No matter how sweetly and understandingly Caroline asks me to calm down, I can’t. My impotence, rage, disappointment, and sadness are so overwhelming that I can’t stop crying in her arms. I do it silently, gasping so as not to scream, so as not to raise the sound of my weeping and scare my son or even wake my mother.
Between gasps, I told her what happened; his jealous fits, his kisses, and then his last words. Still standing in the same place, I whispered everything to her, and now we’re in the kitchen, where she’s offering me a glass of water, asking me to stop feeling sorry for myself. She went to see if Chris was asleep and came back here telling me that he’s sound asleep in the middle of my bed. She tucked him in, turned off the light, and closed the door so he wouldn’t hear my cryin
