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what I had chosen to do but not what it was doing to me.

CHAPTER FOUR
    I had a meeting at 9:00 a.m. sharp Monday morning, and as I got in the office, my clients had arrived, and Samantha had prepared their portfolio for me. With nothing else to say as she handed me my things, I went on my way into the conference room.
    Again, I wasn’t fazed, and I wasn’t hurt or angry with her; I just didn’t care.
    Marcus joined me in the meeting and watched me carefully as I gave my projections and proposals for our latest undertaking. The multimillion dollar account would make up for some of the losses we had suffered throughout the year. Marcus made sure to impress up on me that this account was crucial to the company’s future, but I felt for the first time in my life that my ability to hold a room had changed. I no longer exuded self-confidence and sex appeal that once drew business men and women to anticipate my every syllable. Now I relied on plain words and black-and-white numbers alone. My insecurities poured out of me as I stumbled on my words and felt shaky with the information I gave the clients. And unfortunately in this arena, you don’t just sell the numbers and the business. You sell the person who is handling the business!
    I pushed forward with whatever little I had left in me—but it wasn’t much.
    Two hours later, after tedious and mind-numbing proposals, Marcus concluded our meeting. “Thank you all for your time today. We’ll meet again next week, and we will have the list of prospective angel investors for you.”
    The clients left in single file, but Marcus remained seated and stiff. “Eva, stay a minute.” The tone of his voice and inability to look at me in the face told me that this wouldn’t be a pleasant conversation.
    I sat beside Marcus, fumbling nervously with my pen, and waited for everyone to leave. And as the last person was out, the door closed us in.
    “What the hell happened to you?” Marcus asked in sheer anger.
    “Happened to me? I don’t understand. I thought the meeting went well,” I said, growing nervous as I responded with an inclination that he wasn’t referring to the meeting.
    “Do I look stupid? What the hell has happened to you in the last two weeks? I’m not going to ask you again.” Marcus’s irritation with me shot through him, and the pencil he held snapped in half, jolting me in my seat. “You spend your days locked in your office. You come in late, leave early, and you look like you are starving yourself.”
    “Marcus, what is this about? I’m sorry I don’t know what you mean.” And as I tried to stand, Marcus grabbed my wrist and turned my arm over, and I shook from the pain.
    “What the fuck is on your arm? Who did—did Michael do this to you?” Marcus pushed up the sleeve of my blouse as I tried to pull away.
    “Marcus, stop it. This is none of your business. And Michael didn’t do anything to me that I didn’t ask for. Now let me through,” I begged, insistent on keeping my shame within me. I tried to move past him as my eyes began to sting, but I couldn’t allow myself to cry again. I couldn’t land in the misery that I had suffered to get away from.
    “You asked him to hurt you? What is happening to you? Why are you doing this? Eva, I can’t let him do this to you. You are not a helpless fucking victim. What’s gotten into—wait, are you doing this because of Alexander? Do you think that this will make you forget him, is that it? Wait, does Alexander know you are into this?” Marcus shouted, stepping closer to me, now turning his expression of anger into sheer pity.
    “No, it has nothing to do with him, and don’t you dare tell him. I just…” And bracing myself against the table, I told Marcus what had happened. I told him that the void created by my determined loss of Alexander was fulfilled by the pain inflicted on me as I sacrificed my body for having been weak and cowardly. I explained that my only self-defense in life had been