It was a week later, mid-February, and things were so tense. I didn't know what was wrong with me. I knew it wasn't good for my plan to continue being angry. But I couldn't help it. I tried with all my might to act normally with James, but I wasn't a very good actress. But if I wanted out of there, I knew I needed to clean up my act.

My period came, and that was the start of the end—I had to start the pills. As embarrassing as it was, James knew my cycle, so I couldn't try to hide it.

I recalled reading about Jaycee Dugard and how her psychotic captors, Phillip and Nancy Garrido, had to tell her at age thirteen she was four months pregnant. She was so young and ignorant about her body, only having been eleven at the time of abduction, that she was oblivious to the baby growing inside of her. I was at least grateful I would never go through anything like that, as small of a consolation that may have been. Even if I couldn't get out of there before James raped me, at least I would get out in the long run. I had to keep reminding myself of that.

At dinner that night I sat down with a heavy heart. Things were changing, and I longed for our relationship to be as they were just a couple weeks ago. Life was so much simpler then.

When I sat down at the dinner table, I saw a little yellow pill next to my water glass.

So there it was. This was it, my birth control pill.

James finished setting the table. We were having vegetable lasagna. James said our customary prayer, something that still felt foreign to me, especially nights like these.

"Dear Lord," James began, "thank you for all of your blessings. We ask that you look over us during this transitional time. Be with us and guide us. Amen."

Transitional time.

James began cutting up the lasagna and serving it.

"Oh, man, that smells good," James said, trying to start conversation. "I'd like to say I worked on it all day, but I think Stouffer did instead."

I stifled a laugh, unwilling to give him any satisfaction. He passed me the salad and bread.

"So, Corrine," James ventured, "have you noticed the pill there for you?"

I inched up my plate to cover it.

"It's right there next to your water glass. Please take it."

I ignored him and began eating my dinner. To hell with him. The truth was I had already planned on taking it, knowing I didn't have a true choice. But, damn it, I was going to make him sweat it out, my own way of protesting. It wasn't much, but at least I had one little iota of control.

Dinner rolled on, and the elephant in the room sat next to my water glass. He was waiting for me to take it, glancing occasionally at my glass. He could keep on waiting, as far as I was concerned. The anxiety I was making him feel was so worth it. I was giddy inside, watching him squirm about what my next move would be. It took all of my strength not to burst out in a demonic laugh. I was being petty, but I didn't care. I loved having an ounce of control, for once. Three months of suppression.

At the end of dinner, I stood up to clear my plate, as usual. And there it sat, my pill, waiting for me.

"Wait a minute," James said. "I think you forgot something."

"No, no, I don't think I did."

What the hell was I doing? I was pushing it too far. I cleaned off my plate in the kitchen and put it in the dishwasher.

"Corrine, damn it, don't push this. Stop with the games."

He was right. I was ruining my plan. So I slowly walked over to the table, put the pill in my mouth, and took a swig of water. In my mind, my middle finger flew high in the air.

I mustered all of my bullshit abilities and said, "I'm sorry. I don't mean to play games. I just wanted food in my stomach first." I was sure James didn't buy that, but it was worth a shot.

"Corrine," James began, "it's going to be okay. I promise. Trust me."

He stood up and walked over to me. "I've been taking this slow because of how you feel. But I can't go any slower than we already are. You have to be realistic. We've been together for three months now."

"I know, I know. I'm sorry. I—I have accepted this," I lied. "It's just a lot for me to get used to. But I'll try harder. I promise." I went into the kitchen and began filling up the dishwasher.

He didn't say anything further.

A few minutes later, James asked, "Hey, how about a game of Monopoly?"

I cringed. All I wanted to do was finish the dishes and hide in my bed until morning. But I had to straighten up if I wanted to get out of there. No more pouting. No more screwing up. Play the game. Give them whatever James wants. After all, freedom's the ultimate prize.

"Sure," I said cheerfully without turning around from the sink. "Sounds like fun."

"Great!" James proclaimed. I could feel a lightness in the air. "I'll go get it."

"So, when are we going to see Dr. Manning and Sophia again?" I inquired. "He told me we could get together again soon."

"That would be nice. Let me look at my schedule and see what Dr. Manning and I can arrange."

"How about this weekend?" I asked.

"You're eager," James said.

"Well, you know, Dr. Manning said that . . . that I should talk to Sophia," I said, awkwardly.

"Oh? About what?" James asked.

"Uh, well, you know. Just that she went through the same thing I'm going through."

"Oh, yes. I see."

"So, can we go this weekend?"

"I'll call him tonight and see if they're available, okay?" James said with a smile.

"Thanks." I mustered a return smile. This was going to take a lot more energy than I anticipated.

"Now, let's play some Monopoly."

* * *

The next day I wasn't feeling very well, so James let me take a nap on the couch downstairs. For some reason, knowing I was somewhat trusted allowed me to reach a very deep sleep. It was like the comfort of sleeping in my childhood home, back in my previous life.

I awoke to James playing on the baby grand in the living room. He was playing low, but it was absolutely beautiful. The notes tickled my subconscious, wiggling into my dreams. It was such a melodic, melancholy piece, and I wondered what it was. I slowly walked over to the piano.

I leaned against the side of the piano as James kept playing. He was in his own world. I had never heard him play such an exquisite piece before, nor heard him on the piano. Only the guitar.

When he finished, I could hardly say, "What was that piece?"

"Oh, it's called 'Playing Love' by Ennio Morricone."

"It's absolutely beautiful. I—I don't know what to say. It takes my breath away."

He sighed. "It does, doesn't it?"

"How did you ever learn to play like that?"

"It's the music, not me. I just play what it tells me to play."

He began playing something else much more upbeat. It sounded like it was from the jazz era, but I didn't know much about older music.

"Don't be so modest, James. You have a pure gift for music. You really do."

He motioned for me to sit next to him. I sat and continued to listen for a few more moments, both of us in our own worlds.

"What is this piece?"

"I love this song. Another Ennio Morricone piece called 'The Crave.'"

It had me nodding my head, putting me in a much livelier mood than the last somber song. At this rate, I could've listened to him play all night long.

"They're both from one of my favorite movies, The Legend of 1900. About a man who was born on a cruise ship in the year 1900, and he never ventured off the ship. He grew up to be the best pianist who ever lived . . . but he never existed because he wouldn't leave the ship."

"What? I don't get it."

He kept playing.

"The world never even knew he existed. There was no record of him . . . We'll have to watch it together sometime. It's magnificent. Morricone won the Golden Globe for his music in the movie."

I could relate to a character who never existed. After all, I had suddenly disappeared off of the face of the earth.

James had a way of making those ivory keys sing, even more so than his guitar. He smoothly segued to some other song I had never heard before.

Next he played another melody that sounded like a sad love song. I couldn't stop blushing as he sung it directly to me.

"It's a Sting song called 'When We Dance.' He's given me a lot of inspiration over the years."

I was enraptured in that moment, slightly embarrassed by the attention, but it felt like no one else existed but us. When someone had as much talent as James did, I found myself mesmerized by his beauty.

"I'm so impressed about how much you know about music. I don't even know half of the music you play."

"Yeah, well, I don't discriminate," he chuckled.

"Do you play any modern music, like top twenty type stuff?" I asked.

"Yep. I play just about anything."

"You should be playing professionally."

"Nah. I have fun enough playing in town once in a while."

"You play in town? You're kidding me."

"Yeah. I play in a small bar when they need me. Usually two or three times a month. Sometimes Tyler does, too. But he plays in bars closer to his house."

"What does he play?"

"Guitar."

"I've been here all this time, and you never told me you play in a bar. What else do I not know about you?"

"If you play your cards right, you can find out so much more." He smiled.

"If I play my cards right, can I see you play in town some day?" I asked, holding in my nervousness.

He hesitated. "You never know. We'll see."

My stomach was in my throat.

A glimmer of hope for Corrine! Please make any comments you'd like, vote for the chapter, and/or follow me. I hope you enjoy the next chapter!