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“You are a selfish and scheming woman, Anna. Charming as you might be you have no scruples. That’s what’s dangerous about you.”
Though I’ve felt this kind of rebuke from him before, I sense bitterness from him I didn’t plan on. Before, his lectures were like a game we played. But this is no game—as though I’ve truly offended him. There was none of this during the divorce. He could have laid into me a dozen times but he certainly held back. Feeling as though he’s pinned me to the wall, I attempt a counter attack, “Is Heinrich any different?”
He points a finger at me and rises from the pruning bench. “We’re not talking about Heinrich, we’re talking about you.” The glare in his black eyes alarms me. “If you really are the woman you say you are, you don’t need a husband, or a compassionate lover, or even me. You need a harness, a dog collar, and a leash, so you can crawl at some dom’s feet for a few months and forget that you are a person at all. You need to slave for a master who will show you no mercy. You need a sound paddling at dawn and dusk everyday, a good thrashing at noon—then you should be left in a closet the rest of the time.”
He walks around his conservatory, getting lost inside the melange of plants. There is a reckless, seething energy about him that I’ve seen only once before when he was furious with Makaila for disobeying him. As he slowly makes his way through his jungle, he finally emerges with his feelings more restrained and says, “Please excuse that outburst. It wasn’t planned.”
“But that is what you feel,” I reply.
“Oh, it is. Adultery of body or mind pisses me off.”
Through the entire divorce, no one ever put my actions in such a conventional light—took offense that I’d cheated on my husband. I thought about it, but no one else ever said a word, as though the infidelity didn’t really matter anymore. It mattered to me sometimes and even more now that I realize how much it matters to Bernard.
“I can’t defend myself,” I say.
“No, you can’t.”
“Is there hope here, or have you given up on me?”
“I should. Should make you just live this way, or send you to a man who might actually knock some sense of decency into you.”
“But you won’t?”
“I don’t know what I’ll do, Anna. I will consider your suggestion and get back to you. If anything happens at all, however, understand this—you don’t balk, you don’t disobey and you tell your lover everything.”
“What?” I can’t believe he means that.
“Are you serious about him?”
“Yes, I think so…”
“Then you tell him everything.”
“And if I wasn’t serious, I wouldn’t have to?”
“No. You’ll tell him regardless.”
“That’s impossible.”
“Then it’s impossible for me to help you.”
“No.” I’m in tears.
“Yes, Anna.” He lifts me to my feet with his hand, then runs that hand through my hair, staring at it as though he’s fascinated.
“You are harder than Heinrich.”
“I’m a better man,” he admits without shame. “And understand, if I’m inclined to do anything with you, I will tell your husband.”
“You’ll tell him? But he’s not my husband anymore.”
“But he is my friend.”
“What difference does that make, you take women all the time?”
“It matters to me because it would matter to him. The fact that you don’t like that is another strike against you.”
He’s being a bastard while he’s being kind. Though he walks me to the door affectionately holding me to his side, he lays down impossible ground rules, making it clear that he won’t budge an inch. There’s no way I can meet his demands and I realize it was stupid of me to come. He’ll be telling Heinrich and I’ll feel like a fool in front of my husband should I see him—though that’s something I certainly don’t plan on.
