. The hum of voices combined with the sound of moving chairs caused Claire's toes to wiggle with excitement. She hadn't been around this many people in so long. She longed to absorb all the vitality. Claire told Courtney with a degree in meteorology, the idea of assisting with a charity which aided with the disasters she used to forecast, appealed to her.

Courtney gave her a folder of information. It contained a calendar of scheduled committee meetings and a list of committee members' names, e-mail addresses, and telephone numbers. As Claire ate her salad, she scanned the contents. This volunteering would be more time consuming than she'd realized. That was great. Of course, she knew she would need to run it all by Tony, but how would it appear if Mrs. Anthony Rawlings wasn't willing to help charities? Besides, he'd allowed this outing, knowing Courtney intention-more evidence.

Courtney stood to get them both more coffee, and Claire looked around the restaurant. She couldn't believe her exhilaration at being out with a friend. Between Courtney and the surroundings she feared her chest would pop. The people at the other tables looked so carefree. They probably took their freedoms for granted-Claire knew she used to. Exhaling, she thought about her husband. He was trying to consider her requests. She smiled as she remembered him telling her to call Courtney.

Everything seemed normal as he entered her suite and talked about his day. It was as he entered the bathroom for a shower that his words stunned her. "Claire, I almost forgot, Courtney would like you to call her. My iPhone is on the bookcase. Her number is in the address book under Courtney S., help yourself." Then he turned and closed the door. Claire stared. Was it really him? The other times she called from any phone he'd dialed. She worried perhaps she imagined the whole scene. Her legs wobbled as she walked toward his phone. Slowly, she picked it up and went through the address book. She scrolled until she saw Courtney S. There were many names. She continued to scroll and saw Emily V., John V., and John V. home. She scrolled back to Courtney S. and hit the dial icon. The screen indicated the call was in progress. It didn't last long and Claire believed her clammy hands and shaking knees weren't detectable on the other end. Most excitedly, she'd made a call which led to this lunch.

When Courtney returned, she set the mugs on the table. Their salads were gone and the Red Cross had been thoroughly discussed. It had been fun. Now they were having some more coffee and chatting before returning home. Gently, Courtney reached out and held Claire's hand. Suddenly, Claire felt uneasy. With as much practice as she had maintaining eye contact in difficult situations-she looked away from her friend-Courtney's pale blue eyes showed too much concern.

"I'm so glad you've agreed to help me," Courtney spoke softly and slowly.

Claire's uneasiness made her want to pull her hand away. Instead, she smiled. "I'm happy I can help you and others."

"Claire, you don't need to be perfect all the time. You don't need to say everything perfectly, look perfect, and be perfect. Life isn't a test you must continually pass"-Claire stared silently at her friend, afraid her voice might crack as the energy of the room evaporated-"I just want you to know, Brent and I have known Tony for a long time..."-Claire swallowed. She'd heard this speech from everyone who knew her husband and entitled it the Great Man Speech-usually accompanied by he works so hard-"And he can be a pompous-condescending-controlling ass."

Claire's eyes grew wide and her head dropped. She didn't cry-she laughed-suddenly and uncontrollably-bordering on hysteria. It wasn't good for appearances. Apparently, her laughter was contagious because Courtney started laughing, too. People looked at them. Fleetingly, Claire didn't care. After a few moments, she regained enough composure to ask, "Excuse me? What did you just say?"

"Honey, you heard me. I'm pretty sure you know exactly what I said"-Courtney squeezed Claire's hand again-"Don't get me wrong, I love your husband, but, let me be honest, sometimes I hate him too"-Claire nodded-she completely understood-"It's all right; however, it's not all right for you to feel alone"-Claire listened-"Your husband loves you. I see it in his eyes when he looks at you. I've never seen him look at another woman the way he looks at you. He also has demons-ones I can't even begin to understand-he also has serious issues with control. He can drive Brent crazy sometimes."