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Lacey went back to see Claire ahead of schedule, and told her everything that had happened. Claire put her under again, and spent an hour exploring the details of the rape that she hadn't gone after earlier. As each horrible part of the assault was revealed, Claire worked more instructions into the dialog, intended to minimize the emotional impact of the memories. Then she brought Lacey out of the hypnotic trance and spent another hour with her, concentrating on the things that Lacey felt were better in her life.

"Is it weird that I love Bob, even though we don't really have all the history my mind keeps telling me is there?" she asked.

"Love is weird," said Claire, smiling. "Love doesn't make any sense at all sometimes. We don't know where it comes from, or why it centers on the people it does. There might be no logical reason for you to love Bob at all, but that doesn't mean anything. It's what you feel that's important."

"But how do I know I really feel that way?" asked Lacey.

"You're afraid that one false memory means you have other false memories," suggested Claire.

"Yes."

"Let's go back to your relationship with Paul for a minute, OK?" Claire crossed her legs. "When you married him, you loved him, right?"

"I remember loving him," said Lacey. It was obvious she didn't trust that memory.

"And you remember being unsatisfied and frustrated with him, right?"

"Yes."

"At this point in the game," said Claire, "what difference does it make if either or both of those memories is a result of the accident, instead of being historically accurate?"

"But what if I really still love Paul?" asked Lacey, getting agitated. "What if the bad memories of him are false?"

"DO you still feel like you love Paul?" asked Claire quietly.

"No." Lacey sounded defeated. "But what if I'm supposed to? I mean if the accident had never happened, I might still love him. This is all so confusing!"

"Look," said Claire, her voice soothing because she made it that way. "The unfortunate fact is that truth is relative sometimes. Some things appear to be true because we BELIEVE they're true. In cases like that, it doesn't really matter whether something is actually true or not. If the mind believes it, then the mind acts on things based on that belief. In this case, you believe you don't love Paul any more, and you believe you do love Bob. Unless something changes to alter that belief, then, for all intents and purposes, it is true."

"So you're telling me not to worry about it," said Lacey.

"Not at all," said Claire. "The purpose of education and debate is to explore those things that people accept as truth. Your experience during the rape is a perfect example. You believed that if you had an orgasm during the attack, that it meant you were enjoying it. So did Paul, for that matter. But the truth is that something else was going on there. What you both believed wasn't true, but you both acted on it as if it were. Now that you understand the truth of what happened, your feelings of guilt are gone. There's nothing wrong with seeking to clarify things that are uncertain, for one reason or another. If you're not sure about something, it's a very good idea to investigate that."

"So I should question how I feel about Bob?" Lacey didn't sound happy.

"Not question ... explore." Claire re-crossed her legs. "What you feel for Bob is real, but it's based on something that may not be true. I suspect that you felt the attraction ... the attachment ... before any of this happened. All the accident did was let you expand on that and believe it consciously. It freed you to feel the way you wanted to feel. What I'd suggest now is that you explore the relationship, and begin to base it on things that are real in the present. This isn't radical thinking, Lacey. This is the kind of thing that married couples need to do all the time. People change, and getting married doesn't stop that. If you stay together for longer than a few years, you need to keep falling in love with your spouse, because he or she keeps turning into a new person."

"I never thought of relationships like that before," said Lacey. "But it makes sense. It's obvious when you think about it. Why didn't I ever think about it before?"

"We get stuck in ruts," said Claire. "It's easy to just stay in them. They make it so we don't have to think about where we're going. We think the ruts will just take us where we want to go."

"So people are in these ruts, believing things that may not be true, and not really thinking about what's going on in their lives. That's so sad." Lacey sighed.

"It can be," said Claire. "But change is very hard. Look what happened to you when you bounced out of the ruts you were in."

Lacey's reaction was slightly different than Claire thought it might be. Her patient smiled.

"I'm glad I got out of the ruts I was in," she said. "This has been very difficult for me, but I know I'm in a better place than I was. Isn't that strange? I was raped, and in a terrible accident ... and yet I'm actually glad it happened. That's just so strange!"

"Not strange at all," said Claire firmly. "It simply means that you're dealing with the circumstances that fate has visited upon you. Hope and joy and love are stronger than the bad things. You've recognized that, and have chosen to seek out the good things in your life. I'm very happy about that, Lacey. It means you won't be needing me much longer."

Ironically—and there's no better word for it—Lacey's reaction to her latest session with her psychiatrist resulted in her settling into a new set of ruts in her life. She decided not to question her feelings for Bob. Paul was gone, and the dim memories she had of him weren't appealing, so she didn't think much about him either. Her business was doing well. She was happy. Though there were still holes in her memory, she didn't worry about them. She developed another "belief" that wasn't based on facts. As far as she was concerned, if she didn't remember something, it wasn't very important. Life was good, and she intended to enjoy it.

Part of that was enjoying being in love with, and being loved by Bob Duncan. And part of THAT was the physical love they shared, which she no longer associated with anything unhappy in her history.

It wasn't so easy for Bob. His memory was fully intact, and his moral code was unaffected by trauma. Irony was also present in the way he tried to deal with the situation. In his case, what he chose to believe wasn't based on "facts." Instead, it was the LACK of facts that let him tell himself that there was no PROOF that Lacey Fetterman had murdered a man. Unfortunately, his experience and intellect kept telling him otherwise.

That Lacey loved him was no longer in question. They talked about the things she and Claire had discussed. Lacey found innumerable reasons to love Bob, and told him about them. And his feelings for her were unquestionable too. He was well aware that part of his attraction to her was based on lust. He had lusted after her when he first met her. What had changed was that now he couldn't imagine his life without her.

And if he acted on what he knew ... or thought he knew ... she could very easily be snatched out of his life, possibly for years, while prison destroyed her. He had no doubt prison would destroy a woman like Lacey. She was too bright, and active, and involved in life to survive sitting in an eight by ten room for hours on end, watching daytime television, and trying to just survive when she was outside that room.

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Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 5

The place he directed her to was a tiny hole-in-the-wall that she would have never given a second glance. She realized how hungry she was the instant she walked in, through the door Bob held for her, and the odor of wonderful, delicious things hit her like a sledge hammer. "Vinny!" Bob called out to a man, standing at the grill, wearing a white paper hat. Vinny looked over his shoulder, grinned, and held both hands up in the air, a spatula still in one. "You got me, copper," he said....

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 6

Lacey was ferrying a flash drive containing hundreds of photographs from the dig to the museum. A major discovery had been found. A collapsed cellar had been uncovered and, inside it, there were bones. Human bones. It wasn't clear yet how they had come to be there, but there were no indications of intentional burial. The artifacts found with the bodies suggested that people had taken refuge in the cellar and had died there. The pictures were needed at the museum as soon as possible, so that...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 7

Bob had just left the briefing room, coming on shift. He hadn't even buckled his seat belt when the radio squawked to life, telling him of a multiple injury accident, with an explosion involved. Paramedics and the fire department were already on the scene. Three patrols were being dispatched, and all three were still in the parking lot, after the briefing in the squad room. Three engines roared, and three sirens began to wail, as tires screeched. It was impossible to get close to the...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 8

When Bob went off shift, he returned to the hospital. "How come you're the only cop who ever checks on her?" asked the head nurse. "It's my case," he said bruskly. "How's she doing?" "Better," said the nurse. "She should be awake. All her vitals are normal. The sedative has been stopped. The only reason she's still in ICU is that she won't wake up." "I'll just sit with her for a while," said Bob. He'd stayed in uniform, since that got him almost anything he wanted, with...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 9

Sleep came with difficulty for Bob. His mind roiled with the import of what he knew ... or thought he knew. He tried to convince himself that cars caught on fire all the time. There was only circumstantial evidence that the dead man was her rapist at all. Even the fact that there had been no more rapes with that modus operandi didn't prove anything. Like Lacey, no one had come forward to ask where their son, or brother, or father, or husband was. The crispy critter, still unidentified, was...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 10

He took her to the impound lot, answering her questions when he thought he could do so safely, and dodging them or changing the subject when it got close to something he didn't want to talk about. She was appropriately awed by the damage to her car, and only glanced through the box of her possessions. The attendant brought out a bill for storage, and Bob tore it up. "Hey, you can't do that!" said the attendant. "I just did," said Bob. "The lady was in the hospital while it was...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 11

He took her to Santini's. On the way, he told her a car had sideswiped hers, and that she hadn't been injured. While she was trying to help others involved in the accident, an explosion had occurred. He left it simple. "Explosion," she said, her voice far away. "I remember light ... all over ... I was submerged in light." "What else do you remember?" he asked, his voice guarded. "Just that. When you said explosion, it just came to me." When they walked into Santini's, Donna met...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 12

Bob eventually slept, despite the erection between his legs that demanded attention. It was still demanding attention when he woke the next morning, with a soft, naked woman pressed against his body. It had been a long time since there had been a naked woman of any kind pressed against his body when he woke. That had been a result of long hours, and an unwillingness by Bob to turn over part of his life to any woman. It wasn't that he didn't like women ... it was more that he hadn't found a...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 13

Bob went back to his apartment. The bed was still unmade and the wrinkled linens held the imprint of a bed that had been slept in by a couple. The pillow she'd used was lying against his own, like her head had lain close to his. On impulse, he bent to sniff the sheets where she had lain. They smelled like ... her. He hadn't missed the verbal slip that the doctor had made. She'd been about to say that as much as she would have liked to get naked with him, right there in the office, it...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 14

Bob sat and read magazines, until there were none left to examine. There was no noise coming through the door—it was so quiet he felt like he was the only person on the planet. Eventually, his ears detected the hum of air being pushed here and there by the building's air handler units. He heard a siren dimly, through the walls, but no traffic noises. He checked his watch so frequently that he finally took it off and put it in his pocket. Finally, he dozed off. He woke, when the door opened...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 15

Bob popped two Vivarin when he got into the squad car the next morning. She had kept him up all night, satisfying her own needs and making up for the dry spell Bob had been in. He felt drained, but also more relaxed than he'd been in years. He was no longer distracted, either. Lacey had another appointment with Claire, but he was no longer worried that she'd suddenly realize there was no past between them. That had already been addressed. Now all he had to worry about was the return of...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 17

Bob heard her gasp as he left the bedroom. His head swiveled and he saw her standing there, bent slightly forward, her arm outstretched, hand turned sideways in a fist at the top of a candle. Her face was so pale it looked almost ghostly. Her mouth opened and an agonized groan was torn from her throat as she dropped the lighter and reeled backwards. Her eyes stared at the tall, pale yellow flame that the lighter had created at the tip of the candle, but her mind saw the same hand,...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 18

Back in the apartment, Claire asked questions. They were not "What did you do?" type questions, but rather were "How do you feel about what you did?" type questions. Lacey didn't feel good about any of it. For the psychiatrist, it was like walking a tightrope. Or, perhaps it was like making her patient walk the tightrope. There needed to be remorse for a bad deed, for there to be health in the mind and spirit. But it could be taken too far, and the patient could begin to hate herself,...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 19

She was adamant about keeping her appointment with Claire. He was glad she was going, because he had to go to work. He hoped Claire would talk some sense into her, and he made her promise not to do anything until she'd talked it over with him, no matter what she decided to do. She was waiting for him when he got home from his shift. She was calm, but looked drained. "I have to make this right," she said. "If you're sure about this, then it needs to be done right," he said...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 20

Two weeks later Bob was coming home from the gym, still dressed in his sweats. McDill had instructed them, superfluously, not to see each other until after the trial. He had been noncommittal after his questioning of Bob, concerning what his defense would be. "I have some ideas," was all he'd say. Bob turned the last corner and started toward the entrance to his apartment building. A car pulled to a stop at the curb next to him and the window rolled down. "Get in!" came a male voice he...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 21

Roger Schwartz grabbed his briefcase and hurried for the entrance/exit of the new suite of offices the prosecutor's staff was lucky to have just moved into. Lucille, his secretary, called out a cheery "Good luck!" as he sailed by her desk. "Don't need luck!" he yelled back, flashing her a grin. In fact, he believed that. He was one of the up and coming lawyers of a generation that believed skill would make "luck" an archaic term. If that seems a bit rash, perhaps it could be said...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 22

The door to the jury room opened and a man wearing glasses came in. He looked at something on a clipboard in his hand. "We're about to begin," he said, with no other introduction. "I need to give you some information about what's expected of you. Please listen closely." He read a list of rules, things they could and could not do while they were sitting in the jury box. His voice droned, making it clear he'd read this list countless times in the past. Fully half the jury tuned him...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 23

The next witness called after lunch was probably a poor choice for that particular spot in the lineup, but it hadn't been planned that way. It was the medical examiner who had done the autopsy on Kinneson's remains. Schwartz apologized to the jury for what they were about to hear, and then had the doctor describe the compound fracture in the victim's leg, which would have made it impossible for him to move around on his own. Then there was the testimony of the condition of the lungs, which...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 24

It was day two of the trial and Roger was ready to produce testimony about the DNA identification of Gilbert Kinneson's remains. He had contacted Senior Technician Fred Simms, the lab supervisor, and hastily explained what he needed. Simms said it would be no problem. Schwartz tried to be as clear about things as possible. "Now I know that there were a lot of tests done on the DNA from the body," said Roger. "That's not germane to the issue in this trial. All I need is an overview of...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 25

Instead of calling the first defense witness, Matthew now exercised his right to cross examine Officer Robert Duncan. Once Bob was on the stand, and had been reminded he was still under oath, Matthew began what he believed in his own mind was some of the most important questioning he'd do. He didn't want to ruin Bob, but uppermost in his mind was Lacey's welfare. "When did you first meet my client?" was his first question. Bob named the date and said, "I needed to interview her as the...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 26

There was a diner, of sorts, on the first floor of the building. It served pre-packaged sandwiches and salads. There were also hot soups, Polish sausages, hot dogs, kraut and the like. Maggie wasn't interested in the fatty foods, so she chose a bowl of mushroom soup, with lemonade, and took it to one of the small tables that were scattered around. She sat in one of two chairs at the table. She was joined by Helen, who asked if she could sit in the other chair. Neither woman seemed to be...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 27

"The defense calls Doctor Claire Montgomery to the stand," said Matthew. Roger stood. "Your honor, I fail to see the relevance of anything this witness could bring to the issue. I must object. Mental state is not at issue here. The accused did not plead based on insanity, either temporary or otherwise." Matthew spoke clearly. "Your honor, I have already indicated that I'm trying to establish motive for my client's actions. This witness's testimony is crucial to that...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 28

As soon as Claire left the courtroom, the judge turned to the jury. "I'm not going to sequester you, because you have not started your deliberations. You may all go home to your families, but you are not to discuss anything you've heard in this case with anyone, under any circumstances. Is that perfectly clear?" Most of the jury nodded. "Court will resume at nine-thirty tomorrow morning," he said, and banged his gavel hard on the block. The gravity of the situation had penetrated...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 29

The jury room hadn't changed much, but the changes that HAD been made were obvious. At each of the twelve chairs around the long table, there was a cheap name tag, made of paper folded into an inverted V. Maggie's was at one end of the table and bore the title "Foreman." It was almost lunch time and some faceless employee had provided a tray of sandwiches, individual bags of various kinds of chips, fruit, and pre-packaged salads from the cafe downstairs. There were also a dozen kinds of...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 30

An hour and a half later Judy again chirped, "Let's vote!" Maggie looked around. People looked tired. A lot had been said, but there didn't seem to be any general consensus. Voting would at least be trying to make progress. She passed out ballots. This time, when she separated the pieces of folded paper, there were four in the guilty pile and eight in the not guilty pile. Everyone looked surprised. "My, my," said Maggie, who had changed her vote, but didn't expect anyone else to do...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 31

"Has the jury reached a verdict?" asked Judge Gunderson. Maggie stood. "We have, your honor." The bailiff took the folded piece of paper from her hand and walked it to the judge. He opened it. He looked at the jury, and then back at the paper. "Was this unanimous?" he asked. "Yes, sir," said Maggie. Gunderson handed the paper back to the bailiff, who returned it to Maggie. "The defendant will stand," intoned the judge. Lacey and McDill stood. Lacey looked like she might fall...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 32

As it turned out, Claire's misgivings were justified. Nothing like this had ever happened before, and she had no clue as to how to proceed. Had she been in her professional setting, she would have controlled the conversation. She couldn't really do that, there in the restaurant. So, she chose to try giving Lacey the redemption she sought. "They forgave you," she said, her voice tight. Bob shot her a look that said very clearly, "What the fuck? You don't mean that." Lacey didn't see...

Mistrusting a MemoryChapter 33

Bob was turning in tickets. He'd been approached by no less than six people when he came into the building. Dillworth was gone. News like that travels like lightning in any organization. He'd heard not only that Dillworth was gone, but the circumstances of how he'd gone. The place was still abuzz with it. Nobody knew exactly why it happened, but the manner in which it had taken place had made the detective division euphoric. He didn't think anything about it when his supervisor, Captain...

Mistrusting a MemoryEpilogue

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My daughter had just finished having a shower when I walked into the bathroom. There she was toweling down with droplets of water running from her hair, down her face and neck and over her breasts to drip onto her flat stomach and run down to her smooth pussy.My heart jumped as I looked at her. Sure I had seen her naked many times before, but somehow tonight was different. Maybe it was because I had just got home from work and was about to take a shower myself and I was standing there naked...

Black Widow

Black Widow This story starts about 3 years ago. I was one of those typical self made men in America. Very popular and athletic, I had lettered in every sport that I tried. This success followed me through college, and was a major help upon graduation from college. I had alumni going out of their way to help me out, and I decided to go into the commercial real estate business. Business was far better than I even thought it would be. Within a year, I was grossing a mid six figure...

Snatched for a Day

I knew I was in trouble when I heard a voice say '...what you looking at bitch...' not thinking I was day dreaming as I watched a burly, well built senior working out in the schools gym. Shuddering, I tried to explain that I was only watching how he maneuvered the weights and switched to heavier ones... He raised his hand and said '...stop lying, I saw how you watched my dick. You want some of don't you, well, you gonna get some like it or not...' I started to walk away when suddenly he longed...

The Plant Girl

THE PLANT GIRLSeptember 2005Norwich Boultwood looked at the clock. Quarter to three. He leaned back in his chair. It was time to go. God, he?d been looking forward to this all week. Beneath his Brooks Brothers twill trousers, Norwich?s cock squirmed miserably, yet excitedly in the chastity tube. It was almost time! It had been a week since Willy had been out, bouncing around happily in Lady Haley?s teasing fingers, and 105 days since he?d been allowed to have a ?Squirtie?.God,...

Foster Daughter

Ms. Troy sighed heavily. Sarah had been brought to her four years ago. Her mother had died of a d**g overdose and her father was nowhere to be found. Even at that young age, Sarah had seemed very mature, making her seem older than her thirteen years. Ms. Troy had thought it would be very easy to place such a well-mannered girl, but Sarah had proved to be more of a problem than she had first expected. Every family she was placed with eventually called, asking that Sarah be taken away, with no...

Vegas WeekendChapter 2 Friday Hop on the Bus

(Friday early afternoon) "Do we have everyone?" Jim Keegan asked, turning around to see if he could account for the entire party. A useless wave of "I'm here"s flooded over his ears. "Okay, okay," he said holding up his hands. "I'm just going to get confused here unless we do this sensibly. Hush, hush. Everyone quiet." He counted off one finger. "First, there's my family. My loving wife Denise?" "I'm here, honey." Denise had dark, shoulder-length hair, large beautiful...

A Weekend In Sweden Part 3

The house was quiet as I walked down the stairs. It was still dark outside even though it was past nine in the morning. As I crossed the parquet floor heading for the kitchen I felt a dull ache in my ass. I was still hurting from the previous day’s anal sex with Stefan. It had been lovely ones I got over the initial pain and shock of being penetrated by such a big cock in my tiny hole. Eva had been a great help, guiding and supporting me through the experience. I turned on the light in the...

My Life So Far

* * * * * I never cared if these letters were true or not & I don't care if you believe mine, but here it is anyway: Back in '97 my best friend, my dog, died. He was 2 weeks shy of his 16th birthday(which made him about 382 in dog years!) I was feeling really bummed out around the holidays (he loved mooching turkey from me and I missed him, a lot) so I went for a late night bike ride. I ended up at a local yuppie hangout. I sat at the bar, nursing the same milk-shake all night, (did I...

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