Slowly, she stood, having no idea how long she’d been sitting on the shore. Her muscles ached. She wondered if the cause could be sitting on the smooth pebbles or if it was the activities of Friday and Saturday night. When those memories entered her mind, she felt her stomach knot. Eight more days. She knew without a doubt this would be where they were spent.
Survival is not so much about the body,
butratheritisaboutthetriumphofthehumanspirit. —Danita Vance
Chapter 14
Wednesday arrived sooner than Claire hoped. Since the discovery of her lake oasis, she spent every day there and returned to the house by six each evening, as promised. Truly, the first night had been close. She even needed to run part of the way, but she made it. Now she knew the way and that it took an hour and forty-five minutes each direction.
As the week progressed, Claire took more supplies: a blanket to rest on, a book, and her lunch with water to drink. She even started wearing her bathing suit under her shorts so that she could sunbathe on the shore. This made her feel like a rebel. The bathing suit was a lot like underwear.
When she walked the path approaching the lake, she began to recognize the sights, sounds, and also the smells. It was a clean fresh aroma that penetrated deep into her lungs. As the days passed, she soaked in the serenity of this secret haven and her strength and resolve returned. When Tony left for Europe, she felt as low as she had felt since her arrival—actually, in her life. She wanted out. She would have been willing to die to accomplish that goal if only the means had been present.
Now she was thankful that it wasn’t. When he returned he would be the same, but she would be different. He hurt her—not just physically but also emotionally—down to her core. He had humiliated and seemed to enjoy humiliating her routinely since she arrived. Making her view herself in those situations was agony. Previously, she tried to put away the memories to create a separation between her daily life and her daily duties. To some extent, she’d been successful. This compartmentalization had facilitated her survival. His appalling videos documenting his brutal treatment and merciless instructions exposed her to herself. It broke her.
The lake, nature, sunshine, and freedom rejuvenated her. She felt like the Six-Million Dollar Man: stronger, faster, and better. She would gain sustenance and strength from the memories of the crystal waves shining and flashing in the sunlight. He could say, do, or make her do anything, anywhere and her mind would be hearing the leaves rustle, the birds sing, and the waves lap at the shore. She knew it wouldn’t be easy but she also knew the routine. There would be breaks when he had to travel and hopefully be gone, far away for long periods of time. She would live for those breaks until the time came when her debt was paid and she could be the one to leave.
Claire asked Catherine, but she hadn’t heard the time of his arrival. It didn’t surprise her. It was part of his game, a test. He wanted to know if she read his note, if she would be prepared for his return. She also knew that on the day of his arrival she shouldn’t leave the immediate grounds. She planned to be ready when he arrived and she was.
Claire ate lunch in her suite and sat on the sofa reading a book, a crime novel except it was funny, the fifth in a series. She didn’t know for sure how many there were, but she enjoyed reading them. She painstakingly chose her attire: white capris, a black and white top that accentuated her figure, and black sandals with a shorter heel. Her hair had lightened and grown quite long since March. She had it half up and half down, with the ends curled. Her makeup was flawless. If he didn’t show up until later, she had another outfit for then. She planned to meet him head-on. The miserable wretched woman he left was gone.
The door opened without warning. Claire’s heart skipped a beat, but she controlled her breathing and remained still and relaxed as she looked up from her book. He walked in and greeted her, “Good afternoon, Claire.”
Slowly, she placed her bookmark in her book, laid the book on the end table, and stood. Her smile radiated as pleasant a welcome as she could muster. Her mask was not only on, but also intact. “Good afternoon, Anthony.” Their eyes met. “It is nice to have you home. How was your trip?”
She didn’t walk toward him, but she stood straight, tall, and defiant. He approached her, not touching her, yet standing close and watching for her reaction. She stood her ground, smiling, waiting for his reply. Asking for a verbal answer to her question was not a good idea, so she remained silent and refused to drop eye contact.
“My trip was long. I am pleased with your greeting. Does this mean your temper tantrum from before my trip reached its conclusion?” His body only inches from hers, she could smell his cologne and feared if she inhaled too deeply her chest would touch his.
“Yes, I believe it has. I apologize for my behavior. It was childish and unnecessary.”
He grinned, wondering if she was sincere or playing him. His tone and words tried to enlist her motivation. “As I recall, a good deal of your behavior was far from childish.” He paused, no reaction. “But my memory could be failing me, it has been a long trip. I know how we could find out.” Another pause, no reaction. “Or review?”
Claire didn’t react. She didn’t take his bait. Instead, she responded, “You are right, it was very adult. I would be glad to do whatever it is you tell me to do again. I believe I have a debt to repay, my goal is to make that happen as soon as possible, and that is the means to that end.”
He pulled her against him and looked down into her eyes. He saw a fire that had been dowsed with tears ten days ago. She smiled, said all the right things, but her eyes were fighting. He bent down and kissed her. It started slowly but soon became hard and forceful. She hesitated for only a split second and then responded with equal force. She didn’t back away. He hadn’t intended for this reunion to go this direction. He had expected someone different.
About six thirty he used his cell phone to call the kitchen and have dinner brought up to her suite. The flight had been long. By nine thirty he was sound asleep in her bed. She sat up and watched him. She still loathed him, but Claire felt she had won this battle. She stood strong and quieted the fury in his approach. She gave in without incidence. That made him less aggressive. The final result would be similar no matter the mode, but this way it happened without violence and without video replay. To Claire that was a victory. She read her book for a few hours before joining him in sleep.
The next morning when she awoke, he was gone. She knew the tedious schedule of her daily duties had resumed. She didn’t mope. Instead she headed to the exercise room and worked out, back to her suite and showered, then ate breakfast and learned of Tony’s location. Today he was at the office, not home. She sighed with relief. That meant she had until five to do whatever she wanted. Already ten, traveling to and from the lake was a three-and-a-half-hour journey. She would need to get up earlier on days she wanted to go there. Perhaps that would be something she did on days he was out of town. She would miss her lake, but Claire was determined she wasn’t going to risk losing her piece of paradise. She’d wait until a better time to go. Of course, that didn’t mean she couldn’t go into the woods for a walk. So she did. It still felt liberating to get away from the cameras.
That afternoon she spent at the pool. She returned to her suite and showered, ready for instructions by five. Catherine brought word; Mr. Rawlings would be home and they would dine in the dining room at seven. Claire didn’t need Catherine’s help with appropriate clothing, dining room meant formal. She knew how to follow the rules.
At six forty-five Claire went down to the sitting room and waited for dinner. A little after seven Tony joined her. “Good evening, Claire.”