requesting.

“I don't know.” Her dithering was wasting the heat, but what could she say?

He seemed to sense her discomfort. “Tell the truth. Do you want me to be here, or do you want some privacy?”

She closed her eyes. “Privacy,” she more mouthed than said.

He nodded, a little crestfallen but neither angry nor surprised. “That's fine, I'll wait in the bedroom. You enjoy your bath. I'm so proud of you for saying what you want.” He kissed her gently and left her in peace.

Thank the Lord he's gone. At last, she could do what she needed. Stripping

off her borrowed chemise, she sank into the water. The salt stung on her cuts, but

it also soothed her bruises and knots and the dainty injury her husband had inflicted between her legs.

As the pain and tension faded, her body relaxed, and it was a powerful

relaxation the likes of which she could scarcely remember ever feeling before.

She began, in some small part of herself, to understand what safe meant. Safe.

Without warning the cry that had been threatening for the last several hours

breached her defenses and she sobbed. It felt marvelous to release it.

“Kat?” Christopher knocked on the door, “are you all right? Do you need

anything?”

Do I want his soothing?

No. I want to work through this alone. “No, thank you,” she called back in a wavery voice. “Nothing.”

“Let me know if you change your mind, you promise?”

“Yes.”

He left her alone. Finally. I don't know how much longer I could have held

on. With a relieved groan, she sank into the water until only her face remained above the surface and let herself cry. Giving herself over to the power of her raw

emotions, she allowed the overwhelming whirlwind of grief, fear, sorrow and confusion roll over her. It wasn't enough to fix her for good, but it was enough

for today. Long minutes she gave to the catharsis until she felt… washed clean.

I'm embarking on a new life with new opportunities. I can make myself intowhatever I want to be, learn new reactions and new habits.

The startling revelation brought a watery smile to her lips. For a decade she

had lived like an animal, reacting, hiding, trying to avoid being noticed. She had

not lived, merely survived as best she could, but that was no longer necessary.

I am not a mouse or a rabbit, I am a woman, and I have the potential tothink, to observe, and to choose my actions and behaviors. Self-awareness dawned like sunrise, bringing hope, a hope she had never expected. She could be

more than a frightened animal. I can be Katerina, whoever that is, Mrs.

Christopher Bennett…a whole new identity. She could tell her mother-in-law she didn't want a party, she could request something that suited her, or she could compromise. She could choose something uncomfortable to please others, but

she didn't have to in order to avoid danger.

Her meandering thoughts turned to the source of her newfound freedom;

Christopher. He had asked a little while ago for the intimacy of sharing a bath.

To avoid conflict, she had been inclined just to let him make the decision, but he

had begged her to be honest, and honestly, she had wanted to be alone. He wasn't angry. He was disappointed but acquiesced to my wishes. He listened to me! He

had listened in bed too, she remembered, taking her quickly to minimize the pain, just as she had asked.

Affection towards her husband stirred within her. She had been attracted to

him because he was handsome and soothing and represented safety. But

suddenly she liked him. I want his company because he's Christopher. He's safe

and kind and he draws me in ways I don't fully understand. These are goodthoughts, and I like them. I feel content.

Perhaps someday she would understand happy. For today, contentment

measured among the most pleasant things she had ever felt, like this soothing salted bath, like crying when she needed to, like the lovely pleasure she had felt

earlier today when she let Christopher touch her.

I should let him touch me again, she decided. He wants to, I'm sure of it. She also felt again the shy curiosity about the act. He said that once her soreness faded, she would enjoy him putting… that inside her. It's hard to imagine, she thought, it stung and burned so badly the first time. Perhaps now, since she was open, the discomfort would not recur.

She had been sore all evening, a lingering embarrassing reminder that she had taken all her clothes off and been naked with a man who had touched her intimate parts and then thrust himself inside her. But the ache was fading in the

warm water, and the man was her husband.

We pledged our bodies to each other, forsaking all others. That means I owe

him access to mine. The realization that he also owed her access to his made her smile as a confusion of images and sensations filled her mind; of eyes filled with

flattering desire, lips kissing her, arms embracing and supporting, fingers eliciting naughty pleasure from her unmentionable places. Heat coiled in her belly.

She sat up taller, her breasts breaking the surface of the water, the nipples hardening in the cool air. I liked it when he touched me there, and he liked to do it. She hesitantly stroked one bud. Nice, but not the same. And lower, am I ready to be touched there again? Her hand slid under the water, down her belly. The bruises hardly hurt anymore, but touching herself proved too daunting, and she