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             Ethan & Anna

 

January 2004. Darling Harbour. Sydney. Australia.

"What's up with you?" she asked after waltzing in his office, a few minutes after the Monday cabinet meeting was over.

"How do you mean?" he replied, looking up from the report he had been reading.

"You seem distracted, absent even?" she explained.

He sighed, "I just have a lot on my mind." closing his eyes, stretching his harms behind his head.

"Well, it can't be the next election, we're not even mid-term, and the budget vote is months away... so what is it?" she said, sitting on his desk.

He felt her closeness and re-opened his eyes.

"Anna, we are not pals, not even lovers, what makes you think you have the right to ask me what's on my mind?" he questioned, perusing her, from her legs up.

Her eyes narrowed on him and she coyly spit, "Well, I was good enough to fuck, but not to share confidences with?"

"Precisely," he responded coldly, seeing her wince at the verbal attack.

He added with another deep sigh, "Look, I'm sorry. I'm taking this out on you and you've done nothing, so let's forget it, ok? I'm preoccupied, let's leave it at that." but she persisted, "Ethan you've been working from home the past week, then went to New Zealand; yet, even when you're here, you're not all here..." her voice trailed, her eyes showing actual concern, otherwise misplaced.

She sighed heavily and asked, irritated, "Is it your wife? What has Vic done..." but he interrupted her, violently pushing his desk chair back, standing up, and looking at her with a look that sent cold shivers of actual fear down her spine, said in a voice that bore a matching chilliness,

"Anna, if you wish to keep working for me, you will not mention my wife's name ever again,"

While the statement was made in an icy tone, he was staring at her, eyes blazing, "Understood?" he demanded as he saw her pale, his face inches from hers, his cerulean eyes, the color of a glacier.

 "Yes." she quipped in a small voice, standing up from the desk, and leaving the room without looking back at him.

It's only, once out, and his office door closed, that she exhaled and readjusted herself with shaky hands. Putting her cold and cool mask back on, she hurried down to her own office to get on with her day but mostly to forget this encounter ever happened.

For the first time since she'd come to work for him, and got to know him, Anna realized Ethan McGregor was unlike any other man she'd known; he could and would hurt her, if crossed.

 

                                ((~~!~~)) 

 

Ethan

 

I am a rapist.

There's no other word for what I have become, what I've done to my wife, the love of my life.

I'm still Ethan, the NSW premier, the brilliant lawyer, the politician, but let's not sugarcoat it: I raped my wife.

Yes, I was drunk and impaired; yet, the fact remains. I took her against her will. This was not one of our games where she pretended to resist me, only to make me show her how much I wanted her.

No, this was rape, plain and simple, and I am guilty.

And, it's tearing me apart. No matter what I do, it's always there; I can't stop thinking about it.

It's killing me.

That's a story nobody wants to tell - that the rapist's life is as devastated as the person he rapes.

And no, I'm not looking at making excuses here. I'm just saying things are complex.

No one knows, but I've started seeing a professional. Two days after I returned from my New Zealand trip, I had my first session. There was no other choice, it was either talking to a doctor or talking to the police, I certainly couldn't talk to my priest and Tom Collins wouldn't help, it's what got me in this mess in the first place. I was completely crumbling internally, and just about to hand in my resignation as Premier.

Vic wouldn't talk to me, look at me, or be in the same room as me. And when I learned she went to the police, I panicked. My first instinct was self-preservation, and that's the reason I had the commissioner scrap the report and then I threatened her, even though I had no intention whatsoever to ever harm her again.

But then the look she gave me the night of my return from Auckland prevented me from sleeping. It was the first actual look that passed between us since that fateful night, and it nearly killed me.

As she was telling me I could do anything I wanted as long as I didn't hurt her, it hit me; the depths of what I had done to her, yes, but also, to us and ultimately to myself. The woman in front of me that night wasn't my wife; she was a victim of my cruelty, a very afraid one. She had no expression, no soul, and appeared uncaring of her own life, her look was indifferent, void even, and I had done that to her.

Me, no one else.

The woman I loved and promised to cherish until I died, I had killed her spirit, making her an empty shell overnight.

I committed the most intimate of crimes, and in that instant, I realized the extent of the consequences.

I have great love for my wife and the regret and guilt I feel every minute of every day are the only things guiding me right now.

I have been taught from a very young age that we have choices about our lives and that we are responsible for what happens to us. Here, I committed the deed that changed me and my life forever; it is my choice on how to deal with the aftermath.

There were only two things to be done; either self-destruct, or trying to push through the pain.

I am a good man. At least, I believe I am. I want to be one. I am Ethan McGregor, so really the latter option is truly the one, the only one. I'll endure whatever is necessary, but I swear to myself, I will reconquer my wife.

Whatever it takes.

It had always been my motto as far as she was concerned; whatever it took to make her mine, to make her happy, to keep her.

I have no delusions. It is going to be painful, for me, and especially for her. How can she ever trust me after what I've done? But, I'll do whatever it takes.

 

((~~!~~))

 

The two men look at each other in silence, each preoccupied with the presence of the other in the very same room.

"You can start anytime you're ready," says Robert Michaellson, MD, psychiatrist.

"I just don't know where to start," replies with an unsteady voice, his first time patient, Ethan McGregor, NSW Premier.

The doctor smiles to put his patient at ease, and says softly, "The beginning is usually a good place...but, why don't you tell me what caused you to seek for my help? Maybe we can take..."

"I raped my wife." is the calm sentence interrupting the doctor spiel, shocking them both by its force and meaning.

The two men stare at each other in silence; each knowing there will be no turning back from this session.

This is not going to be a short-term therapy.

 

((~~!~~))

 

In the next session, they agree to weekly appointments. More can be arranged if a crisis occurs.

"I love her. And yes, my love is selfish, but I do love her. She's my family, the family I want...the family I need. I want to have children with this woman and make sure that she's always happy. Yes, what I did was wrong, very wrong, and criminal even, but we all make mistakes in relationships. I hope she will slowly forgive me. I'll do whatever it take to make that happen..." his voice breaks, as he looks at the doctor in front of him.

"Whatever it takes?" repeats Dr Michaellson, eyebrows raised.

"Absolutely." Ethan replies convincingly, wondering who he is trying to convince more, the doctor or himself.

‘"Well, let's start with what you just called ‘a mistake', shall we?" the doctor replies, deadpan.

 

((~~!~~))

Session 3.

"Love is about possession and liberation, protection and freedom, and so many other things. There has to be a balance in everything and with you pulling strings the way you have, how can Vic truly know if you love her or if you simply love "owning" her? There is a difference." says Dr Michaellson to his patient.

He watches him as Ethan is massaging his temples while lying down on the sofa.

"But Ethan, you don't seem to know this yet," the therapist adds.

"I can be controlling and overbearing in our private life and she loves me for it. She craved that I was the only man who could cage her..." Ethan tries to explain, moving into a seating position.

"Yes, but you raped her, she did not ask for this." the doctor counters, eyes and voice steady.

"She did not. I did it." Ethan cracks, his voice trembling.

"So, you understand, the love and protection you vowed, died in that instant? You need to acknowledge the rape was not just a physical element of..." the doctor explains with a soothing voice, in light of the distress displayed by his patient.

"I know doctor!" Ethan interrupts vehemently. He sighs heavily and declares, "Why do you think I'm here? I can barely look at her! Barely look at myself! I can barely sleep and I'm on the brink of collapsing! I am perfectly aware this goes deeper for us both! Yes, for her it was devastating, but for me too! I became a criminal! Moreover, I'm simply not the man I thought I was, the man I want to be, the man she needs! If our marriage has any chance of survival, I need to work on the issues that led me to do this to her, to us... "

"Ethan do you want to retell the story?" asks the therapist gently, to counteract the agitated state his patient is currently in. He asked, not because he cares about the grisly details of the event, but for the healing; the retelling is actually a safe place. Going over it again helps his patient. Makes him see and feel things in a new light and helps him progress towards acceptance and therefore forgiveness.

 

((~~!~~))

 

Session 4.

"She sounds enchanting," retorts the doctors after his patient gave a long description as to why he is so attached to his wife.

"She is the love of my life." Ethan whispered feeling his throat tighten.

"Have you apologized to her?" the doctor asked gently.

"No. She would not believe me, not after the threats." Ethan says, his eyes meeting those of the physician.

"Well, how do you plan to make that work then?" Dr. Michaellson insists.

‘I don't know, I don't know. I keep praying for some sign." His patient heavily sighs.

 

((~~!~~))

 

Session 5.

"She pregnant," Ethan declares with an anguished tone, as he's plopping on the divan.

This was not a scheduled session, but learning the news threw him for a loop and he's been feeling increasingly anxious as hours went by after he left his house the very same morning minutes after talking to the unsuspecting medical secretary whom informed him he was soon to be a father.

"Should I congratulate you?" asks the doctor, concerned. After all, this wasn't an ordinary conception.

Ethan's eyes just look up to meet Dr. Michaellson's, but he's unable to answer.

"How is she?" asks the doctor, trying to deflect the tension he feels emanating from his patient.

"What do you plan to do?" he reiterates, after a few minutes of silence, as Ethan's eyes are focused on something behind the doctor's desk.

"I don't know. Try to be the best husband I can be?" Ethan says, his eyes reverting to his doctor, hopeful he can give him the answer.

He needs reassurance. Desperately.

"Ethan, have you spoken to her? How did she tell you she was pregnant? How did she look at you when giving you the news?" the therapist asks trying to place the situation in context.

"She didn't," Ethan whispers, looking at the carpet.

"I'm not understanding you...She didn't tell you? But..." Dr Michaellson is confused.

"Her doctor's secretary told me by mistake! Vic doesn't know I know," Ethan spits in a shaky voice.

"Would you like a glass of water? You look..." the doctor starts as he sees his patient starting to tremble while his cheeks are getting increasingly pale.

"I don't want water! What I want is for none of this to be real!" Ethan exclaims, despair lacing his voice, as he stands up from his seat and starts to pace.

The doctor remains silent until his patient sits back down and looks at him. But when he finally does, and their eyes meet, and before he can utter a single word, Ethan starts to silently cry.

It lasts for a while.

"I'm sorry," he finally murmurs, "I'm usually more in control of my emotions..." he pursues, apologetic for his outburst, using the handkerchief he pulled from his pocket to dry his face.

"Ethan, do not apologize. This is why you are here. It is a good thing you finally let the emotions eating at you come out. I'd say we had a breakthrough today. We can move forward," the doctor says gently with a small smile.

"Now, can we really talk? Can you tell me how you feel, truly feel? What did you mean when you said you wished none of this was real? I want you to elaborate on this. Were you talking about the pregnancy or were you referencing to the rape? Or both?" the therapist asks.

Ethan is caught off guard by the question but decides to be honest and give a hard thought to what he truly meant when he uttered the words.

"I was talking about the rape, I think. I'm shocked she is pregnant...I am mad she didn't tell me," he holds his hand up when he sees the doctor's mouth open, and adds, "Yes, I am mad, but I get why she wouldn't tell me anything after what happened. Yet, I am strangely happy to know she is carrying our child. I'm going to be a father...Do I make any sense?"

"It is how you feels that matters here, Ethan, not what makes sense or doesn't." the doctor replies seriously. "So, you are happy about this baby in spite of how it came to be?" he continues, seeking deeper.

"Yes, I am. I've been...we've been wanting a child..." his voice trails softly, almost dreamily.

"You both have?" the doctor asks, registering the piece of information, surprised.

"Yes, we both did. Having our own family was important to us. We discussed it before getting married. In fact, it was one of the reason... but with the campaign, our plans were derailed, and thereafter, with the problems we had...I tried to regain her trust, regain our magic..." his voice trails as he shuts his eyes when he ends with a strangled voice, "but, then I ra-... raped her on the night of our anniversary..."

"Indeed." says, the doctor calmly as Ethan eyes shoot open, "...and now she is pregnant, and hasn't said anything to you. So, the question is, what do you plan to do? Obviously, a discussion is in order. She will not be able to hide it ad vitam aeternam. Besides, this might be the perfect opportunity to tell her you have taken steps to change, maybe, to tell her you are seeing me and indeed are trying whatever it takes to save your marriage... "

Ethan's shoulders slump at the suggestion and he replies, "I want to talk to her but I am afraid. It is ridiculous when you think about it; after all, I threatened her, but I am afraid. She hasn't left me yet, and things are...well, they just are...but a discussion could turn into a confrontation and she could walk out on me...and I don't think I can bear it."

"Ethan, you are who you are, so I won't insult your intelligence or treat you like a fragile man who doesn't have a clue about what's happening in his life. You do know and you have the tools to, maybe not fix things, but at least change them one way or the other. It is truly up to you when or how you want to be in control of our own life. My door is open and I will see you for years if necessary to help you deal with your issues, but the current situation doesn't allow for procrastination." He sees his patient wince, but presses on, "You do not have years to deal with this particular set of circumstances. A few months, at best. And I strongly believe the sooner you speak to your wife about this pregnancy, the better for you and her. I'm not forcing you to do it, but seeing your current state, it is clear, it needs to be done. For your own sake, your mental health depends on it, and as I said, maybe if you tell her how you feel about this baby, just maybe this will be the beginning of a new chapter in..."

"Or the end of my marriage altogether," Ethan cuts in, standing up once more.

"Or the end of your marriage," the therapist confirms, yet adds, "But either way, you'll know where you both stand Ethan. And, that is primordial if you want me to help you. You raped her nearly two months ago and have seen me for six weeks. You seem to think there is hope for your marriage... Actually, you are convinced of it..." He sighs, "That it isn't over in spite of what happened and yet, you haven't spoken to her about that night and how you feel... You haven't asked her how she feels. You haven't apologized. And yes, I remember you told me she refuses to even evoke the topic of what happened that night. But now, she is pregnant and I think deep down, you know the longer you ignore the elephant in the room, the harder it will be to, in fact, control the outcome..." Dr Michaellson ends with a hand gesture signifying he's done talking.

"What if she leaves?" says Ethan, more a statement than a question.

"We deal with it Ethan. We deal with it." responds the doctor, stopping his recorder, signalling the end of their session.

 

((~~!~~))

 

Session 10.

"I realized I am truly afraid, if I can't make her happy again, I'll lose her, which is the worst part, giving me cold sweats at night." Ethan sighs.

"That's a good reason to be afraid," replies the doctor

"The idea of life without her is not only unbearable, but also unimaginable. Being with her, she makes the person I want to be emerge, instead of the person I am."

"Does she know she has such power over you?"

"It's not power doctor. I just want, no,...I need to be a better man around her. And, no, I haven't told her. Not lately anyway. How could I?"

"What's stopping you?" asks the therapist, letting the first statement slide.

"Look, I don't want to lose her. I'm seeing you for that purpose. She is hurt, and angry. I'm giving her space, rightly so, and I can't just blurt out...I have to be very careful..." Ethan sighs, and pursues, "She's accepted to come the ball with me and I have to believe this step will lead to a better place for us. This is going to be her first public appearance since..."

"Since the... your anniversary?" the doctor says, writing on a notepad.

"Yes," Ethan mumbles looking down the carpet

"Well, I truly wish you are right Ethan. Let's hope that evening doesn't end up anywhere close to the last time..." the doctor says sternly.

"Never. I will never hurt her again." Ethan swears, getting agitated.

"Never is a long time Ethan. Let's just see how you both go through this night." Dr Michaellson concludes, stopping the recorder.

 

((~~!~~))

Session 11.

"I threatened her, I panicked," Ethan stammers with a shaky voice, taking a seat and lowering his gaze, unable to meet the doctor's eyes. He feels ashamed.

He arrived ten minutes earlier for an emergency session at 7:15 a.m. and has been pacing furiously in the therapist's office without a word until he abruptly sat, finally admitting what he's done.

"Your wife is pregnant and you threatened her?" the doctor repeats, stunned.

"I found out by accident...you know that. And then... she was actually going to leave... Instinctively, I had no choice..." Ethan says, unsteadily, the argument sounding false even to his own ears.

He breathes heavily.

"Last night was horrible...I threatened her and the baby...Oh God, I am a monster..." Ethan keeps repeating the sentence over and over, almost as if he doesn't believe it actually happened.

Dr Michaellson pours water in two glasses for both of them, and for an instant, it is the only sound in the room.

"Ethan, can you tell me how this came about? I'm not here to judge, but your reaction seems disproportionate to say the least..." the therapist says, handing him a glass, and thinking this session will give him the breakthrough he needs to finally understand this more complex than most patient.

So, Ethan starts to tell.

How last night, instead of enjoying the Premier's ball, he went home and threatened his wife and his future child of bodily harm.

"She was leaving me...I-I...I can't breathe..." his voice cracks, right after he's described how he was waiting for his wife in the dark as she was preparing to leave their house, their life, him.

As he is unfastening his tie, the doctor watches him carefully, and for the first time, Dr Michaellson is convinced of the depths of his patient's love for his wife; no one can simulate that kind of utter despair.

From the beginning, he pegged Ethan as a man needing control over events and people, but he now sees, clear as day, a man who simply is madly in love with his wife; a man who is devastated and scared by her impending departure. And that makes this case even more complex than he initially thought. Ethan's public persona is almost the opposite of the man in front of him.

A dishevelled man whose wife is leaving. A state of affairs that quite clearly seemed to have pushed him into a corner...and over the edge.

"Do you need me to open the windows? Or do you want go to the terrace for a few minutes to get some air?" asks the therapist concerned by the distinct pallor and the shallow breathing his distraught patient is manifesting.

Ethan spends a few minutes on the balcony of his doctor's office. He notices his hands are still shaking as he holds the railing. He closes his eyes and works on his breathing by counting backwards, as the doctor taught him, until it comes back to normal and he doesn't feel his heart is pounding in his head instead of his chest.

"Thank you," he says, as he returns inside and sits back on the sofa facing Dr. Michaellson.

"Ethan, what exactly happened last night? Is your wife ok?" asks the doctor, real concern etching his features as he steadily adds, "Because if I heard you correctly, you menaced your wife? And that can't be right; because we both know if you meant your threats or have done something to her, I'd have to report you to the authorities..." his voice trails as he is giving a hard stare to his patient.

The two men look at each other in a face-off similar to the one they had on the first day they met, until Ethan says in a clear, collected, yet deceptively calm voice, his eyes unwavering,

"I threatened to hurt her and our baby in order to prevent her from leaving the house. This was the only reason I said those words. Vic is fine and was still asleep safe and sound in her bed when I left the house to come here,"

He cracks his knuckles, his eyes still glaring at the therapist.

 "Marina, our housekeeper is at home with her. Feel free to call and check," his tone is casual, but his eyes narrow sharply on the doctor when he concludes, "Let's be clear about one thing, I'd kill anyone who'd dare lay and hand on her or my child." He reaches for his glass of water and takes a sip, his gaze never leaving the man in front of him.

They remain silent until the therapist finally relaxes in his chair, and reiterates more gently this time, "Ethan, tell me what happened last night that affected you so much that you made these unconceivable threats. What happened that was so terrible it prevented you to sleep and drove you here at 7:00am in the morning..."

Dr. Michaellson watches his patient as he lies down on the recliner.

 

 

"She was leaving. And, I couldn't let her go..." Ethan replies closing his eyes, and remembering.






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Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.