CHAPTER 9

The fun of university life was nothing but a distant memory for Mike. His determination to succeed had become a consuming passion that had enabled him to rationalize the change in his marriage. Sure, he and Barbara behaved reasonably and interacted with pleasant demeanors. But the physical component of the union had deteriorated until both were filled with a gnawing combination of stress and guilt that simmered beneath the surface of all their polite conversations. Barbara had continued to be helpful and supportive, but had completely stopped initiating sexual encounters. She continued to make love to Mike whenever he wanted, but her responses were disappointingly passive.

The change haunted Mike. Their mutually extemporaneous sex had been an appealing characteristic of their courtship. When he asked Barbara what had happened, she pleaded ignorance. She agreed that therapy was necessary, but procrastinated that step, hoping that everything would eventually resolve in their favor.

One night, after a particularly clinical session of lovemaking, Mike withdrew with a frown. He lowered his head until his lips barely touched her left ear. “It isn’t working, Barbara,” he whispered.

Barbara turned to face him. “What isn’t working?” she asked, her expression filled with righteous indignation.

“Us. I’m convinced you’ve been hiding something from me, something very important. Under the circumstances, I think you owe me an explanation.”

Barbara turned away and stared at the wall. “I can’t believe you would say that now,” she said with tear-filled eyes.

“When the hell am I supposed to say it?” Mike asked. “You just participated in one of the most important functions of a marriage, but participation is too strong a word. It’s like you weren’t even there, like I’m making love to a manikin. I can’t keep on this way, Barbara.”

“I guess, it’s because… there’s a part of my past that I haven’t told you about. I promised myself I never would, but now I think you should know… I had a baby,” she said, still staring at the wall, her words barely audible.

“What!”

Barbara wiped her eyes and again turned to face Mike, her expression showing deep pain. “I had a baby girl.”

“Who’s the father?” he asked. Certainly he was not delighted to hear that she had such a burdened past, but it was a relief that she had finally begun to remove some of the distance between them.

“That’s not important.”

“Then tell me what is.”

“He asked me to get an abortion when I told him I was pregnant. He said he wasn’t prepared for the responsibility of a child, or a marriage.”

Mike wiped a tear from her cheek. “What happened then?”

“At first I thought the relationship was more important than the child, so I agreed to have the abortion. But when the time came, I just couldn’t do it… I just couldn’t. It was impossible.”

“What happened to the child?”

“I gave her up for adoption,” Barbara whimpered, tears continuing to flow from her eyes. “It was the most painful thing I’ve ever done in my life, far more painful than having her.”

“Do you know where she is now?”

Barbara covered her eyes and shook her head.

“Where’s the father?”

“Alive and well… He’s a very successful stock broker.”

“Have you ever seen him or talked to him since you met me?”

“No,” she replied, avoiding eye contact.

Mike reached for Barbara’s hand. “Look at me,” he demanded, and then waited until she did. “You never stopped loving him, did you?” he asked, staring into her eyes, probing for a response.

“How can you say that?”

“Because I need to know. Did you ever stop loving him?”

Barbara turned and buried her face in her pillow. “Of course I did!” she whimpered.