Stacey loved her village. She loved walking the children in their double ‘pram’ into town on sunny days. She loved browsing in the English shops, and having tea and cakes with the other officer’s wives.
She loved Philip, too. They had been married for almost ten years now, and she was proud of him and his career -- most of the time, that is.
In the last two or three years, however, a change had come over Philip. He was increasingly irritable, she noticed.
Little things began to bother him: the babies’ crying, dinner being late to the table.
In truth, he treated her with growing impatience, and after a while it seemed like she was always walking on eggshells. He spoke to her only rarely, and when he did his voice was edged with impatience, verging on contempt.
At the same time, his sexual demands seemed to ramp up significantly. At first, she responded, hoping that a few exotic sexual moves would satisfy him.
But these only seemed to heighten his desire for more sex, so much so that she struggled to contain her feeling of growing resentment. She kept her counsel, however, not wanting to exacerbate the situation.
It all came to a head when she miscarried their third child. Phil didn’t even leave her in peace for a month after the D&C; the minute he could, he was demanding that she give him sex. For the first time in their marriage, she told him no.
Stacey was a patient woman by nature, but she honestly didn’t know which way to turn when Philip’s biting sarcasm and little cruelties began to accelerate even more in the weeks after the miscarriage.
One day, she found herself sobbing in the office of the military chaplain, a young Polish priest assigned to the intelligence community.
“I-I can’t stand it any longer,” she told the priest. Her eyes were rubbed raw from crying, and she kept twisting a Kleenex in her hands.
He nodded soberly. He knew that Stacey was a cradle Catholic who had rediscovered her faith upon the birth of her children.
She was a daily communicant, normally quite cheerful, with an ironic sense of humor.
She told him everything then, and he nodded again. These military officers could sometimes be cold and unfeeling toward their wives, so absorbed were they in their responsibilities.
Perhaps she should consider a short vacation – a visit with her family?
Stacey considered the idea. Her parents and little brother were in Rome these days; she had flown there to greet them when Dyson had been released from prison, but had not returned since.
REGINA | 101