She sits on the couch, trying to cover her pale nakedness with her hands and a strategically placed pillow. "Beautiful lady," – I say, smiling at he..., - "Mustafa like. What your name, beautiful lady?" Christine," – she says, her eyes darting around, probably looking for Jason coming back, but always returning to the bulge in my Speedo's. I look around, following one of her furtive glances, and see her skirt and blouse on the floor where Jason took them off her. I kick them away casually with my. I was miserable, my husband saw to that. He cut me off completely from my family and friends. He dictated who I saw and when I saw them. There were few places I was allowed to go, and fewer alone. I was told how to clean the house, cook our food, and it had to be perfect. He controlled every aspect of my life down to when I went to the bathroom and whether or not he was there to supervise. Soft whispered declarations of love turned to insults about what I looked like, how I behaved, what I wore. More

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