“Thomas, it doesn’t matter if we make love or not.”
Throwing his legs over the side of the bed, Thomas grabbed for his discarded clothes with jerky, uncoordinated motions. “I find that hard to believe.”
Thomas went into the hall, slamming the door behind him with such force that the storm windows rattled in their frames.
Cassi found herself engulfed in lonely darkness. The howling wind, which moments before had enhanced her sense of security, now did the opposite. The old fear of being abandoned haunted her. Despite the warmth of the blankets, Cassi shivered. What if Thomas left her? Desperately she tried to put the thought out of her mind because she could not bear the possibility. Maybe he had just been drunk. She recalled his lack of equilibrium and slurred speech. In the short time she’d spoken with Patricia, it didn’t seem possible that Thomas could have absorbed enough alcohol to cause such an effect, but when she thought about it, she had to admit that there had been several such episodes in the last three or four months.
Rolling onto her back, Cassi stared at the ceiling where an outdoor lamp shining through the leafless tree outside created a pattern like a gigantic spider web. Frightened by the image, she turned on her side only to confront the same scary shadow on the wall across from the window. Was Thomas taking some kind of drug? Having admitted the possibility, she recognized that she’d been denying the signs for months. It was further evidence that Thomas was unhappy with her, that their life had drastically changed, and that he had changed.
In the bathroom off his study, Thomas stared at his naked body in the mirror. Although he hated to admit it, he did look older, And more worrisome than that was his shriveled penis. To his own touch it felt almost numb, and the lack of sensation filled him with agonizing fear. What was wrong with his sexuality? When Cassi had been massaging him he’d felt the need for sexual release. But obviously his penis had had other ideas.
It must have been Cassi’s fault, he reasoned halfheartedly, as he returned to the study and got into his clothes. Rescuing his drink, he sat at his desk and opened the second drawer on the right. In the very back, hidden by his stationery, were a number of plastic bottles. If he was going to sleep, he needed one more pill. Just one! Deftly he flipped one of the small yellow tablets into his mouth, then chased it down with his Scotch. It was amazing how quickly he felt the calming effect.
CHAPTER 4
* * *
THE NEXT MORNING Cassi took her insulin and ate breakfast without any sign of Thomas. By eight she was concerned. Their usual schedule on Saturday was to leave by eight-fifteen so that Thomas could see his patients before Grand Rounds and Cassi could catch up on her own work.
Putting down the article she’d been reading at her desk and tightening the belt on her robe, Cassi walked from the morning room down the hall and listened outside Thomas’s door. There were no sounds whatsoever. She knocked softly and waited. Still nothing. She tried the door. It was unlocked. Thomas was sound asleep with his alarm clock gripped in his hand. Evidently he’d turned it off and fallen directly back to sleep. Cassi walked over to him and shook him gently. There was no response. She shook him more forcibly and his heavy-lidded eyes opened, but he looked as if he didn’t recognize her.
“I’m sorry to wake you, but it’s already after eight. You do want to go to Grand Rounds, don’t you?”
“Grand Rounds?” answered Thomas with confusion. Then he seemed to understand. “Of course I want to go. I’ll be down for a bite in a few minutes. We’ll leave here in twenty at the most.”
“I’m not going to the hospital today,” said Cassi as brightly as she could. “I’m not expected in psychiatry, and I have an enormous amount to read. I brought home an entire bag full of reprints.”
“Suit yourself,” said Thomas, pushing himself up to a sitting position. “I’m on call tonight, so I’m not sure when I’ll be home. I’ll let you know later.”