True to his word, I didn't see James again until New Year's Eve, around 5:00 p.m. I was beginning to give up hope. Maybe he had forgotten or changed his mind.

Suddenly the apartment came to life when the door swung open, and James bounced in, talking loudly and carrying a bunch of grocery bags. In an instant I felt alive again. Someone turned on the switch.

"Boy, you brought the whole store." I laughed, a little too loudly.

"I sure did," James smiled. My heart skipped a beat to see him again. "So, on the menu for this evening is steak and grilled shrimp."

"Mmmm, sounds good to me," I replied.

James opened a bottle of Merlot and poured me a glass.

James and I worked as a team preparing the food, like we used to, decades ago. It felt so good to be back together again, even if it wasn't exactly the same. But he seemed more comfortable with me than he was at Christmas dinner. It was definitely progress, and I was ecstatic for any bit of improvement.

After dinner we watched a movie and played poker. By the second bottle of wine, I felt much more comfortable, as if the bad history had melted away. The night was progressing well, and I was determined not to make any more mistakes. This was the new and improved Corrine. The Perfect Corrine.

At midnight we watched the New York City ball drop on TV, James holding my hand, and we counted down. When it hit midnight, we hugged one another, and James gave me a kiss on the cheek.

Then James stood up and picked up his glass. "Let's do a toast," he announced.

So I picked up my glass as well and stood.

James began, "I would like to make a simple toast." He raised his glass even higher. "To new beginnings."

"To new beginnings," I repeated.

And with that we clanked our glasses together and drank.

I looked at James, and he winked at me. I knew then he was letting me back into his heart, one last time.

* * *

I had been working out and eating right for about two months since living in Kansas. By then, I was beginning to fit in the size eight clothing James bought for me, although it was all a bit too snug. But it felt satisfying to even be able to fit into them. I hadn't been that small since high school, and I had let myself go ever since. I had focused on my studies and then my job in CPS.

But now, it was all different. Physically I felt great, an all-new body. I rarely enjoyed the workouts, and I especially missed all of my fatty foods and sweets. All of this healthy eating was a drag, but I was getting used to it. It was a small price to pay for feeling energized and healthy.

James let me borrow some health and nutrition books of his, and I really enjoyed them. One cookbook included many delicious recipes disguised as healthy. I cooked some of them for the two of us, and eating right didn't seem as much of a chore. James even liked them, which was saying a lot with my cooking abilities—or lack thereof.

During dinner in the middle of January, James said, "Corrine, would you be interested in attending a party?"

"What kind of party?"

"A B.F.O. friend is throwing a winter gala."

"Oh? What is that, exactly?"

"It's a formal party he throws every year."

"Dr. Manning and Sophia will be there," James added. "And the Palmers and Dan and Tyler's families, too."

I hesitated. "I don't know. I don't think Dr. Manning wants to see me anymore."

"I think as long as we're okay, he's okay," James said. "And there will be a bunch of other people too that you haven't met."

"Hmm, yeah, that sounds good to me. When is it?"

"Next weekend, the twentieth," James said.

"Where?"

"Well, it's a bit of a drive, about three or four hours north of here, so we'll probably spend the night there," James said.

"So, what are we wearing?" I asked.

James chuckled.

I was excited. Another outing. Anything to get me out of the small, no-windowed apartment. I couldn't get over my shock James would trust me again so soon. I was not going to mess up this time.

"I'll be wearing a suit, and you, my dear, will be in a beautiful gown that has yet to be located," James said.

"Which translates to, you haven't shopped yet, right?"

"OK, you're right," he conceded. "But I will in the next couple days, and you'll love it."

James flashed his beautiful, crooked smile at me.

* * *

A few days later James came in to see me in the middle of the day carrying a covered hanger that must've been my dress.

I squealed like a schoolgirl. "Is there something in there for me?"

Since when did I care about dresses? After all, I was a tomboy in my former life. James held it above his head, out of my reach.

"Maybe," he teased. "Go try it on."

He handed it to me and gave me a pat in the rear. I jumped forward in shock.

I ran into my bedroom and closed the door. It felt like Christmas morning, peaking into a present I had been long awaiting. This dress symbolized freedom to me, a look out of a long-ago closed door. I hooked the hanger to the bathroom door and lifted up the plastic covering, unveiling the dress. I gasped. It was beautiful. It was a red satin, full-length dress with a cowl neckline and cap sleeves with lace trims. I stared at the beauty for a moment. Then insecurity set in, and I didn't think I could pull off a dress this elegant. It was way too sleek and beautiful, with no curves or puffy areas to hide my body's flaws.

I hesitantly got dressed and stared in the mirror for a long time.

"Hey, did you fall asleep?" James asked, as he opened my bedroom door. He stopped in his tracks.

"Wow. You look . . . stunning," he whispered. Just what I needed to hear. He walked over and hugged me in a warm embrace.

"Thank you for the dress," I whispered in his ear. I pulled away, and he was staring into my eyes. He kissed me—on the lips—and I wanted to pull back but couldn't. Wouldn't?

Other than a peck on the cheek here and there, James had never tried anything more. This kiss, lasting only a few seconds, would have felt so good in any other circumstance.

The social worker in me took over. Another one of the criteria for Stockholm syndrome to occur was that the abduction had to last for a long period of time. Certainly over two months was a long period. Also, the captors had to spend a good amount of time with their victims, verses leaving them in seclusion. I was with James at least a few hours a day and most of the weekends.

Lastly, the captors have to show some kindness to their victims. James was very nice to me and supplied me with all of my needs. As time went on, I was learning to enjoy our time together. He wasn't the scary rapist I had thought he would be that first week I was taken. But where this was all headed always loomed over me.

I kept thinking that my reality was I would never be leaving here again. I could either die or accept my fate. The human condition teaches us to fight for our survival—so I chose to live. It was time to be pragmatic about this. It was that simple.

Yet, the more I tried to pound that into my head, the more that little part in my heart kept screaming, Don't give up, Corrine. Then I would tell it to shut the hell up. You almost got me killed last time! Leave me alone.

And so the battle went, day after day, hour after hour.



Will Corrine ever get away? Please feel free to make comments, follow me, and vote. Chapter 22 is now available by clicking below!