he could sit beside her on the long, antique couch. As soon as Marcello sat down, he took her hand in a strong grip meant for comfort, not violence.
“I wasn’t, well, innocent when Daniel and I first started dating,” she said with a becoming blush. “I was almost twenty when we met and nearly twenty-five when we married. I made him wait until the wedding night. I understand why now, but back then I thought I was being romantic.”
“You were afraid of him.”
She nodded. “I didn’t know that at the time. I thought I was just afraid of the physical intimacy with someone like him who was larger and stronger than me. Daniel was, he was just so much more than the other men I’d known.”
She pulled a tissue from a nearby box with her free hand, as though preparing herself. “It was on our wedding night that he hit me the first time. I couldn’t do anything right. He was upset I wasn’t a virgin, though I’d told him long before the wedding.”
She was rubbing the tissue between her fingers. Her eyes were still dry. “He apologized after. Always after. I thought it was my fault. It went on like that for about five years. He wouldn’t hit me every day. Sometimes the abuse was more verbal than physical.”
“What changed?” he asked in a gruff voice. It was taking all of his energy to keep calm and hold his own rage at bay; his rage couldn’t help her now.
“My father did. My mother had passed away when I was little, but my father passed five years into our marriage. He left everything to me, you see, and Daniel didn’t care for that.”
“Did your father know what was happening to you?”
“I think he suspected, but it was easy to hide it in those early years. After the reading of my father’s will, Daniel realized he wouldn’t get our family’s lands. The will ensured it would only go to me and my children, never to him.” His body lurched as he guessed what came next.
“He became more physical after that. Everyday. Anytime. No matter what I did. When I never became pregnant, it only made things worse.”
His free hand shifted to her back, where he rubbed small circles at the base of her spine, hoping it brought her comfort.
She sniffed and brought the tissue to her nose. “What he didn’t know what that I had gotten pregnant once. It happened just before he died.”
“Grace.”
“I lost the baby. He was drunk and angry, and pushed me. If I hadn’t been near some stairs, we might have made it,” she said as her tissue-filled hand pressed briefly to her stomach. “We might have made it.”
“I’m so sorry, Grace.”
“So was I, though I believe now it was for the best. What kind of life would it have been for a child? I wasn’t strong enough to leave, to protect myself, so how could I have been strong enough to protect my baby? I wasn’t strong enough, in the end.”
“You can’t think like that.”
“It’s all I think about,” she said as she stood up and began to pace. “I was so weak. I don’t know if I would have ever left him. I don’t know.”
“I know,” he said as he stood and stopped in front of her. “You would have left him, Grace. You would have.”
“I don’t know. How can you?”
“I know that you are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. You can’t tell me you never thought about it, especially after the baby died.”
“You’re right. I did think about it. But my father was dead. There was no place for me to go, no one to ask for help. I know now those are just excuses.”
“They’re not excuses. You’d been brainwashed for years but you still knew what he did was wrong. You would have left, Grace. You have to believe that about yourself.”
She didn’t say anything, but the wretched look on her face forced him to pull her tight against him. Tentatively, her hands wound around him as well. They stood like that, just holding each
“I wasn’t, well, innocent when Daniel and I first started dating,” she said with a becoming blush. “I was almost twenty when we met and nearly twenty-five when we married. I made him wait until the wedding night. I understand why now, but back then I thought I was being romantic.”
“You were afraid of him.”
She nodded. “I didn’t know that at the time. I thought I was just afraid of the physical intimacy with someone like him who was larger and stronger than me. Daniel was, he was just so much more than the other men I’d known.”
She pulled a tissue from a nearby box with her free hand, as though preparing herself. “It was on our wedding night that he hit me the first time. I couldn’t do anything right. He was upset I wasn’t a virgin, though I’d told him long before the wedding.”
She was rubbing the tissue between her fingers. Her eyes were still dry. “He apologized after. Always after. I thought it was my fault. It went on like that for about five years. He wouldn’t hit me every day. Sometimes the abuse was more verbal than physical.”
“What changed?” he asked in a gruff voice. It was taking all of his energy to keep calm and hold his own rage at bay; his rage couldn’t help her now.
“My father did. My mother had passed away when I was little, but my father passed five years into our marriage. He left everything to me, you see, and Daniel didn’t care for that.”
“Did your father know what was happening to you?”
“I think he suspected, but it was easy to hide it in those early years. After the reading of my father’s will, Daniel realized he wouldn’t get our family’s lands. The will ensured it would only go to me and my children, never to him.” His body lurched as he guessed what came next.
“He became more physical after that. Everyday. Anytime. No matter what I did. When I never became pregnant, it only made things worse.”
His free hand shifted to her back, where he rubbed small circles at the base of her spine, hoping it brought her comfort.
She sniffed and brought the tissue to her nose. “What he didn’t know what that I had gotten pregnant once. It happened just before he died.”
“Grace.”
“I lost the baby. He was drunk and angry, and pushed me. If I hadn’t been near some stairs, we might have made it,” she said as her tissue-filled hand pressed briefly to her stomach. “We might have made it.”
“I’m so sorry, Grace.”
“So was I, though I believe now it was for the best. What kind of life would it have been for a child? I wasn’t strong enough to leave, to protect myself, so how could I have been strong enough to protect my baby? I wasn’t strong enough, in the end.”
“You can’t think like that.”
“It’s all I think about,” she said as she stood up and began to pace. “I was so weak. I don’t know if I would have ever left him. I don’t know.”
“I know,” he said as he stood and stopped in front of her. “You would have left him, Grace. You would have.”
“I don’t know. How can you?”
“I know that you are one of the strongest people I’ve ever met. You can’t tell me you never thought about it, especially after the baby died.”
“You’re right. I did think about it. But my father was dead. There was no place for me to go, no one to ask for help. I know now those are just excuses.”
“They’re not excuses. You’d been brainwashed for years but you still knew what he did was wrong. You would have left, Grace. You have to believe that about yourself.”
She didn’t say anything, but the wretched look on her face forced him to pull her tight against him. Tentatively, her hands wound around him as well. They stood like that, just holding each
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