Stanley Monologue

I held his neck with my free hand and slid my fingers from his cheek, down his Adam’s apple, to his chest. His hands lingered over my waist, and then locked themselves around me, pulling me tight, closing me in.

Could I have stopped at this point? Maybe. A very weak, stillborn maybe.

I was married, yes, but it wasn’t much of a marriage. Wesley locked himself in the old baby’s room night after night and couldn't care less about me and our son. Everything I did or said didn't seem to interest him: his usual expression was a frown of sour discontent. If there had once been love between us, it was long, long gone. Unsure of so many things about myself, about my life. I was only sure about one thing right now and that was I knew what I wanted. I wanted this man. Ever since I had been with Gabe, I felt attractive once again, safe and secure.

Loved.

Treasured.

He gathered me to him and I held to the protective circle of his arms, feeling the warmth of his body, and listened to the three special words he whispered in my ears. When was the last time Wesley had told me that he loved me? I couldn’t remember that far back. I knew

I knew I’d have to leave. I’d have to persuade Charlie to forget all about this and tell Wesley that we should move. But what reason could I give? That I missed my friends from the city? That I wanted to be closer to my parents? No, he would never believe that. My brain couldn't think of any more excuses. Maybe I could leave? Leave Wesley, start again somewhere else: no job, no home, no money? It was a terrifying thought. I had never been alone my whole life; I didn’t know how to do it and I certainly couldn't do it now. I would be too ashamed to ask for my parents’ help who had never liked my husband ever since they met him. So if I left Wesley, I would have nothing. I had never lived on my own, never lived on what I could earn, never lived without the say-so of someone else. The unknowingness was