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him out."
"It's not another woman," Emma managed.
"Another man?"
She struggled, sucking in the tears. Afraid if she let them fall too
freely she'd never be able to stop. "No. I have no idea if Drew's been
unfaithful, and I don't care."
"If it's not another woman, what did you fight about?"
"We didn't fight," Emma said wearily. "I didn't fight." She hadn't
known it would be so hard to say, so hard to admit. The words were like
a fist lodged in her throat, heated with shame. Taking deep breaths,
she wiped her eyes with the back of her hands. "Sitting here, I can
almost believe I imagined it all, that it wasn't as bad as I thought
while it all happened. He could be so sweet, Marianne, so considerate.
I remember how he'd bring me a rose in the morning sometimes. How he'd
sing-when it was just the two of us-how he'd sing as though I were the
only woman in the world. He said he loved me, that all he wanted was to
make me happy, to take care of me. And then I would do something-I
hardly know what-but something, and then he would ... He beats me."
"What?" If Emma had said that Drew sprouted wings and flew off the
terrace every afternoon, i' would have been easier to believe. "He hits
you?"
The disbelief didn', register; she was too deep inside herself
"Sometimes I can't even walk for days after. It's been worse lately-11
She stared at a pretty pastel print on the wall. "I think he might want
to kill me."
"Back up, Emma. Emma, look at me." When she caught her friend's face in
her hands, Marianne spoke slowly. "Are you telling me that Drew
physically abuses you?"
"Yes."
Slowly, carefully, Marianne let out a breath. Watching Emma's face,
trying to make sense of it all, she sat back on her heels. "Does he get
drunk, do drugs?"
"No. I've only seen him drunk once-on our wedding night. He
doesn't do drugs at all. He likes to be in control. Drew has to be in
control. I always seem to do something, something stupid to set him
off."
"Stop it." Enraged, Marianne sprang up. Her eyes were flooded as she
paced the room. "You've never done a stupid thing in your life. How
long has this been going on, Emma?"
"The first time was a couple of months after we moved uptown. It wasn't
so bad, he only hit me once that time. And he was so sorry after. He
cried."
"My heart breaks for him," Marianne muttered. She stalked to the door
to admit room service. "Here, don't worry about setting it up."
She signed the check, handed over the twenty, and got rid of him. First
things first, she decided, and ignoring the food, poured the Grand
Marnier.
"Drink," Marianne ordered. "I know you hate the stuff, but we both need
it."
Emma took two small sips and let the warmth course through her. "I don't