At around 1pm, I woke from a nap to an empty bed. I stretched, smiling at being sore all over. I nibbled at some cold Chinese food on the nightstand that we had shared sometime that morning. I stretched again, catlike, pondering what I would do to Michael when he came back to bed. I called out to him in my best purring, seductive voice. He came into the room and sat on the edge of the bed. I reached up and stroked his chest. "Come on back to bed. It is awfully cold and big and lonely in here without you," I teased. I pulled him towards me, into the bed. "Now, MY turn," I said. "I have a few surprises up my sleeve, too, you know." I pulled at him again, finally realizing that he was not playing along. "Hey! Come on - get in this bed, would you? You started this, and now I am going to finish..." My words trailed off into silence as I looked into his cold eyes.

"Lisanne," he started, sighed, and stood. "When I told you how enthralled I was with the condition of the office, it's apparent I wasn't aware of just how much cleanup you had accomplished, no?" he started. He turned back towards me and pointed at me. "It was just lovely how you carefully sorted out my bills and letters, and put all my junk mail in a nice little stack. It was so nice of you to clean out my voicemail and Caller ID, too! It is so nice to know we have such a strong, trusting relationship, isn't it, Lisanne? Did you open and reseal the frigging envelopes, too? Did you break into my file cabinet and dig through that? Did you Lisanne??!"

I was horrified. I never imagined that Michael would feel violated - I never gave much thought to any feelings but my own. I was so concerned with my own betrayal that I never considered that Michael would feel betrayed by me. He stalked across the room and dug in his sock drawer. He spun back and threw a small, brass key tied to a white shoelace onto the bed. "Here, Lisanne. Just in case you didn't break into the cabinet yet, here's the key. It will make your life easier. Have at it. Go through everything if it will make you feel better - that is, if you haven't already.

"Have you? Have you gone through all of my things, Lisanne??? What a devious, manipulating bit - ah nevermind. Don't you any questions for me, Lisanne? Or do you just do all your investigation surreptitiously, arriving at your own conclusions? Don't you want answers to all the little goodies you found, Lisanne? Don't I have a lot of fucking explaining to do, Lisanne?"

I was at a total loss for words. I was awash in cold fear. When Michael stormed to the bed and sat, I literally flinched. I thought he was going to hit me. I started to stammer. "Michael, I am so sorry!" I wailed. "I never intended to snoop, I promise you that! I went in to get the mail, then sorted it, and your Caller ID was bugging me - "

"Bugging you?!?!" he burst out laughing sarcastically. "Oh, please, Lisanne. You're quicker on your feet than that. You could've come up with something better than 'bugging you' - Christ!!" He shook his head. "So, you gonna fess up, or what? To what extent was your little fishing expedition, Lisanne? How much of my stuff was 'bugging you'?" He stared at me coldly.

"I looked at your Caller ID. I - I admit that, Michael. I sorted your mail. I did not open one single envelope. I did not throw away any of your other mail. Your side was a total mess. I cleaned it up." I stopped and thought carefully. "I checked your voicemail. You had none. I looked at each entry on the Caller ID. You had a lot of calls from Paul Anderson. You also had a few calls from that Tammy whatever at your old job. I was going to ask you about both of them, but you distracted me. I never looked in your files or at your mail. I did not listen to any saved voicemail." I added pensively, "I never even thought about saved voicemail. I thought about looking at your credit card statements, but I did not open a single piece of mail. I was in an emotional frenzy, and had an afternoon of frightful suspicions. I was going to ask you about it -"

Michael stood. "Yeah, right, Lise, you were going to ask me about it. I'm sure that was top on your list of priorities." He picked up the key, grabbed my hand, and pushed the key into my palm, hard. "Take this fucking key, Lisanne. Go and look in the files! Do it now! This is your one opportunity to find out whatever it is you're looking for. If you want to be in all my business, at least have the courtesy of doing it in my face, Lisanne. Let's go! Now!" He grabbed my wrist and pulled at my arm.

"No, Michael, stop!" I cried. "Please! Do not do this to us!"

"Don't do this to us?" he repeated, incredulously. "Who is doing what to whom, Lisanne? Correct me if I'm wrong, but I'm feeling kind of like the fuckee at the moment. Now let's go. You're going through those files now. You're going to open all my mail, you'll scrutinize my bills. You're going to read every Goddamn word of every letter. And then I'm packing it all up and getting it the Hell out of here. And I'll probably go with it, Lisanne. This relationship is nothing now. I -- I thought we had trust. I know now you haven't trusted me, and obviously, I can't trust you. Jeez, too bad I had my laptop with me, huh, Lise?!? You could've cracked that code and discovered all kinds of other nasties. I'll make that easy for you, too. The password is 'Lisanne." Capital 'L.' Case sensitive." He pulled me up swiftly off the bed. He looked at me with pure hatred. He raised his hand up, as if to slap me, then dropped it quickly to his side when I flinched hard. "I've never, ever wanted to get physical with any woman, ever, Lisanne. And I want to just deck you right now," he said, resigned. "No woman has ever drawn that emotion out of me. I wonder about your relationship with your ex ... and how much of your abuse was self-inflicted..." I was shocked and stung by his words. He walked toward the doorway. "C'mon, Lisa, let's get this over with. Let's go, so I can get out of here." He stood, arms crossed, foot tapping impatiently.