My period came and went a few days later. I had now taken the pill for a full month, and I knew that signaled to James that now he had the green light—it was only a matter of time. I didn't know what his plans were, and I wished he would tell me. But I was too afraid to ask.

But my plans had stayed the same—keep your eye on the prize. We had gotten along really well that month, and I was often hanging out downstairs. One step closer.

A few nights after my period ended, James came upstairs and started cooking dinner.

"Hi," I said as I walked into the kitchen.

"Hi, beautiful."

He gave me a peck on the lips and poured a glass of wine for both of us.

"What do you have in the bags?"

"I'm making a baked Dijon salmon with stuffed bell peppers and salad, ma'am," he said in his best French accent.

"Oh, sounds delightful."

We clinked our wine glasses together.

"But, why aren't we cooking downstairs?"

"Oh, I don't know. I just thought it'd be nice and comfy up here."

Then I knew. This was it. I don't know how I knew. I just knew. I didn't say anything. And he didn't look at me.

Normally, dinner would've been delicious. I loved fish and stuffed bell peppers, but that night it all stuck in my throat. The dinner conversation felt strained, like a first date that was going downhill fast.

"Listen, Corrine. I know this is a little . . . awkward. I'm sorry if I don't know what to say."

"That's okay," I said dully.

We ate in silence for the rest of the meal. I was drinking more wine than I was eating food, but James didn't stop me when I kept refilling my own glass. If I was buzzed enough, maybe I could get through this. I was so relieved when he opened a second bottle.

I thought of Sophia then and how she spent so much time and energy fighting the inevitable. She was right—there was no sense in fighting it. I couldn't see myself ever enjoying it, but I did decide I was going to cooperate. After all, I tried reminding myself women had sex all the time when they didn't want to. So I would merely have to figure out how to do that, too.

After dinner, I began clearing the table.

"Just leave it. I can clean it up later."

"Are you sure?"

He gently grabbed my sweaty hand and led me to the bedroom. But I wasn't ready. I wanted to drink more. We were standing a foot away from the bed, and he began to kiss me lightly around my face—my cheeks, my forehead, my nose—but not my lips. I felt queasy.

"I know you're nervous," he whispered in my ear. "But, I promise, we'll take it slow."

Just make it fast, so we can get this over with.

He kissed me on the lips. He put his arms around my waist and gently lifted me up onto the bed, and then he lay next to me.

"I love you, Corrine. Thank you for this gift."

* * *

I wished I could say I liked it, that I found it as pleasurable as James did. But the truth was, it didn't feel good at all. What did I expect? I tried to relax, knowing it would hurt less if I did, but the more I tried to relax, the more my muscles tensed. James kissed my tears and tried to console me. I just wanted it over quickly.

Afterward, he held me in his arms, and we lay quietly, immersed in our own thoughts.

"How about some Ben and Jerry's?" James asked suddenly.

"Ice cream? How come?"

He rarely let me have dessert, unless it was a special occasion.

"Oh, I don't know. Just because I love you." He smiled and gave me another kiss.

He got dressed and went into the kitchen. I went into the bathroom to survey the damage. I couldn't imagine how in the world I was ever going to get used to this. I had to get out sooner than later. I put on my bathrobe and went out to the kitchen.

"Would you like Chunky Monkey or Cherry Garcia?" James asked.

"Mmm, surprise me."

We sat on the couch together and ate in silence while Taylor Swift played on my iPod.

After we ate our ice cream, James asked, "Do you want to watch a movie?"

"Nah, I'm kind of tired. I think I'm going to head to bed, if you don't mind."

Just leave me be, please.

"I understand. I'll clean up, then head downstairs."

I put my bowl and spoon in the dishwasher and headed out of the kitchen, but James was blocking my way.

"Are you okay?" he asked sincerely.

"I will be, I think," I replied, wiping a tear away.

"Oh, honey, I'm sorry."

He enveloped me in his arms, triggering my waterworks. I was trying so hard to be strong, but in the end it was just too much.

"It'll be okay. It'll get better, I promise."

I promise . . . I promise . . . I promise . . . He was always so full of promises.

How could rape ever get any better?

* * *

The next weekend, Dr. Manning and Sophia were coming over. I had really hoped we could go to their house again, but James said we needed to share hosting responsibilities. I had to admit, he had a point.

I lay low that week after the night with James and really hoped not to have another encounter with him for a while. I wondered how often he would expect me to have sex with him. Was he going to be a sex maniac? Was he going to expect me to perform disgusting acts on and with him? But for that week, he left me alone.

I spent all morning in the downstairs kitchen, cooking and preparing for our big feast. James helped me a lot. As much as I hated cooking and anything under the realm of the word domesticated, I didn't so much mind when I was downstairs and enjoying some of the freedom. It made me feel almost human, living a normal life. And one step closer to my goal.

When Dr. Manning and Sophia arrived, the atmosphere in the room picked up, and the usual hustle and bustle ensued. Lots of hugs and laughing. Something about their charisma made me excited, and any time I was allowed to be with Sophia was sure to be a good time.

After lunch, Sophia excused herself and pulled at my dress, intimating I should follow. I picked up my wine glass and went to the family room with her.

"That was absolutely delicious, Corrine. You outdid yourself," Sophia proclaimed as she sat down on the sofa.

"Thank you, but James did most of it. I'm not that good at cooking."

"Oh, please. That's not what I've heard . . . Speaking of hearing things, Richard told me you've been doing well."

"Doing well?"

"I mean, you've been getting along with James and taking your pill."

"Oh, that . . . Well, yeah, I guess I have."

"And, is everything else okay?"

"Didn't Dr. Manning tell you? I figured it would be on the nightly B.F.O. news report by now," I said facetiously. "It happened last weekend."

"And? Are you okay?"

"Well, I took your advice. You were right. There was no point in fighting it. And—And James was really nice about it all." My voice trailed off.

"But you're not happy?"

"How can I be happy? It's rape, Sophia. It's a lot to get used to is all." I fought back the tears.

"Oh, honey." She leaned over to hug me. "You can't think of it like that. You're doing really well. Just imagine how much anguish you're saving yourself."

"But, how did you ever begin enjoying it? I can't even imagine it. It's disgusting, quite frankly."

"You will, if you give yourself the chance. Once you realize James really does love you and doesn't want to hurt you. That's about the time I began to relax and let things go."

"I don't know. I don't think I'll ever get to that point."

"Don't be so sure. You'll see."

My thoughts trailed off, and I suddenly wished I were in my bedroom by myself. I didn't want to talk to Sophia anymore. Or anyone. I didn't want to be like her. I couldn't end up like her.

"We better go check on the men," I announced.

"Yes, let's."

The day couldn't end quickly enough for me, but they seemed to stay for hours after dessert. All I wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep for a day or two. I was in such a funk.

Finally, Dr. Manning and Sophia packed up to leave, and we walked them out. The sun was setting, and the March snow was melting, giving away to the beginning of spring. It was beautiful.

"That was a fun visit," James said, closing the door.

I walked into the kitchen to start cleaning up the huge mess and didn't even know where to begin. The dishes looked endless, but my body felt like lead.

"You go sit down on the couch and relax," James instructed. "I think you've done enough."

"Well, if you insist. Thanks. Thanks a lot." He kissed me tenderly. It was almost worth the price of getting time off.

I plopped down on the couch, and James brought me over a glass of ice water.

"Oh, thank you. Just what I need," I said.

"No problem. This was a wonderful day. Thank you for all of your hard work, Corrine."

"Thanks for helping me. It was well worth it. We should have them over more often."

He kissed me again. "I agree." And smiled.



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