My Body-His Marcello (22 page)

I might have
thrown ice water in his face. I watched the anger drain from Luke,
leaving abject sadness in its wake.

“
Pack
your things and get out,” he said in a quiet voice. “You can make
arrangements for Janice to retrieve the rest of your
things.”

“
No!”
I cried. “I take it back.”

“
There’s no taking it back. I never want to see you
again.”

“
You
can’t mean that. Luke, please, this all got out of control tonight.
Please don’t do this.” I felt panicked and nauseous. Blood was
still dripping out of my nose.

“
She’s
all yours,” Luke said to Marcello. Luke veered and lurched back
toward his office.

“
Luke,
noooooo ...” Ignoring the pain, I ran after him, tugging on
his sleeve, begging him to stop.

“
Please do something with
this
,” he said to Marcello,
looking down on me in disgust. Then he locked himself inside his
office.

I collapsed on
the floor and Janice rushed over to me. In that moment I knew what
death felt like. Not the imagined death of life ending but the
excruciating feeling when one realizes they’ve been murdered, the
life stolen from them. I was certain I would never move another
muscle, never draw another breath. I experienced total
disassociation. I floated in a world of my dreams and ceased to
exist. I could feel Janice beside me but had no idea where I
was.

Someone lifted me
up and carried me to a bed. I heard drawers and doors open but even
with my eyes open I didn’t see. I did not want to see.

I felt something
on my nose and I pushed it away.

“
Jane?
JANE! Look at me,” I heard.

I forced myself
to focus and saw Marcello before me.

“
Good,” he said. “You’ll stay with us.”

“
No,”
I said, managing to get it out.

“
Janice has packed some of your things and we can get you
whatever else you need.”

“
No.”

“
Do
you want me to call your mother or one of your friends?” Janice
said.

I shook my head
back and forth repeatedly, much longer than was necessary. “Just
leave me here.”

“
I
can’t do that,” Marcello said.

“
I
can’t stay with you.”

“
Yes,
you can,” Janice said.

“
No, I
can’t, ’cause then he’d never take me back.”

“
He
won’t take you back anyway,” Janice said.

“
You
don’t know that. You just think that because he wouldn’t take you
back.”

“
Honey, please just come with us and we can work out all the
details tomorrow,” she said.

“
NO!
He said I shouldn’t stay with another man or even talk to him
unless he ordered me to.”

“
He
did order you to,” Marcello said.

“
It’s
different now ... Just leave me here,” I said, looking up at him.
“I’ll try to talk to him.”

“
That
is definitely unwise. You need to give him space,” he
said.

“
Fine
I’ll pack up my computer and leave. You don’t need to wait on
me.”

“
We
can drive you somewhere,” Janice said.

“
I
don’t need a ride. If you want to do something for me then go find
my sleeping bag in the garage.”

They both left
the room and I hurriedly took the clothes Janice had collected and
pulled them out of the suitcase she had taken from the closet.
Cramming them into my backpack, I threw my toiletries on top. I
slipped on a t-shirt, sweatpants and a hoodie jacket. After tying
my sneakers I crossed to the other room to retrieve my computer.
This time I thought to unlock my writing room window before leaving
so I would have a way back in.

The backpack made
my shoulders scream out in agony. I welcomed the pain. If I could
still feel then I wasn’t dead yet. I needed to stay alive long
enough to convince Luke to take me back. That made no sense—even to
me—but I didn’t care. I just knew that I couldn’t go to
Marcello’s.

I snatched a
blanket from the closet and tied it around my waist. Taking my
cellphone and charger from the kitchen counter, I left before
Marcello and Janice could emerge from the garage. Searching for the
non-existent sleeping bag would keep them busy for a while. I
skulked out the front door, avoiding Luke’s guests out back, and
took the over-walk to the beach.

I staggered along
the sand to the lounge chair I had occupied the night of the
wedding and threw my things under it. Wrapping the blanket around
me, I fell asleep on the chair. The sheer emotional and physical
exhaustion put me in a deep slumber.

Vaguely aware of
being lifted, my grip on reality slipping, I dreamt Luke had come
to rescue me and carry me back home. When I awoke in the cold light
of day, the sun shined into a room I had never been in before. I
did, however, recognize the décor. I lay on a bed in Marcello’s
house. Janice must have told him where to find me on the lounge
chair.

In a panic that
Luke might find out I spent the night at Marcello’s, I plotted how
to sneak out. But as soon as I shifted to sit up I realized my body
would not, could not allow it.

I had no idea how
to go about getting Luke back; I just knew I had to convince him we
were still meant to be together. I know how sick that might sound,
especially after the terrible ordeals I had suffered under Luke’s
control. But I could not abide the thought of living without him,
and my fevered brain focused on those months of bliss when
everything had seemed so perfect.

Struggling
between doing something that could rescue my marriage and seeking
the oblivion of sleep, I realized my first priority was to use the
bathroom. I searched the medicine cabinet for anything that might
knock me out but only found ibuprofen and tampons. I swallowed
three pills and shuffled back into “my” room.

The décor still
had the Native American feel but the walls were a pale green and
furniture a mixture of light and dark woods. I imagined that the
last woman who occupied the space chose the paint color and the
wildly colorful art on the walls.

Feeling confined
by my clothes, I tugged off my sweatpants and t-shirt. I panicked
when I didn’t see any of my stuff, but then there it was—my
backpack and blanket—on the floor of the closet.

Moving gingerly,
I carefully arranged myself back up on the bed, pulling my backpack
with me.

I retrieved my
cellphone and charger and plugged it in next to the headboard. The
message button flashed and my heart skipped a beat. I went to the
list of voicemail calls, only to find that the message came from
Parker. I didn’t bother checking it.

I opened the
largest section of my backpack to retrieve my computer and check my
email but I had received nothing from Luke. I had to try and reach
out to him in any way I could.

To:
[email protected]

From:
[email protected]

Subject: I’m so,
so sorry …

Dear
Luke,

Please, come get
me and don’t be mad about where I am. I had planned to crash on the
beach and come back this morning but while I was sleeping (or
passed out or whatever I was last night after our fight), Marcello
carried me off the beach and took me to his house. I woke up in one
of his bedrooms this morning and I swear I don’t want to be here. I
have no interest in Marcello. I was just overwrought and didn’t
mean anything I said.

I’m so, so sorry
about what I said to Jack and all of it. I know it’s my fault and
I’ll do whatever it takes to make it up to you.

You know we are
meant to be together and that everything was perfect before the
party.

Please come for
me. I can’t breathe or eat or smile without you. You mean
everything to me; you mean more than life itself. I no longer exist
without you.

I need to see
you so I know we will be okay.

Loving and
missing you,

Jane

I had just hit
the send button when Janice peeked around the door.

“
You’re up. I expected you to still be asleep. How are you
doing?”

“
Peachy,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“
Your
face is barely swollen. How’s your back?”

“
I
don’t see why you could possibly care. You both must be
celebrating.”

“
Celebrating? Of course not. We’re worried for you,” she said,
stepping farther into the room.

“
Forgive me if I don’t believe you. Had you kept your fucking
mouth shut, had Marcello acted like the gentleman he pretends to
be, I would right now be recuperating with Luke. Instead, I’m stuck
here until I can travel on my own back to my life.”

“
I
understand you’re upset, but your life, as you knew it, no longer
exists.”

“
Please leave me alone and close the door behind you,” I said,
jabbing my finger toward the door.

“
Jane,
I know Luke and I know that he never looks back. Did he ever tell
you what happened with his father?”

I sat up; Janice
finally garnered my full attention. I longed for any information
about Luke.

“
When
Luke was just seventeen he had an opportunity to study art in
France. And although Luke participated in sports and academics, his
true passion was drawing and painting. His father thought those
pursuits were a waste of his intelligence. He didn’t show Luke the
acceptance letter until after the deadline had passed.

“
He
left his house that very day and never looked back. His parents
died many years later but as far as I know he never spoke to either
his father or mother again.”

“
Why
not his mom?” I wondered out loud.

“
He
assumed she knew about the letter as well and felt too scared to go
against his father’s wishes. He had lost all respect for
her.”

“
How
did he get into photography?”

Janice inched
closer to me and sat on the edge of the bed. “Some of this I have
pieced together so I’m not one hundred percent sure of the
accuracy. He had little money when he went out on his own, so he
modeled for a Japanese man in New York. He mentioned hitch-hiking
there in hopes of making his mark in the art world.”

“
That
explains the Japanese connection. Do you know how he met
Marcello?”

“
Marcello lived in New York with his grandparents years ago so
maybe they met there. You should ask him.”

“
Yeah,
Marcello mentioned that he grew up in New York. Do you know if the
photos Luke posed for were BDSM focused?”

“
He
never would answer that question directly, but I assume so. I
believe he got into photography because of the Japanese guy and
maybe the lifestyle as well—but you know how Luke is. Getting
answers from him is like prospecting for gold.” She took my hand
and said, “I’m truly sorry how everything turned out. I never
wanted you to experience the devastation I went through—am going
through. You know what I mean.”

I wanted to
believe her. Desperately needing someone to trust, to talk to about
our chosen lifestyle, I finally answered her original question. “My
shoulders and lower back hurt the most but I just took some Advil.
Really my body is the least of my worries.”

“
Tell
me what I can do to help.”

“
I’m
not sure there is help for me.” She knew better than anyone what I
was feeling. “I think I’ll go back to sleep now.”

She stroked my
hair before leaving and I could see that she still lived with the
sadness I was just beginning to understand.

Lying on my side
and snuggling a pillow between my legs, I wondered about Luke. How
could a seventeen-year-old boy make it alone in New York? Did he
have to sell himself to make ends meet? I couldn’t imagine the
forty-five-year-old Luke I knew doing anything of the sort at any
age. It made me nauseous to even consider it.

From what Janice
had shared, I determined he had a dominating, disapproving father
and a passive mother. Is that why he chooses submissive women? Or
captures them, as in my case? He must have learned Japanese from
the photographer. Maybe he traveled with him to Japan?

I wondered how
long Marcello and Luke had known each other and how they had met.
What did Marcello have over Luke? Luke said that there was nothing
but obviously Marcello had a huge influence over him.

Although I didn’t
want to share the same space with Marcello, I decided I would do
just that to get more information about Luke. I was convinced that
the more knowledge I had, the easier it would be to persuade him to
take me back.

I dozed off,
still processing all the new facts Janice had provided.

* * *

My own shrieking
woke me up. I sat up abruptly in bed, groaning as my back and
shoulders ached from the effort. My heart pounded in my chest and
my breathing felt erratic. Sweat covered my face and
neck.