had a permanent suite at the Pitt St. Westin for such cases,
but usually he was the one leaving first. He would disappear for a few days,
and by then, she would be worried sick, unable to sleep until he ’ d return home, until he touched her and
told her he still loved her, in spite of her resentment over who he was
becoming.
Within
four months of campaigning, arguments over his political and strategic choices
increased to a daily occurrence.
Her
emotional dependency fuelling his need to somehow meet her approval, he was
still an attentive lover, reassuring her that she still owned that part of him,
professing he was still her Ethan.
Soon,
their only form of communication, the only one that still materialized their
marital bond, was sex. He would do anything to please her in that department,
and she lived for the moments he would touch her, reassuring her she hadn ’ t forgone the life she was destined to
live to end up unemployed on the other side of the planet, friendless, and in a
loveless marriage. Her emotional well-being and her sanity depended on them.
She
was slowly but surely losing herself.
Their
physical need of each other had been intense from the start, but when it had
been passionate and yet controlled since they had met, things were changing
between them, and before long, their physical interaction became one sided.
Ethan being the one initiating any sex, his dominant streak would be unbridled,
selfish, something it had never been before; her reactions to her husband
started to shift.
Six
months into the campaign, she no longer recognized the man she was married to.
Her husband, her everything, had turned into a ruthless politician whom she
didn ’ t
care for.
Their
sex life reached a breaking point when her lover followed the same path, and a
stranger emerged in their bed in lieu of her caring husband. He no longer
concerned himself with her pleasure but only his. When the simple sentence “ Spread your legs, ” whispered against her ear used to create
immediate heat and moisture, it, now, only elicited fear as to what would
happen if she refused. Yet, her body was still his, as he liked to cruelly, yet
tenderly, remind her when she would eventually moan under his touch and beg him
to make her come.
Something
broke in her, and she started to close herself off to him.
Their
daily arguments ceased.
It
was September 2002, another 4 months before the election; their sexual
interaction became minimal. Her body still reacted to his touch but her spirit
no longer was there and Ethan noticed immediately. He tried to be tender,
cajoling, and submissive even, but he could see it in her eyes, she no longer
respected him. Soon, he did not dare touch her anymore.
She
was losing weight and was barely able to sleep, her appearance was transforming
for the worse. She started to isolate herself from the few intimate acquaintances
she had made since the first year she had been in Sydney.
Soon,
she was in an emotional and physical castle of loneliness.
She
figured, if no one saw her, then it wasn't real. Her life was not falling
apart.
She
had tried to keep up the pretence of the perfect life, but no longer cared; she
was dying inside.
Her
only reprieve was the decision to start her PhD thesis. Working had always been
her salvation. So, she got a subscription to the law library, renewed the one
for Lawyers ’ Weekly, and started to study and write every time she was feeling distressed,
which was most of the time. She became a recluse, stayed at home, reading and
writing, barely noticing her husband when he was there and showed no interest
in his public life. She anything but simply disappeared from the Sydney social
scene, refused any public appearances, and by the end of the year 2002, she was
simply a phantom woman.
They
spent the Christmas holidays as they did the year. Together in a five stars
resort in Bora-Bora, but alone, unable to let go of their own resentment to
admit and face the state of
but usually he was the one leaving first. He would disappear for a few days,
and by then, she would be worried sick, unable to sleep until he ’ d return home, until he touched her and
told her he still loved her, in spite of her resentment over who he was
becoming.
Within
four months of campaigning, arguments over his political and strategic choices
increased to a daily occurrence.
Her
emotional dependency fuelling his need to somehow meet her approval, he was
still an attentive lover, reassuring her that she still owned that part of him,
professing he was still her Ethan.
Soon,
their only form of communication, the only one that still materialized their
marital bond, was sex. He would do anything to please her in that department,
and she lived for the moments he would touch her, reassuring her she hadn ’ t forgone the life she was destined to
live to end up unemployed on the other side of the planet, friendless, and in a
loveless marriage. Her emotional well-being and her sanity depended on them.
She
was slowly but surely losing herself.
Their
physical need of each other had been intense from the start, but when it had
been passionate and yet controlled since they had met, things were changing
between them, and before long, their physical interaction became one sided.
Ethan being the one initiating any sex, his dominant streak would be unbridled,
selfish, something it had never been before; her reactions to her husband
started to shift.
Six
months into the campaign, she no longer recognized the man she was married to.
Her husband, her everything, had turned into a ruthless politician whom she
didn ’ t
care for.
Their
sex life reached a breaking point when her lover followed the same path, and a
stranger emerged in their bed in lieu of her caring husband. He no longer
concerned himself with her pleasure but only his. When the simple sentence “ Spread your legs, ” whispered against her ear used to create
immediate heat and moisture, it, now, only elicited fear as to what would
happen if she refused. Yet, her body was still his, as he liked to cruelly, yet
tenderly, remind her when she would eventually moan under his touch and beg him
to make her come.
Something
broke in her, and she started to close herself off to him.
Their
daily arguments ceased.
It
was September 2002, another 4 months before the election; their sexual
interaction became minimal. Her body still reacted to his touch but her spirit
no longer was there and Ethan noticed immediately. He tried to be tender,
cajoling, and submissive even, but he could see it in her eyes, she no longer
respected him. Soon, he did not dare touch her anymore.
She
was losing weight and was barely able to sleep, her appearance was transforming
for the worse. She started to isolate herself from the few intimate acquaintances
she had made since the first year she had been in Sydney.
Soon,
she was in an emotional and physical castle of loneliness.
She
figured, if no one saw her, then it wasn't real. Her life was not falling
apart.
She
had tried to keep up the pretence of the perfect life, but no longer cared; she
was dying inside.
Her
only reprieve was the decision to start her PhD thesis. Working had always been
her salvation. So, she got a subscription to the law library, renewed the one
for Lawyers ’ Weekly, and started to study and write every time she was feeling distressed,
which was most of the time. She became a recluse, stayed at home, reading and
writing, barely noticing her husband when he was there and showed no interest
in his public life. She anything but simply disappeared from the Sydney social
scene, refused any public appearances, and by the end of the year 2002, she was
simply a phantom woman.
They
spent the Christmas holidays as they did the year. Together in a five stars
resort in Bora-Bora, but alone, unable to let go of their own resentment to
admit and face the state of
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