Athena's Story

Part 12: Faking it feels safe

The next day, Athena was sitting near the pool as George did his rigorous fifty laps. She was content lounging under the protection of an umbrella, sipping on lemonade. There was a lot to think about and with him here, she could relax a little better and wouldn't need to look over her shoulder all the time.

Athena just wanted to be able to forget everything. Forget him and everything he had ever said to her and made her do for him. She knew now, like she had then, that it was abuse. But she also knew that when someone thinks they're in love, they do stupid things and make excuses for the person who forces them to do stuff. She herself had learnt to accept cruel treatment and forgive the unforgivable.

Spending time at home with her family in New York and then more time with Dante had started to shake the hold he had had on her. They had all opened her eyes to the levels of mistreatment she had endured. Slowly the scales had started falling from her eyes, but the pain and fear were deeply ingrained. That couldn't be shaken off easily. Neither could some of the mannerisms she'd adopted for self preservation.

It hurt just to remember. She had been so stupid back then! She chastised herself now, as she often did, for letting him get away with everything he had done to her.

When George got out of the pool, she watched him for a moment and then she removed her sunglasses to ask him earnestly, "Do you think I'm a tease?"

Duvall hesitated, looking at her. "Where's that coming from?"

"Oh, nowhere." She looked away from that penetrating gaze. "Never mind. Don't answer that question."

"Okay," he said, wrapping a towel around his waist as he put his feet in flops. He started back towards the room and she jumped up to follow him.

Curiously she put a finger on a spot on his right shoulder blade. It was a scar and since she had never seen him with his shirt off, it was something she hadn't seen before and she wondered where he'd gotten it.

"What happened here?"

Duvall didn't stop walking. "Gunshot wound."

Her hand recoiled. "Oh my god!" Before she could think of her words, she asked, "Did it hurt?"

That stopped him and he started laughing.

She blushed. "Stupid question."

"Kind of," he agreed good-naturedly. He rubbed the top of her head and they continued walking. "It hurt like the devil."

"I can only imagine."

By the time they returned to Athena's apartment, management had delivered their croissants and fresh coffee.

"Love the service," George commented.

"It's great, isn't it?"

They decided to spend the entire day indoors, to let Walter believe they had better things to do than be outside all day. By this time, Duvall had told Athena that the police were sure beyond doubt that Walter was following them, based on the communication he had made with George the night before.

Athena kept herself busy with one of the books she had bought earlier that week and George read the papers.

Over the next few days, they kept a low profile, only stepping out when invited to a high profile event. For dinner one night, George took Athena to his uncle's place.

He had told her to dress casually so she donned a knee length, floral skirt, flat sandals and a coral blue cashmere cardigan which enhanced the odd color of her eyes. He put on white chino trousers, a black polo shirt and matching loafers.