“She does love you. Perhaps too much.”

Simon’s voice still carried the same self-confidence that Steven
remembered from the only other time he had heard it. His thumb hovered
over the “End” button, an instant away from silencing him. Instead, he
pulled the car to the side of the road, unable to look away from
Elyse’s name staring back at him from the tiny glowing screen.

“How did you get her cell?” Steven asked, after a moment’s pause. He
was determined not to let the defeat show in his own voice, but doubted
that Simon would be fooled.

“There’s no shame in fleeing from a blow to your very heart, a blow
that may keep one from returning to fight another day.”

“Arrogant fuck!” Steven shouted into the tiny phone. His hand closed
around it, now so tightly it dug into his palm like a weapon sent not
to kill, but to merely torture him.

“Arrogant, Steven? Do you see this as arrogance? Is asking a husband to
rescue his loving wife arrogance? Is warning her husband that her very
life depend on his actions arrogant?”

“What have you done to her?” Steven shouted again, now shaking
violently with both anger and fear.

“Have you’ve ever taken her for granted, ever disappointed her, Steven?
Think about those times, every one, however frivolous or short-lived.
No doubt at least a few of those times were taken to heart more deeply
than you imagined. But you know that, don’t you, Steven? Inside, you’re
afraid to own them, afraid to count them, afraid they might justify her
surrender to another man. Don’t disappoint her this time, Steven. It
may be your last chance.”

The phone went silent. Elyse’s name vanished from the screen, the
connection severed. At that instant, Steven felt the delicate thread
connecting them stretched to near breaking. Would he hold tight while
Elyse dangled from the opposite end, or release her, letting her fall
helplessly, even perhaps willingly, into Simon’s hands?

A light rain pelted the windshield, and the darkened streets became
slick, black mirrors, each abstract reflection suggesting the existence
of some unseen world beneath the black asphalt. A sudden gust of wind
heaved an overhanging branch toward him, then away, it’s leaves waving
the way to his new destination. Steven turned the car around and drove
back into the night.

Steven retraced the route to Simon’s estate not by effort of memory as
before, but by sheer determination, as if guided by the programmed
instructions of a hidden subroutine triggered by something he chose not
to understand or question. The mist on his windshield turned to a wall
of water bursting from the night sky. Flickers of lightening in the
distance now found him, the stabbing electric explosions of light and
thunder following him as he drove. There was a time when he might have
thought of the weather as a horrific monster, some bizarre extension of
Simon, intntionally impeding his way to save his wife. But Steven drove
on, unaffected, untouched by demons he had feared for so long.

He found the entrance easily, turning sharply into the wide space in
the dark hedges that hid the property from sight. The drive swept to
the left, still lined by ten-foot hedges, concealing any trace of the
inner grounds from the street. Steven stopped the car before the huge
iron gate, the headlights suddenly revealing his worst fears.

Elyse hung from the gate, her arms outspread, her wrists tied to the
heavy bars. She was naked, her alabaster skin glowing against the black
night. Her head hung forward, her dark hair a solid, drenched curtain
that hid her face from him. Steven stared, fixed to the steering wheel,
searching desperately for a hint of life, one breath that might give
him the strength to escape the suffocating fear that had again become
an unwelcome passenger within the car. A sudden blue-white burst of
light turned the night to day for a split second, accompanied by an
immediate deafening crash of thunder. Steven’s hand rose to shield his
eyes to the blinding light, shuddering as the thunder rocked the car.
Then, focusing once more on Elyse’s glistening ivory body, he noticed
an almost imperceptible rise and fall of her breasts, a shallow breath
that became a ray of hope as the raindrops fell, one by one, from her
small red nipples.

Steven bolted from the car and ran to her. He lifted her head and found
her eyes open, staring back at him, as wide and full of life as he had
ever remembered. “Steven,” she whispered. ‘Steven…” She smiled at him
– not the weak, trembling smile he might have expected, but a full,
luscious one, with open lips and dazzling teeth. Startled for a second,
he moved away an inch, then went to work untying the bonds that held
her to the gate. To his surprise, they were made of soft, hollow,
velvet cord, and came undone easily.

Elyse fell into his arms, her soaked body melting into him, wetting his
clothes until he felt naked against her. She reached up and pulled his
mouth to hers, kissing him fiercely, ravaging his mouth with her
tongue. Steven felt her hand snake past his belt, fighting to find
his cock, her body now writhing against him. She began to moan into his
mouth as they kissed, crushing her body against his, desperate in her
sudden heat. Atop the tall pilaster beside the gate, the tiny red light
of the camera winked on and the glass eye rotated silently toward them.

Suddenly, Steven broke their kiss and held her at arms length.

“What is this, Elyse? Some kind if trick? What is it with you? Do you
need him that much? That you pretend I’m him, even after he throws you
out? What’s wrong with you? What do you want, Elyse? You have to tell
me! You have to decide! You have to tell me what you fucking want,
Elyse!!!”

As Steven spat the words at her, he pushed her away and she fell
backwards, landing in the soft wet grass beside the gate. Rising up on
her elbows, she pulled her knees up, spread her legs, and grinned at
Steven with the same wanton confidence Simon had shown her during their
first meeting.

Steven stared, no longer able to cope rationally with the invading
threads Simon had woven into their marriage, into Elyse, and even into
himself. He wanted to unravel everything, to return their life to the
past, to the ordinary, to make Elyse the wife she was before Simon’s
meddling. Anger welled up inside him. ‘Damn him! Damn her! Damn me!’

“So, is this what you want?” He raged at her, stripping of his wet
clothes, tearing at them as though he was tearing at his own skin. “To
be fucked? Like an animal? Like a fucking whore?”

Elyse spread her legs wider, still grinning, quietly inviting his
threats. Steven went to her, hitting the ground hard with both knees,
landing between her legs. He took her wrists and pulled them roughly
over her head, waiting for her to come to her senses, to beg him to
stop. Elyse closed her eyes and moaned.

“If you want to be fucked like a whore, I’ll fuck you like whore! Is
that how he does it? Is this how he fucks you, Elyse?”

Steven plunged into her, forcing her to take the entire length of him
at once. Her body shook as he slammed into her again and again, taking
her as roughly as he could, imagining how Simon might have poisoned her
against him. But with each stroke of fury came satisfaction, and then
excitement. All fear and uncertainty came boiling out of him, and with
it, filling the space they occupied, came a feral sexual appetite fired
by a bewildering new strength.

Then, as their eyes met once more, Steven slowed his pace, moving
inside her as he once did in the comfort and safety of their own bed.
Her grin faded, and he recognized the familiar soft features of the
woman that loved him.

“This is what I want, Steven. I want this, with you, not with him. It’s
what you want too, isn’t it?”

Steven kissed her, softly at first, then harder, biting her lip,
feasting on her neck, as his pace returned to its former fury. Elyse
laid her head back on the wet grass and closed her eyes, feeling the
slowing raindrops dance against her face. She spared him nothing. Each
moan and whimper was only for Steven now, and she knew he understood
that.

“Yes – Steven. This – is what – I want. It’s – what I’ve – always –
wanted.”

High above them, the camera turned slowly and silently away, the tiny
red light winked out, and the glass eye went still, its watch given up
not with discretion for modesty, but with a sense of satisfying
completion. And below, two new lives were born in the first rain of
spring.