Miraculously, we finished moving everything. Unpacking would be yet another Herculean task, but one we could spend two days doing. Michael and I were taking a tour (neither of us had yet seen the whole house). This was a fact that Michael, channeling earlier versions of himself, I imagined, did not hesitate to point out.

Debbie and Carl had gone home (it was past their 'bedtime' Debbie had said. I was trying REALLY HARD not to understand what she meant). Emmett, Brad, and Ted had already headed off to Babylon. Daphne and Molly were in their new rooms readying their beds (they still had cots, so no assembly was required. Brian had promised to take them bed shopping the next day) and unpacking. Brian and Ben were outside taking the last remaining pieces of furniture out of the truck.

As we started walking through the house, Michael asked, eyes wide, "Brian rented this house without asking your opinion first?"

After a full thirty seconds, I answered simply, "Yes." I almost jumped into a defense—rattling off excuses: we had a bit of a time crunch with the social worker's impending visit; Molly, Daphne, and Brian all know my taste and decided together; Brian was shaken by the evaluator's interview and needed to make himself useful (and busy) to prevent his indulging in other coping mechanisms…but then I thought, "Why?"

Why did I always feel I needed to justify everything in my relationship to other people? If I continued to do that, I would be just as bad as Brian in the first two years of our relationship. As bad as me during the same time frame. Brian was NOT only as desirable or cool as his reputation on Liberty. And I was NOT only as loved (by Brian) as my friends and family thought I was. My relationship was NOT only as strong as my friends and family thought it was. Perception meant diddly-squat. I knew that now. I felt bad that it had taken trying to get custody of Molly to really drive this home for me. Everything was about perception in this process. The intervention Michael and Daphne had held by itself should have made me realize completely and forever that I shouldn't have to constantly defend Brian and my relationship. That I could just NOT and let people think what they wanted to think. I KNEW better. And it was my life, so that's all that mattered.

Michael was shocked to say the least at my answer. He just gaped. For many uncomfortable minutes.

Looking around though, I had to say, Brian, Molly, and Daphne had done well. I wasn't sure I could have found a better house myself. It was a ginormous Victorian that could have been the setting for any number of scary stories. It looked half castle! It had all these tall, elongated windows, a front and side porch, AND a TOWER room, which Brian said I should use, in addition to the attic, for painting and drawing (the room door was a few feet from the attic door). In addition to the finished basement, the house had FIVE bedrooms (one on the main floor, four on the floor above that), and four bathrooms (although only two had bathtub/showers). No longer having to share a bathroom with Molly and Daphne was definitely a high point.

I just ignored Michael. I didn't even comment on the house because he might have seen that as an attempt to defend Brian. When we got back down to the main floor, I suggested that he open the bottle of wine Brian had bought to celebrate a job well done. I went outside to check on Ben and Brian's progress. Or maybe I just needed to be near Brian. It was pitch black out (except for the dim light of the crescent moon). Looked like they'd finished moving the furniture in and were now in the front yard talking. Brian was leaning against an oak tree in the front yard smoking and talking to Ben. I smiled and almost announced myself. But then Brian started talking (or more likely continued talking).

His voice was husky. "I KNEW I was fucked up. And I was always sca-" Brian stopped abruptly and cleared his throat. "And I was always worried I might end up like Jack … but Christ, she made me sound like a potential serial killer." Brian's voice broke on the last few words.

It took everything in me NOT to walk up to Brian and pull him into my arms. Sometimes I hated Brian's need to be so strong for me. I wanted so much to make his pain go away.

Ben squeezed Brian's shoulder. "She wouldn't say that if she knew you better. She only knows what she can see, what's documented. Psychopaths can't feel. They have no empathy. That couldn't be farther from the truth for you. You've done a really good job pretending not to feel … to the point that many of the people who know you don't REALLY know you. An unfortunate consequence of building walls to protect yourself or to protect the people you care about FROM you."

Brian dropped his voice to almost a whisper. I had to move a bit closer to hear. "What if she's right about the violence? I mean, you saw …"

Ben's responses made me think back to when I first started having the nightmares. I hadn't been able to tell Brian, so I had turned to Daphne. In fact, there were some things I still struggled to tell him. I couldn't always let him see me at my weakest, either. I loved Brian so much in this moment. He'd asked Daphne to live with us, at least temporarily, because he knew I wouldn't always be able to tell him everything. He wanted me to have every support.

Ben interrupted Brian. He had not moved his hand from Brian's shoulder. He gave it another squeeze. "NO. Just no. You hurt yourself, inanimate objects, and bullies. Not the innocent. THOSE you protect. I won't lie. You have a lot of rage inside you. OF COURSE you have a lot of rage inside of you. THAT is a natural reaction to injustice, unfairness – feeling helpless to protect yourself and the people you love. I think the one good thing the evaluator said was that you should take up boxing. I don't think you'll ever be able to make that rage go away. But if you let it out regularly, it won't sneak up on you when you're feeling stressed, when you're at your weakest. I actually know a gym where they have tournaments and coaches. We could both join. I've always kind of wanted to punch you in the face."

Brian laughed. "Asshole." But then more quietly, he said, ''Okay."

That's when I decided to let my presence be known. I moved back to the porch and then shouted, "Hey! This wine's not going to drink itself!"

Ben smiled at me. "We'll be right in."

Brian nodded but didn't turn around. I stood there for a moment. I could see half his profile in the moonlight. He had his hand over his eyes. My chest hollowed out. I really needed to come up with a spectacular role playing idea.