“You confronted him?” asked Sullivan.
“Not immediately. Eventually, yes. I kept investigating, saw the money come and go, saw the extent of the debt and then the windfall. He was living on the edge.Wewere living on the edge. I didn’t understand how he could tolerate the uncertainty. I surely couldn’t once I knew what was going on. I did some reading about gambling addiction and realized that Jay didn’t think about losing the way I did. Every bet, win or lose, was its own kind of adrenaline rush. He was incapable of real despair because he genuinely believed he was a wager away from winning it all back, and he won often enough to be reinforced for that view.”
“How did it go when you spoke to him? Not well, I’m guessing.”
“No, not well. He turned it all around, made me the villain, accused me of violating his privacy and wanting to micromanage his affairs. To describe him as furious is inadequate. I’d never seen him like he was then. I’d never seen anyone like that. He was frightening. It occurred to me that he might stroke out, and if he didn’t, I would.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah. It was fearsome. One good thing came of it, though. He struck me. More than once. First it was a slap that knocked me sideways into the china cupboard. When I straightened up and faced him, he delivered a real haymaker. That punch put me on the floor. I didn’t even try to get up so I’m not sure why he decided to kick me. I curled up on my side, tried to protect my ribs, but he made contact a couple of times that I remember. I don’t know when it all went black.” Ramsey shrugged. “It just did.”
Sullivan frowned. “Explain to me how that was a good thing.”
“It woke me up. It was what I needed to get out. When I came around, I was lying in bed. Jay was sitting at my bedside, remorseful, apologetic. He said all the right things. Spoke from the script that I imagine all wife beaters use as their act of contrition. It was such bullshit that I might have laughed if my ribs could have stood it. He promised to never raise a hand against me again, but did I understand the role I played in provoking it? Not that it excused his behavior, he added quickly, but it did explain it. It went on and on that way. He took responsibility and then pointed out how I was culpable. I finally closed my eyes and pretended to fall asleep, but what I was doing was plotting my exit.”
“Did he ever apologize, or pretend he was sorry for the financial abuse?”
“Not a word about that. See, he understood the violence was beyond the pale—not that I believed it wouldn’t happen again—but he was incapable of comprehending that his control was abusive. That came up at our divorce, and it genuinely blindsided him. I saw his shock. He was convinced, and probably still is, that his actions were protective, even caring.”
Sullivan stared at this glass. “Unbelievable.”
Ramsey smiled, but it was sad. “Hey,” she said softly. “Look at me.” When he did, she continued. “I want you to understand who I was back then. Jay could have easily turned my thinking around, so it wasn’t unbelievable, not the way he explained it. This was the man I loved. It was hardernotto believe him, harder not to second guess myself. If he hadn’t clobbered me, hadn’t crossed a line I didn’t even realize I’d drawn for myself, I might still be married to him.”
“You’re serious.”
“I am.”
Sullivan knuckled his chin and regarded her thoughtfully. “What are your feelings for him now? I get that he’s your ex, but that doesn’t describe how you feel about him. Like you said, you loved him.”
“I don’t hate him, if that’s what you’re looking for. Who wants to carry that kind of animus around?”
Sullivan snorted. “Ramsey, you took your Walther out of your glovebox before you spoke to him.”
“Well, yeah, I did that. Self-preservation. I didn’t know his state of mind and I wasn’t going to let him hit me again.
“Did you buy the gun because of him?”
“I bought the gun for protection. I learned to shoot because of Jay.”
Sullivan gave her a sardonic look. “All right, but you haven’t answered my question.”
“Look, Sullivan, my marriage to Jay taught me a lot about myself, and while I’m sure that wasn’t his intention, I don’t regret the experience because of it. I came to realize that I lacked any sort of self-confidence when I met Jay, though it was something I kept hidden from myself. I was vulnerable when I thought the exact opposite was true. He recognized what I couldn’t, saw an advantage, and seized it. It’s not as if he gave me a roofie. I remember everything, went along with it. It’s hard to resent him for what he did when I let him do it. I had my sights set on finishing my degree, and when he took over my life it seemed like a gift. So many responsibilities were removed from my shoulders. I felt as if I could breathe when in truth, Jay was smothering me.
“I’m telling you this so you’ll know that what I feel for Jay is complicated by what I think about myself. Jay told me at breakfast that I behave as though I’m afraid of him, but that what really scares me is myself. His conclusion is not entirely wrong. His premise is. He believes there’s still something between us. Some kind of attraction, I guess. He points to the fact that I wouldn’t let him inside my home and insisted on a public meeting place. Iamscared of myself, scared of what I’ll do to keep him from turning my life on its head. I don’t want to run. I realized that last night. I have to make a stand, and that is a frightening reality. I don’t love Jay. I don’t admire or respect him or feel any affection for him. Until you came into my life, entire weeks passed when I gave him no thought at all, but spending time with you brought him to the forefront almost every day because I wasn’t ready to talk about him. The more I tried to push him out of the way, the more he wasthere.That’s been the hardest thing about being with you.”
Sullivan thought he understood, or at least understood more than he had. “My relationship with Diane was a lot more straightforward.” His expression was wry. “I guess there’s an advantage to infidelity over insidiousness.”
Ramsey gave a choked laugh. “Insidious. That describes Jay.” She picked up her drink and sipped. “Mm. I like this one better.”
“I made it a little sweeter. An extra dash of Drambuie.”
“Ah. Remember that.” After a second sip, she set the glass down. “So…you haven’t asked. Are you going to?”
“Asked what?”
She shot him a jaundiced look. “You know.”
“Oh, you’re talking about the Powerball.”
