Cast a Dark Shadow

"Do you realize how long it''s been?" Dallas spoke, trying to keep her voice as unemotional as possible. Bart hated scenes. Dallas knew she should back off, drop the subject, and leave Bart alone. It was the only safe way to deal with him lately. Tonight was a final, desperate effort on her part. It was their wedding anniversary. If anything was left between them, she should be able to reach it on what was supposed to be a day of celebration. Early returns weren''t promising. Let''s...
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"Do you realize how long it''s been?" Dallas spoke, trying to keep her voice as unemotional as possible. Bart hated scenes. Dallas knew she should back off, drop the subject, and leave Bart alone. It was the only safe way to deal with him lately. Tonight was a final, desperate effort on her part. It was their wedding anniversary. If anything was left between them, she should be able to reach it on what was supposed to be a day of celebration. Early returns weren''t promising. Let''s face it, Dallas thought. Your carefully constructed web of pretense is fraying, and fraying fast, with a whole lot of help from your husband. Why can''t you admit it''s over and just take your losses and get out? Because I hate to give up and throw twenty years down the rabbit hole. At least without giving it one last shot. Bart didn''t answer Dallas, didn''t even acknowledge the question. He was staring past her, at a spot somewhere over and slightly to the right of her head. His moods had gotten increasingly dark and difficult lately, his patience with her nonexistent. As Dallas watched him lift the glass he held and drain its contents, she thought, He''s drinking way too much. Dallas looked away, feeling totally defeated. As she did, she heard Bart rattle the ice cubes in his glass. That was her cue to get him a refill. Let him get his own damned refill, she decided, with a rare burst of irritation and rebellion. He has feet. Tonight, as soon as she''d given him his anniversary gift, she knew she''d made a mistake. His face closed up, his jaw tensed, and he acted like she''d handed him a bomb he expected would go off at any minute. The gift still sat, unopened, on the table. At first, Dallas hoped it was because he forgot about the anniversary and didn''t have anything for her. But it was more than that. There was something different about Bart tonight, something Dallas couldn''t identify, something that intensified the uneasy feelings she''d had for the last six months. More and more, she felt like she was living with a stranger. "Doesn''t twenty years of marriage mean a thing to you, Bart?" Dallas asked. At last, Bart decided to acknowledge her presence. He let his gaze drop to her slender ankles and work its way up to her face. His hazel eyes were cold, and his mouth was set in a thin line. "I fail to see twenty years of marriage as an excuse for you to run around dressed like a cheap tramp, Dallas, " he said. "I''m not dressed like a tramp." Dallas wore a white lace teddy she bought especially for the occasion. It was about as successful as the fancy dinner she cooked and Bart barely touched. Another mistake, obviously, she decided. My whole life seems to be a mistake lately. She sighed. "I wanted you to make love to me. That''s all. Nothing else works. I thought this was worth a try." Bart''s silence and the unyielding intensity of his gaze made Dallas look away again. She stared past him, out the sliding glass patio doors, where a crescent moon floated on the horizon. It washed the night with pale light and made it look as cold and empty as Dallas felt. "I will make love to you when I want to, " Bart finally said. "Do you understand? And if I never want to again, that part of your life will be over. Whether you like it or not." Dallas swallowed hard, bit her lip, and fought back the tears of resignation and defeat that gathered on her lower lids. If there was anything her husband hated worse than emotional scenes, it was tears. "You are no different from any other tramp in the world, are you, Dallas? Always willing to get some poor slob to do what you want him to do. Then, when he does, you turn on him. You all turn on him." Bart''s words, and the vehemence behind them, dried Dallas''s tears up before they had a chance to spill over. What in God''s name is he talking about now? Dallas wondered. Not for the first time in her dealings with Bart lately had she tried to label uneasiness that crossed the line and became something very close to fear. "I don''t know what you mean, " Dallas said, purposely keeping her voice soothing and noncombative. "You''re my husband, it''s our anniversary, and I wanted us to make love. It''s that simple. It''s been over a year, Bart, " she finished softly. Bart stood up and leaned over Dallas, one hand on either arm of her chair. His position pinned her in place, yes, but it was the fanatical light in his eyes that held Dallas motionless. Forget the uneasy. She was definitely frightened now. "And it will be another year, or two, or three. It will be when I say, Dallas. Not a minute sooner. You have nothing to do with it. I control that part of your life." Bart straightened up but continued to stare at her. Dallas saw disgust and something much more dangerous in his expression. It made her wish, desperately, she could just disappear. If there are black holes in the universe, where are they when you really need them? she wondered. Why doesn''t one of them swallow me up? I shouldn''t have started this. I should have ignored the anniversary. Like he now obviously intended to do. I should have just packed up and left, without this last fawning attempt to salvage the last twenty years of my life. As Dallas shrank back against the chair, her fear growing with every new twist in the strange behavior Bart had exhibited lately, he brought his hands up even with her throat. Mesmerized, like a fly froze in a spider''s web, Dallas watched as they opened and closed convulsively, once, twice, three times. She got the distinct impression it took all the strength Bart had not to wrap them around her neck and strangle her. The fear closed in for real then and paralyzed Dallas. The house held its breath expectantly, a silent witness to sudden violence. Dallas''s whole body reacted. Her pulse raced wildly, and she could feel the adrenaline racing through her system. Just when she was sure Bart was going to reach for her and she would feel his strong hands squeezing her constricted throat until there was no life left in her trembling body, Bart realized what he was doing. With a great effort, he pulled himself back from some frightening abyss that Dallas could only imagine. Bart stood, immobile, menacing, and glared at Dallas for what felt like an eternity. At last, he gave her a look of unmistakable hatred, turned on his heel, and left the room. Dallas held her breath, afraid to even move, while she silently, fervently prayed he wouldn''t change his mind and come back. Thank God, she thought, when she heard him pick his keys up off the hall table. Moments later, the front door slammed with enough force to rattle every window in the house. Dallas heard Bart''s car start up and screech off into the Florida night. Slowly, with him gone, her fear subsided. There was no doubt left in her mind. Dallas barely escaped physical violence this time. And what about next time? she asked herself. Will you be so lucky? There won''t be a next time, she decided. There can''t be. Dallas got up, not at all surprised to find her knees were weak and shaky, and went into the bedroom. Her suitcases were stored at the back of her walk-in closet. She took them out and set them down on the carpeted floor then began to take her clothes off their padded hangers. She willed herself not to cry, not to think about the might-have-beens, the dreams, the hopes. Boo, the Great Dane she had rescued from the pound, was asleep on Dallas''s side of the king-size bed. He opened one eye, looked at her, and boofed. Even that soft noise was jarring in the silent house. "It''s over, Boo, " Dallas whispered. "There''s nothing to salvage. Nothing left. We have to get out of here while we still can." Dallas threw on some clothes then packed quickly, taking only the bare necessities, anxious to get away before Bart came back. Finished, she sat the bags by the garage door and hurried through the house to her study. She gathered up the tote bag containing the scrip