and I was the outsider, living under his name.
"Why does it matter so much," she asked Madeline rhetorically, "that your husband is sleeping with another woman? I wondered then and I wonder now. He slept with other women before you met him, and you know he did, and that doesn't bother you. I guess because she's taking away something that is yours now, belongs to you. Before that, he was nobody's, it hurt nobody. And there's so much more than just the physical that you're being robbed of. The intimate, confidential things that are said at those times, and not at any other time. She's the recipient of them now, not you. The plans that are made at those times, the innermost thoughts that are revealed, the love names and love words that are spoken, all of them go to her now, not to you.
"You just stand there. A door has closed between you now. He's on one side, you're on the other. You can't get through. Not all the keys, not all the pounding with your hands, not all the hammers, not all the axes, can make it open or break it open.
"So what do you do? I'll tell you what you do. You live with it. Live with it as best you can. A few of us do away with ourselves. Not most of us, though. That's for high-strung young girls that are just beginning the game, have no inner resources yet to fall back on."
"Then one day he comes to you about it. -He- comes to you, you don't go to him.
"One day he comes to you. One night, rather. You're lying there awake, with the lights out. You're always lying awake with the lights out. He lies there, and he thinks. You lie there, and you think. But the two chains of thought don't mesh anymore like they used to.
"He says quietly, 'Dell, are you awake?'
"You say just as quietly, 'I'm awake, Vick.'
"I want to talk to you.'
"Your heart starts going like the sweep hand of a watch. This is it. At last. Finally. Here it is.
"The thing is,' he says, 'I don't know where to start.'
"What do you say to that? You don't say anything at all. You just lie there and let him work it out for himself. Half hoping he'll forget the whole thing.
"But he doesn't.
"He says, 'Dell, we've had some good times. Haven't we?'
"You don't answer. It's not the sort of question that requires an answer.
"But something's changed,' he goes on. 'I don't know how to explain it. I'm not saying it's your fault. It's not your fault. If it's anybody's fault, it's my fault. But I don't know that anybody's ever at fault when this kind of thing happens. I don't think people have much choice. I think things happen and people can only go along with them.'
"Get to the point, you want to shout. Put a lid on your dimestore philosophy and get to the point. But instead you just lie there and wait for him to go on.
"'Dell, I can't live here anymore.'
"'Why not?'
"'Because we used to have something,' he says, 'and now it's gone.'
"'Not for me it isn't,' you say, hating yourself for saying it, for needing to say it. 'For me it's still the same.'
"'Dell, I'm going to move out.'
"'When?'
"'Now, if you want.'
"'That's crazy,' you say. 'It's the middle of the night. You don't want to leave now.'
"'Well, if you're sure you don't mind--'
"'Of course I don't mind.'
"'First thing in the morning, then.'
"So he takes off his clothes and comes to bed. And he lies on his side of the bed and you lie on your side, and you wish you could just fall asleep but of course you can't. And you wish you could stay on your own side of the bed but you can't do that either.
"So you curl up beside him. He can't sleep either, and you know what to do, how to touch him, and you get the response you want. He's unwilling at first. As if he's cheating her by being with you. But you know what you're doing and he can't help himself.
"And while it's going on, all you can think is that it's the last time, the last time.
"Afterward, he falls asleep. You try to sleep, and you can't, and after a while you give up trying. You get up and walk around the room, and then
"Why does it matter so much," she asked Madeline rhetorically, "that your husband is sleeping with another woman? I wondered then and I wonder now. He slept with other women before you met him, and you know he did, and that doesn't bother you. I guess because she's taking away something that is yours now, belongs to you. Before that, he was nobody's, it hurt nobody. And there's so much more than just the physical that you're being robbed of. The intimate, confidential things that are said at those times, and not at any other time. She's the recipient of them now, not you. The plans that are made at those times, the innermost thoughts that are revealed, the love names and love words that are spoken, all of them go to her now, not to you.
"You just stand there. A door has closed between you now. He's on one side, you're on the other. You can't get through. Not all the keys, not all the pounding with your hands, not all the hammers, not all the axes, can make it open or break it open.
"So what do you do? I'll tell you what you do. You live with it. Live with it as best you can. A few of us do away with ourselves. Not most of us, though. That's for high-strung young girls that are just beginning the game, have no inner resources yet to fall back on."
"Then one day he comes to you about it. -He- comes to you, you don't go to him.
"One day he comes to you. One night, rather. You're lying there awake, with the lights out. You're always lying awake with the lights out. He lies there, and he thinks. You lie there, and you think. But the two chains of thought don't mesh anymore like they used to.
"He says quietly, 'Dell, are you awake?'
"You say just as quietly, 'I'm awake, Vick.'
"I want to talk to you.'
"Your heart starts going like the sweep hand of a watch. This is it. At last. Finally. Here it is.
"The thing is,' he says, 'I don't know where to start.'
"What do you say to that? You don't say anything at all. You just lie there and let him work it out for himself. Half hoping he'll forget the whole thing.
"But he doesn't.
"He says, 'Dell, we've had some good times. Haven't we?'
"You don't answer. It's not the sort of question that requires an answer.
"But something's changed,' he goes on. 'I don't know how to explain it. I'm not saying it's your fault. It's not your fault. If it's anybody's fault, it's my fault. But I don't know that anybody's ever at fault when this kind of thing happens. I don't think people have much choice. I think things happen and people can only go along with them.'
"Get to the point, you want to shout. Put a lid on your dimestore philosophy and get to the point. But instead you just lie there and wait for him to go on.
"'Dell, I can't live here anymore.'
"'Why not?'
"'Because we used to have something,' he says, 'and now it's gone.'
"'Not for me it isn't,' you say, hating yourself for saying it, for needing to say it. 'For me it's still the same.'
"'Dell, I'm going to move out.'
"'When?'
"'Now, if you want.'
"'That's crazy,' you say. 'It's the middle of the night. You don't want to leave now.'
"'Well, if you're sure you don't mind--'
"'Of course I don't mind.'
"'First thing in the morning, then.'
"So he takes off his clothes and comes to bed. And he lies on his side of the bed and you lie on your side, and you wish you could just fall asleep but of course you can't. And you wish you could stay on your own side of the bed but you can't do that either.
"So you curl up beside him. He can't sleep either, and you know what to do, how to touch him, and you get the response you want. He's unwilling at first. As if he's cheating her by being with you. But you know what you're doing and he can't help himself.
"And while it's going on, all you can think is that it's the last time, the last time.
"Afterward, he falls asleep. You try to sleep, and you can't, and after a while you give up trying. You get up and walk around the room, and then
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