Mrs. Rawlings’s more recent hostess duties aided her efforts. She shrewdly mentioned the auction, both for donations and possible attendance, whenever possible. She found it interesting how Tony’s business associates were willing to participate in one or both when personally approached. The fact that they were in her home, eating her food, and receiving her attention didn’t hinder her efforts. The current president of the Red Cross of the Greater Quad Cities thanked Mrs. Rawlings and Mrs. Simmons profusely.
Many of Tony’s associates from out of town attended the event. Claire hadn’t realized when she invited them that this had an additional impact on the Quad Cities. These important people needed places to stay and food to eat while in Bettendorf. According to Courtney, the media estimated that their event reaped over a quarter of a million dollars windfall to the Quad Cities. Claire hadn’t seen the coverage. She didn’t like television, and any other form of communication was still forbidden.
As a matter of fact, since the Chicago Symposium Claire lost many of her newfound freedoms. She still saw e-mails, but only after responses had been sent. No longer a freedom, they were merely a blatant illustration of what was now prohibited. During the final preparations of the auction, it was undeniable that Claire and Courtney needed to communicate and see each other. However, contact and endeavors with others had dramatically decreased. Tony decided that Claire needed time to decide what was really important to her.
The night in Chicago was reminiscent of her first encounters at the estate. Tony was excessively domineering, controlling, and demanding. Even the sadistic, cruel sexual tendencies from before her accident reappeared. Once back at the apartment, Claire tried to reason with him. “Please think about what you are doing.” It was as if his black eyes couldn’t register her voice. She pleaded, “Tony, remember your promise. I am your wife. Think what you are asking me to do.”
“You are my wife. However, I am not asking.” Unaffected, his demands continued.
When she awoke the next morning, feeling the too familiar aches from a year before, she dreaded his presence. Lying silently, she listened for his breathing. Relieved, she heard the sound of his shower in the adjoining room. Slowly, she sat up and thought about her options. Up until seeing Simon, things had been progressing well. Even in Italy when she broke his rule, he responded with kindness, not cruelty. But as she listened to the running water Claire debated leaving him, the apartment, everything. She didn’t know how. Where could she possibly go that he couldn’t find her?
She fell back against the soft pillows and allowed herself a few tears. Momentarily, she had difficulty filling her lungs with a sufficient amount of air and remembered her nightmares. This wasn’t a dream, it was her reality. She didn’t want to see or talk to him. However, she recognized the helplessness that surged through her veins. Her only way forward was through the man in the next room. Slowly, she eased back the blankets, squared her shoulders, and walked toward the mirror. The steely determination that propelled her feet didn’t come from courage, more from a sense of powerlessness necessity. The reflection before her had been worse, it’d been much worse. Yet seeing the red and blue markings made her stomach twist. She reached for her robe and covered the evidence.
Minutes later he stepped into their bedroom. The man before her seemed completely ignorant of the previous night’s events. He casually kissed her cheek and said, “The shower is all yours.” She just stared. Who is he? He grinned. “I would have stayed longer if I knew you were awake.” Later that morning, he helped her prepare to leave Chicago and kindly discussed daily pleasantries.
The incident forced Claire to recognize that she’d deluded herself into believing the other Tony was gone. He wasn’t gone. In fact, he was incredibly close to the surface. That morning she had no idea with whom she was flying or even with whom she shared a home. Every night she would wait as her stomach twisted into knots, wondering who would walk through the doorway.
Claire expected the recent events to increase the frequency of her nightmares, surprisingly they diminished. Her theory: her consciousness now shared the stress that only her unconscious had endured.
After the repercussions and some passage of time, she tried to talk to Tony about Simon. He didn’t care or want to hear her perspective. His only notion remained: at a public event she had left his side, her husband, to spend time with her ex-lover. To Claire this was a ludicrous observation. Her interpretation went more like at a public event, to allow Tony the ability to be accessed by fans, she escorted Simon aside and discussed issues with him for a sliver of time. The dissimilar interpretations didn’t have common ground presently or in their future. The subject was closed.
As they rode home from Bettendorf, Claire wondered what Tony thought of the silent auction and what consequences she would endure now that her presence wasn’t required in a public venue. It wasn’t until they were almost home that Tony finally spoke, taking her from her thoughts. “Congratulations.”
“Thank you.”
“The auction was a complete success.”
“Thank you. I’m pleased. Courtney is happy. I wanted to make you happy too.”
“And now you don’t?”