Chapter Ten
Multiple Sexuality Disorder
I was living more than one life—two at the very least; it felt like a lot more than that.
On occasion Klaus shipped me gifts. More often he gave me shopping assignments. Before my wedding, he’d sent me a military surplus footlocker, mostly empty, except for a laptop computer and a cell phone.
“Clear lines of communication,” he’d said. “Yes?”
Slowly but steadily, the chest began to fill up; both before and during my marriage, I kept it, padlocked, under my bed.
“Your Hope Chest?” Darren had teased when he saw it for the first time. “Jewels and precious metals—your dowry? Help me pay off my vet school loans? The remains of previous boyfriends?”
I’d shrugged, smiled, raised my eyebrows, given no answer.
He never asked about it again.
I thought
