After one hour of jogging up and down the hospital stairs, breathless and sweaty, Jennifer collapsed on the couch in Dr. Baker's office. It felt good though. The exercise had driven away all thought and provided a brief respite from the memories of what Lawrence had done or the images that Jack had described.

Jennifer liked the sensation of feeling exhausted and downed a tall glass of water that Dr. Baker offered her.

Dr. Baker wasn't going to let her off the hook though, "When you catch your breath and gather your thoughts, let's pick up where were left off. Finish your previous thought. Who would you be betraying if you went home to Jack's place tonight?"

Jennifer still didn't answer and Dr. Baker realized that would be a very difficult truth for Jennifer to acknowledge. "Yourself?" Dr. Baker pressed. "Kayla?"

"I'm not trying to be difficult. I know I promised to think about it, but I just can't explain it right now."

"You don't need to worry about being difficult. It's okay. This is for you; not for me. I'm pursuing it because it might help you, but we can table that discussion for another day-once you've had some time to process everything that Jack said on your own. Let's not talk about Jack today. Can you tell me who you have told about the rape?"

"Jack."

"But you didn't tell Jack. If I understand correctly, he found out from his brother Steve who learned it accidentally."

"Well, yes," Jennifer conceded, "But I did tell Jack, in excruciating detail, everything that…Lawrence did."

"Besides Jack, who else do you think you could tell?"

"No one," she said immediately.

"No one else?"

Jennifer stopped and considered who else she might tell. Not Carly-she had willingly gone to bed with Lawrence, they had dated. And Carly felt guilty enough already for putting Lawrence within her life. She couldn't heap more guilt onto her. And she couldn't tell Alice. Alice wasn't well and she was her grandmother. Jennifer had a difficult enough time trying to talk about sex with her Grandma, she couldn't put these awful images into her head. Jennifer just couldn't do it. Not Frankie either, she knew it would be too difficult for him. He had feelings for her and would feel guilty too because he had lied about being Francois Von Leuschner. He knew that she married Lawrence to protect him. Even telling Melissa right now would be difficult as she was mourning Emilio.

"No. No one else," Jennifer answered.

Dr. Baker wanted to see if a suspicion was correct. "The people in your life that you don't think you could tell, is it because you don't think they would be a help to you or do you believe you would be too much of a burden to them."

Jennifer balked at both of Dr. Baker's suggestions, "Neither. Telling them would hurt them too much. I want to spare them. I don't want Carly or Frankie to feel responsible and my grandmother-well, she's my Grandma. I would no more want to talk to her about this than I would tell her what sexual positions I prefer."

"That's a misguided analogy, Jennifer," Dr. Baker said. "Rape has nothing to do with sex. That man didn't rape you because of sexual desire. Why did he?"

Jennifer remembered back to the lecture she got from Lawrence the morning after-that she had played a dangerous game and gotten off easy. "Control. Power. To show that he could," Jennifer answered. She remembered his blackmail attempt back here in Salem, "Money."

Dr. Baker's eyes grew wide when Jennifer said 'money.' That was an unheard of motive for her.

"You're not to blame. And I think if you tell other people, then you will realize that you're not to blame even more than you've already realized it with Jack. You will see that what you're worried about right now will not turn out to be true. You will realize that most people won't feel guilty for some imagined contribution to putting you in that situation. They will feel hurt for you and angry at him."

"But I don't want them to feel hurt for me," Jennifer replied.

"Why not?"

"Because I care about them, of course. I don't want them to get hurt or feel hurt…because of me," Jennifer replied in a near-testy tone like she was speaking self-evident truths. It should be as obvious to anyone as saying water is wet.

"Aren't you worth it?" Dr. Baker pressed.

That question surprised Jennifer. Am I worth it? "I suppose so, but that's not something one should answer for oneself. That's for other people to decide for themselves."

"Well, you know these people, so tell me what they would say. For example, would Jack say you are worth it?"

Oh yes. "Definitely."

"Frankie? "

"Yes."

"Your grandma?"

"Yes."

"Your cousin," she consulted her notes, "Melissa?"

"Yes,"

"Your parents?"

That stopped Jennifer. She hoped so. She wanted to believe so. "They have their own issues," Jennifer said. That was the best she could manage about them. "Look, it's not my mother's fault. She can't help the way she is." Jennifer switched her weight back and forth on the sofa. She was not expecting this to transform into parental issues. "I'd rather not talk about them."

Dr. Baker didn't want it to drop so easily. "Jennifer, we all deal with traumas in different ways and each different way is okay. I'm just here to help facilitate you climbing over any walls that you might have constructed in your mind that might make things more difficult for you. Perhaps I can offer you an alternative perspective.

Jennifer didn't say anything more; she didn't want to address her parents. She knew she must be exasperating to Dr. Baker and felt bad about that. She didn't want to answer her question from earlier about 'betrayal', she didn't want to talk about her parents.

Dr. Baker tried a different tack. "Tell me about someone that you don't get along with."

Jennifer was confused by the question, "There's Lawrence. I don't get along with him."

"Besides him, who do you seem to always butt heads with?"

"Well, there's Eve."

Eve sounded more promising to Dr. Baker. "Why don't you get along with her?"

"Why?"

"Well, sometimes it is easier to see some aspects of ourselves through the unfiltered eyes of someone we don't get along with. Sometimes, their honesty can be refreshing and more illuminating than those close to us who would never want to hurt our feelings. So, with that in mind, can you explain why you two don't get along?"

"Well, she does underhanded, sneaky things and she accuses me of being Miss Perfect."

"What do you think she means by that?"

"I don't know. Manners and decency are lost on her I guess."

"Yes. And obviously no one is perfect. But from what you're saying, she calls you 'Miss Perfect' because you hold things back and don't say every thought in your head because you're considering the other person's feelings. And that's all well and good. However, I'd like you to consider in this instance if you aren't taking it too far and perhaps closing yourself too much from other people because you are thinking about their feelings more than your own." Dr. Baker leaned forward, "Jennifer, now more than ever, you need to take care of yourself and you can rely on the people around you. People want to support you. You were concerned about whether Jack would be able to do that when he learned the truth, weren't you?"

Jennifer nodded.

"And has that proven true?"

"No, he's been great. He's really helped me."

"Give your other friends and family a chance to prove themselves too. They want to help you, I'm sure. Your friends and family love you and won't abandon you."

Jennifer started feeling dread again with Dr. Baker's direction, "Is this about my parents again?"

Dr. Baker decided it best to end the session. "Jennifer, between now and our next session, I want you to think about it and tell at least one person that you trust about what you have gone through. Okay?"

Jennifer nodded. She thought she could handle that.

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Jack arrived home at the penthouse that evening. He had been torn between going to the Cheating Heart and drinking or just coming to the penthouse. He decided he didn't want to see people so he came here. It was tough walking through the door. It would be the first night that he spent here without her and already the place felt cavernous and empty. With her, it was home. Without her, it was just a penthouse and he'd never call it a home otherwise unless she was here with him.

Of course he expected this. He knew that she wouldn't wave it off, dismiss it like it was nothing after hearing his full unvarnished truth. What else did he expect her to say after hearing his monstrous truth? 'Let's go home and cuddle'?

Jennifer was scared; she was apprehensive; she was reticent. Jack knew all that. But what else was she? Was she disgusted? Was she revolted? Was she resolved to never let him touch her again?

As a woman, how could Jennifer hear him describe all the sickening things he had done-forcing up another woman's dress, holding her down, forcing another woman to have sex with the full knowledge that it was rape-and not feel sick?

Jack went out onto the balcony of the penthouse; he needed to feel the cold air. He started to huddle up to protect against the cold and he wanted to fight against that instinct. He could see his breath and started shivering. He turned up his collar and spread his arms wide feeling the wind on his palms, which sent tingles up his arms and to his spine. He just needed to open up and accept whatever life sent his way. Fate had been incredibly kind to him this last year-too kind. Better than he deserved.

He wanted to stay out here a while. The stars already were blanketing the night sky.

He spotted Orion, the hunter, close to the horizon, almost due east. He scanned the western sky and spotted Scorpio, Orion's eternal nemesis. The two were locked in an timeless struggle, always destined to circle each other around the heavens. They would never come to a resolution; one would never be victorious, the other never defeated. He projected that battle back onto himself. And wondered how long his heroic, loving side would have to continue fighting with his inner demons.

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Jennifer arrived home at the loft. She set down her purse on the kitchen counter and stopped to look around the place. She hadn't been home, really home, except for a mad dash in and out to grab some clothes for almost two weeks. She scanned the loft; Jack was everywhere. There were hundreds of memories of Jack all over the loft-most good, many funny, many poignant or romantic, a few that were heartbreaking.

She looked at one section of the floor. This is where he kissed her when he had the painters remodeling the place to throw Victor off Isabella's track. Jennifer's glance shifted. That is where he sat when he gave her the Hope Chest on Christmas Eve and that's where he stood when he proposed as Santa Claus. This is where they bickered about what they were packing for the Loretta cruise. That's where she caught him singing 'The Girl from Ipanema.' That is where he stood when he yelled at her, 'Who were you talking about if you weren't talking about me?!' after she had slapped him and called him a rapist.

And there was the couch.

She didn't want to mull over the ramifications of the other couch-Kayla's couch.

She knew, she knew now the havoc he had wrought upon Kayla's life. How could she treat it as nothing? She did love Jack; she loved him with her whole heart, but did that imply to Kayla or to the world in general that she thought what he had done meant nothing?

Was she betraying herself as a person or as a woman by loving Jack? Was she betraying Kayla? Could she move forward with Jack knowing everything he had been and everything he represented even though that was not him anymore?

She hoped she could. She wanted her life with Jack. But wanting and having were two different things. There was a wall between them now. She needed to take some time and just stare at the wall, knowing that Jack and their future was on the other side. Jennifer needed to decide what to do about that wall.

She remembered her now-beloved passage from Romeo and Juliet. Now beloved because Jack had quoted it to her when he proposed and then again in the Heart after he learned she had been raped. The passage was all about walls and boundaries and overcoming those obstacles.

With love's light wings did I o'erprch these walls,

For stony limits cannot hold love out,

And what love can do, that dares love attempt.

All the walls that she and Jack had needed to overcome during their courtship had been of his creation or external ones. She had never thrown down roadblocks and had never determinedly turned away from him. She was amazed that after everything she had gone through just to be with him that she was finding herself in that position now.

She had also been thinking about her private discussions with Dr. Baker. She had hinted that Jennifer was hiding, hindering her recovery because she was too scared-not of people's reactions-but too scared of 'inconveniencing' them and causing them too much worry. And that fear was possibly a holdover of thinking she might have been too much of an inconvenience for her parents.

She had for weeks after she got home from Lawence's country tried to swallow her emotions, tried to deny that anything was wrong. And she didn't just do that with Jack, but with everyone-including Melissa, her Grandma, Carly, and Frankie. She might have had one excuse or another to keep the truth from Jack, Carly, or her Grandma, but she really was straining beyond all reason to justify not telling Frankie or Melissa. By keeping it a secret, she had allowed Lawrence more access into her life because he knew that he could blackmail her and as long as he could blackmail her then she would never really be free of him. She delayed dealing with the rape and she knew that each day she delayed dealing with it or confronting it was another day that she delayed her healing and being able to resume her normal life.

She wondered if there was any truth to Dr. Baker's words. She had been fine, going through life great up until Lawrence. What he did, the havoc he wrought upon her life, would uproot anyone's existence, but she was having trouble telling people. She was having trouble truly expressing her feelings, preferring to push them down and deny them instead. Very rarely, probably only that once in the cabin did she every show anger. Jack had playfully pinned her down trying to get back his pen and it sent her reeling back to the rape. She yelled for a brief moment and then had to escape for a walk. Was this the way she dealt with things that were too difficult? She had barely even acknowledged let alone dealt with Emilio's death and they were almost married!

Was she reacting in a way to minimize the 'trouble' she caused other people out of a subconscious worry that they would abandon her in a bus station or ship her off to boarding school? Did she stifle her feelings and her emotions because she needed to keep a tight grip and not dissolve into a puddly mess and slip down into madness like her mother? Was she really making herself into a non-entity by denying her feelings, denying her anger, and not allowing other people to help her?

She swam through the dangerous thoughts looking for the safe harbours amid the storm in her mind-the lighthouses, the fixed points that she could always count on. She knew she had several friends, but two people stood out over all the rest-her Grandma and Jack.

Jack. Despite everything, she knew she could rely on him…always.

Jennifer looked to the stairs, remembering Jack was in her bedroom too. They had made love in her bedroom a few times after they returned from the island. She dreaded mounting the stairs though, knowing that, without Jack, her nightmares would inevitably return.

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Pale light shone through uncurtained windows in Jack's bedroom. He had taken Steve's advice and decided to go to Europe to investigate Alamain's past there. He wasn't about to return to Lawrence's country though. He knew that Lawrence had friends highly placed in the government and was worried that if he returned there, then the customs and immigration people would not let him leave, or worse, manufacture some excuse to lock him away in prison. Jack was flying to Europe later that day after his appointment with Dr. Baker and wanted to bank as much rest as possible; however, sleep was evading him like truth had so many times in his life. Still not wanting to wake up, he turned away from the window only to see Jennifer's vacant half of the bed. So he flipped back to face the window. He repeated the sequence several times before groaning in frustration and tossed over to his stomach.

Jack spent the morning clearing his desk at the Spectator of all necessary decisions before he flew overseas. He had a lunchtime appointment with Dr. Baker and then the limousine was going to drive him to Chicago for his flight. It was quicker that way than going to the Salem airport and dealing with layovers.

He wasn't really dreading his talk with Dr. Baker; the damage was already done. The worst already said. Besides, he was too focused and concentrating on other tasks to worry. It was just on his checklist of things. He'd promised to follow up and he'd promised in front of Jennifer. He would keep the appointment, if only to say truthfully to Jennifer that he had.

At lunchtime, Jack sauntered into Dr. Baker's office. Actually, he almost swaggered. Dr. Baker gave a passing worry that he might be drunk from his demeanor. But she didn't need to smell his breath, she knew he was just covering up for his deep-seated anxiety and the false bravado was all a cover for how much he was worried and scared about the long-term ramifications of his confession the day before.

He plopped into a seat, but his nervous energy didn't allow him to stay there long, so he quickly rose up again and circled the office like a caged tiger. "Tell me doctor. What did you think? Now that the long strip tease of these therapy sessions is over and I stand before you completely exposed and with all secrets revealed. Everything hidden has now come to light. Come on doctor. Judge me."

Dr. Baker would not mirror his behavior, she responded evenly, professionally, "I'm not here to judge. I'm here to guide."

"I'm not asking you to guide. I'm asking you to speak. Think. Speak about what you think."

"I thought it was sad. I thought it was sad that you could do that to your life."

Jack rolled his eyes; that was not the truth. It might be the non-threatening, non-illuminating, non-helpful answer that a therapist is expected to give, but it wasn't the truth. "Oh, come now doctor. Of all the people in this whole sad story, I'm the last person you should feel sorry for." Jack paused and poked his chest. "I'm NOT the victim here." Jack paced the room, his heart rate rising in indignation for everyone else, "Feel sorry for Kayla. Feel sorry for Jennifer. They're the real victims here. Feel sorry for my brother; he endured hell too, believe me I know now. Feel sorry for my mother for having a rapist as a son, but not me. Never me."

Dr. Baker kept her gaze measured and steady, "And yet I do. I feel sorry that you learned too late about your capacity for moral strength. I feel sorry on behalf of the decent man I have come to know over these last six months."

Jack stood here looking at her for a long moment. "Did Jennifer tell you she doesn't want to be with me anymore?"

Dr. Baker narrowed her eyes, "Jack you know I can't divulge anything that another patient says to me. Did she say that to you?"

Jack shook his head, "No, but I still understood her message well enough. She has been staying over with me and yesterday, she said she couldn't."

"Well, that doesn't sound the same as 'she doesn't want to be with you anymore.' Why don't you wait and see if that is what really happens. Do you want to talk about Jennifer's reaction after what you said yesterday?"

Jack shook his head. He'd done enough soul-bearing already this week. He couldn't handle anymore. Besides, he only came to this session to say he had done it. He didn't want to actually…talk…about important things.

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The sun reached its zenith as Jennifer arrived at the front door of the Horton house. Jennifer was taking an extended lunch break from WATB; she was doing the late news tonight at the station so Dan was fine with her not reporting back until 3:00 p.m. She knew that her Grandmother wasn't at the hospital today and her grandfather probably was. She preferred it that way for the conversation she wanted to have.

Tentatively, she knocked at her grandmother's door. It took a moment, but Alice opened the door, traces of flour on her apron. Jennifer smiled; it was doughnut-making day. Zebra stripes of light peered in through the blinds, providing scant illumination in the foyer.

"Is this a good time?" Jennifer asked, careful to appear calm and collected in case her grandpa was home or the doughnuts were about to go in the fryer.

"Of course. Perfect timing actually. The doughnuts are still warm if you want one." Alice answered back; she had been concerned about Jennifer ever since their talk in the hospital break room a few weeks back. Ever since, Jennifer had not wanted to divulge anything more to her and Alice had respected that, but always kept the doughnuts ready and waiting just in case a day like today ever came.

"Is grandpa here?"

"No, it's just us."

That broke down all of Jennifer's barriers. She reached out and captured Alice in a long hug and she started to cry. "I need you Grandma," she confessed.

Alice was expecting this, but dreading it all the same, dreading to have her worst fears confirmed. She began slowly, measuredly, cutting the silence as carefully as with a scalpel. "What's wrong my child?"

Jennifer pulled out of the hug but stayed close. She kept her head down; her eyes stayed focused on her lap. "I'm hurting," she admitted. It was tough for her to start this way-to tell her feelings first instead of just saying what had happened. "Lawrence hurt me. He forced me to..."

Jennifer couldn't say the words, but she had said enough for Alice. She finished her sentence for her, "He raped you." Her voice was gentle and compassionate.

Jennifer wanted to draw up into herself, make herself small. The air around was feeling oppressive, compressing, like it was pushing her and creating this enormous pressure all around her that she just couldn't fight against. Slowly, she nodded. Still this was tough for Jennifer; she knew her grandmother had seen a lot and endured a lot. Her grandmother could help her and give her the advice and support she needed. Her grandmother's life wasn't all apple pie and doughnuts. But still, Jennifer felt guilty for bringing this to her grandmother's door.

Sex was never an easy topic to discuss, but then Jennifer reminded herself that this wasn't about sex. This was about violence; this was about attacking someone and humiliating them in the worst way, the most degrading way, the most personal way possible. With rape, sex was only the means—not the end.

Alice lifted up Jennifer's chin with her finger to look into her eyes, "This wasn't your fault; I hope you know that."

Jennifer nodded; she knew that in her head, but she had been blaming herself, questioning her actions for so long now that her doubt still easily crept in. It felt amazing that was usually one of the first things people say—'You are not to blame' in order to contradict one of the first things that rape victims think—'she is to blame.' Is that reaction, that belief instinctual—almost automatic? Is blaming the rape victim something done by society, by the rapist, by a combination? There almost seems to be like there is a recipe for getting past rape—1) acknowledge you're not to blame, 2) take charge of your life, 3) get intimate again with the boyfriend. Obviously that was simplifying it down some, but it almost seemed as rote and as regimented as Alice Horton's procedure for making doughnuts.

"I know," Jennifer said, finally looking up at grandmother.

Alice already suspected this truth, "It was at his villa?"

Jennifer nodded. "You're the first person I've told—who didn't know already. I just really needed you to know. It's been really hard for me. Far harder than I thought anything could be and I tried so hard and for so long to pretend that it didn't matter. No more substantive than a bad date or someone making a pass at me. But it wasn't like that, Grandma, it wasn't like that at all."

Jennifer buried her face in her hands and then fell against Alice's chest once more. Alice wrapped her arms around her, holding her tight. Alice may have lacked physical strength, but she possess mental and emotional strength equivalent to ten armies. She put all that strength into her arms and tried to pass that to Jennifer to make her feel secure, loved, and validated.

Alice's intentions were working for Jennifer. She let them stay like that; feeling wrapped securely in her grandmother's arms. "He stole so much from me. I don't think I'll ever be the same person again and I don't know if I feel comfortable with this person I'm transforming into."

"He can't steal you; what make you fundamentally you. That will not change because of this, I promise you that."

Jennifer didn't want to argue with her grandmother, but Alice wasn't in possession of all the facts. "He's taking Jack from me. Jack means everything to me and I'm struggling now with how to continue on with him. I never would have doubted him if Lawrence, if Lawrence hadn't…hurt me. Jack knows. He found out by accident and he's been terrific, better than I ever could have imagined. He's my real, true, honest-to-God hero. And yet… And yet…. And it's so hard trying to get past what Lawrence did and then coupling that with Jack and me."

Alice pulled back out of the hug. She needed to look at Jennifer. She agreed that Jennifer's recovery from being raped shouldn't be tied and coupled with her relationship with Jack, but right or wrong they were inexorably linked.

Alice knew that an essential part of Jennifer's healing would need to include forgiving Jack and reconciling with Jack. "Look at me. This will be a difficult test for you two. Probably one of the greatest tests of your relationship. Hopefully the worst one of your relationship because I hope that life spares you any further heartache. Jack is no different now than when you first fell in love with him. You will get through this. You are an amazing, strong, self-assured woman who knows what you want from life. Six months ago you knew you wanted Jack and were confident enough in that and you were right. You'll get that confidence back."

Alice paused and ran her fingers through Jennifer's golden hair, "Lawrence stole time—he stole these last months from your life and I hope he won't steal much more of your time. Lawrence stole knowledge about you that should ever only be given. Lawrence did not steal who you fundamentally are as a person and he did not steal your future. Whether that future includes Jack is up to you, but I think your heart will remember what it knew before Lawrence ever stole anything from you."

Jennifer nodded, trying to process it all and just reveling in the comfort that only her grandmother could provide.

Jennifer still didn't know how Jack could have done it. How could he have humiliated Kayla like that? How could he have degraded her, used her, violated her? Made another woman feel anything close to what she was enduring now? How could he? She knew she could never ask him that. But still, how could he have ever done that and still have become the person she knew now? The two images, the two men just didn't fit together. She didn't know if she could ever reconcile the two images. She didn't want to convict Jack though; she didn't want to take out her anger towards Lawrence on him. But still she was at a loss of how to move forward with him, knowing the truth now, combating against the truth now.

She was struggling with the comparison, even though she knew it wasn't fair. Jack was nothing like Lawrence! Even from his description and she knew Jack put the most honest, least charitable, least self-serving spin on his actions from that night and she truly respected him for that. He could have equivocated; he could have left it with the Gone with the Wind analogy and ended it there. But still, even in the version that he told then he was definitely not as diabolical or cruel as Lawrence had been. And yet, rape is still rape. Kayla's hell was really no different from Jennifer's so does it really matter if Jack was different from Lawrence?

Jennifer needed answers; needed guidance; needed to know not only that there was hope but that there was justification for hope as well.