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Husband suspects wife takes her leading role to serious.

He told her that she was a bride of God and as such, was there for his exclusive use.

"When he finished with her, he told her that she was required to come back the next evening for another session. Your mother didn't show up and for the most part, quit the church. When she became pregnant and she told people whom the father was, she was shunned. When she came to church, the good reverend pointed her out as an example of all that was going on with the world and called her a whore."

"In front of all those people?"

"In front of all those people." James pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Since then, she's been celibate and she was training you to be celibate, too. To stay away from the sins of the flesh and to not become a whore. When you made the decision to have sex, in her eyes, you became a whore." He paused for a long moment. "Either your mother is mentally ill or she just doesn't want anything to have to do with sex. Whatever she is, is not what you are, Beverly. You're not a whore. You're a lovely young woman who enjoys sex."

Beverly listened to his words, her mind swimming. Momma was raped. Just that revelation explained a lot about her mother. There were never any men at the house, only a few uncles that came by but didn't stay long. She had one lady friend, Mrs. Armstrong, that came by on a regular basis to have coffee and cake but other than that, Beverly was the only constant companion her mother had.

And she never got over the rape. She never arrived at a healthy place where sex was a good thing with someone who loved you. Maybe she thought that no one could love her because of the rape. Maybe her mother truly was sick. Something else popped into her mind. Her mother was sabotaging her weight issues on purpose, keeping her fat to keep her ugly and unwanted. She'd harp on her to lose weight, then shove a package of cookies or bag of potato chips into her hands. Why didn't I see that?

And then, sex. Beverly clearly remembered when her school had sent home information and a permission slip for the sex education portion of her health class. Arletta Johansson's first answer was a resounding NO. Beverly didn't need to know about sex. She wrote as much down on the permission slip and had Beverly take it back to school. Her health teacher, Mrs. Pinyon, gave her a sad look and called her mother later that day. Whatever she'd said changed her mother's mind and she was allowed to attend.

Beverly felt enlightened after the class and entrapped the rest of her life. Graduation and college brought no one. If she did meet a guy who happened to call, Arletta would somehow make sure that he never called again. Then she opened the shop with her friend Sarah and became a businesswoman and was able to escape the smothering confines of her mother's house. But she still ate, unable to escape the emotional confines.


She hadn't realized that she was crying again. "I'm okay, James."

"I still want you to come to Seattle with me."

"Still? After all this?"

"I've known about this for a week now, Bev. If anything, it's made me love you more."

"Love?" Her voice was small, wrapped around such a big word.

"I think so." He said softly, turning to face her and taking in the exotic slant of her eyes and the beauty that shimmered within. "It certainly feels like it."

"How do you know?"

"Because I've only felt it a few times." He leaned closer. "And it was never as strong as this."

Beverly closed her eyes and accepted his kiss, falling into the softness of his mouth and the tender caresses of his tongue against hers. She felt his hands sliding over her body, circling her nipples lightly and squeezing her buttocks, pressing her against his hardness. This is what love feels like.

As she gave herself over to James' lovemaking, her tears dried quickly and Beverly Johansson broke the bonds that tied her to her mother's grief and moved away from it forever.


The water was hot and smelled of roses.

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