She thanked them all when she left, and she drove home thoughtfully, mulling over everything they'd said. She didn't doubt any of it. She knew it was true. And she also knew that for some crazy reason, she wanted Jack to stop hurting her and to love her. She wanted to show him how, part of her even wanted to explain it all to him, so he could stop doing the things that hurt her. But she also knew now that he never would. He would just go on hurting her more and more. And even if she thought she loved him, she had to leave him. It was a matter of survival.

She called Bill from the car before she got home, and told him what it had been like. And he sounded relieved for her. He just prayed that they would give her the strength she needed, and she'd act on it.

And it was as though Jack sensed it when she got home. He looked at her strangely and asked her where she'd been, and she told him again it was a meeting relating to the commission. She even took a chance and told him it was a group for battered women they had wanted to check out, and it was very interesting, but just hearing about it made him angry.

“What a bunch of sick fucks that must have been. I can't believe they expect you to meet with people like that.” She opened her mouth and started to defend them, and then she closed it. She knew now that even doing that, and tipping her hand to that extent, could put her in danger with him. And she was no longer willing to risk it. She had learned that much. “What are you looking so smug about?” he accused her, and she looked as noncommittal and nonthreatening as she could, and refused to let him make her feel anxious. She was practicing what they had taught her that night at the meeting.

“It was actually pretty boring,” she said wisely, “but I promised Phyllis I'd do it.” He eyed her cautiously and nodded. He seemed satisfied with her answer. For once, it had been the right response.

And that night, for the first time in a while, he made love to her, and he was rough with her again, as though to remind her of his power. And no matter what she'd heard, he was still in control and always would be. But as she had before, she said nothing to him. She went to her bathroom and showered afterward, but no amount of water or soap seemed to wash the horror of him off her. She went back to bed without a sound, and was relieved when she heard him snoring.

She got up early the next day, and she was in the kitchen when he came downstairs, and everything seemed the same as always between them. But she felt like a prisoner now, chipping away at the walls, silently digging a tunnel to safety, no matter how long it took.

“What's with you?” he snapped at her as she handed him his coffee. “You've been acting strange.” She prayed he couldn't read her mind. She was almost sure he could, but she wouldn't let herself believe it. But just hearing him, she knew she was already becoming different, and that in itself put her at risk.

“I think I'm getting the flu or something.”

“Take vitamin C. I don't want to have to get a stand-in for you if you're sick. It's so goddamn much trouble.” He didn't even have to find the stand-in himself, but at least he had bought her story about not feeling well. But just listening to his tone, she was aware of how constantly rude to her he was these days.

“I'll be okay. I can go on anyway.” He nodded, and picked up the paper, and Maddy stared blindly at The Wall Street Journal. All she could do now was pray that he didn't figure out what she was thinking. But with any luck at all, he wouldn't. She had to make a plan, she knew, and escape before he destroyed her. Because one thing she knew now for sure was that the hatred she had suspected he felt for her was real, and far worse than she had feared.





Chapter 19




DECEMBER WAS BUSY AS USUAL. Parties, meetings, plans for the holidays. Every embassy seemed to be giving a cocktail party, a dinner, or a dance, whenever possible including their national traditions. It was part of the fun of living in Washington, and Maddy had always enjoyed it. In the early days of their marriage, she had loved going to parties with Jack, but in the past months, as things became more and more strained in their relationship, she hated going out with him. He was always jealous of her, watched her with other men, and afterward accused her of some misdeed or inappropriate behavior. It was stressful going anywhere with him, and she was not looking forward to Christmas this year.

What she really wanted this year was to include Lizzie in her holidays, but with Jack forbidding her to have anything to do with the girl, Maddy knew that there was no way she could. Either she had to confront him and make a battle of it, or she had to give up the idea completely. There was no compromise with Jack. It was his way or no way. She was stunned to realize that she had never noticed that before, nor how he belittled her ideas and needs, and made her feel either foolish or guilty for them. It was something that, for years, she had readily accepted. She wasn't even sure now how the change had come, but in the past months, as she came to understand how truly disrespectful of her he was, she had a constant need to fight her increasing sense of oppression. But however much at odds she was with him, she knew in her heart of hearts that she still loved him. And that in itself was terrifying, because it left her vulnerable to him.

She couldn't wait, she knew now, for that love to stop. Love had nothing to do with it. Even loving and needing him in some ways, she knew that she had to walk away. Every day she stayed with him was dangerous for her. And she had to constantly remind herself of it. She was also aware that if she had tried to explain it to anyone, no one would have understood, except those who had gone through the same process. To anyone else, the conflicting emotions and guilt she had would seem utterly crazy. Even Bill, with all his concern for her, didn't really understand it. The only thing that helped him at all was the fact that he was learning a great deal on the commission about the subtle and not-so-subtle forms of violence against women. And it was hard, in the true sense of the word, to call what Jack did “violence,” but it was the epitome of abusive behavior. Outwardly, he paid her well, had rescued her, provided her with security, a lovely home, a country house, a jet plane she could use anytime, beautiful clothes, gifts of jewelry and furs, vacations in the South of France. How could anyone in their right mind call him abusive? But Maddy and the people who saw the relationship under a finer microscope knew only too well what evil lurked there. All the cells of the disease were present, carefully concealed beneath the trappings. But hour by hour, day by day, minute by minute, Maddy could feel his poison devour her. She lived in constant fear.

And there were even times these days, when she felt that Bill was annoyed with her. She knew what he wanted from her, although she wasn't sure why, but he wanted her to get out and find her way to safety. And watching her stumble and fall, advance and retreat, see clearly and then let herself be consumed by guilt until it paralyzed and blinded her, was frustrating for him. They still spoke on the phone every day, and were cautious about how often they had lunch together. There was always the risk that someone would see her going to his house, and make an assumption that would be not only inaccurate but disastrous for her. They were always circumspect even when they were alone. The last thing Bill wanted to do was burden her with more problems. She had enough, he felt, without his adding to them.

The President was back in the Oval Office by then. He was working half days, and tiring easily, he said, but when Maddy saw him at a small tea they gave, she thought he was looking better and much stronger. Phyllis looked as though she'd been through the wars, but she beamed every time she looked at her husband. Maddy envied her that. She couldn't even imagine what it would feel like. She was so used to the tensions in her own relationship that it was hard to imagine living without them. She had come to take that kind of stress and pain for granted. And more than ever lately.

Jack was harsher with her than he'd ever been, quicker to jump down her throat over anything she said, and constantly accusatory about her behavior. It was as though, night and day, at work or at home, he was waiting to pounce on her, like a mountain lion poised to attack his prey, and she knew just how lethal he could be. The things he said were devastating. The way he said them even more so. And yet, there were still times when she found herself thinking how charming he was, how intelligent and how handsome. What she wanted to learn most of all was how to hate him, not just to fear him. She had far greater insight now, thanks to her abused women's group, into what motivated her, and what she was doing. And she knew now that in some subtle, unseen way, she was addicted to him.

She was talking about it to Bill one day, in mid-December. The network Christmas party was the next day, and she wasn't looking forward to it. Jack's latest battle call that she was flirting with Elliott on the air had escalated to his accusing her several times of sleeping with him. She was sure he knew that wasn't true, but he said it to upset her anyway. And he had even made a comment about it to their producer, which made her wonder now if Elliott's days on the show with her were numbered. She had thought about warning him, but when she said as much to Greg on the phone when he called, he told her not to. It would only make more trouble for her, which was probably exactly what Jack wanted.