Lifetime of Celebration

By Jeannette Hetfield

DISCLAIMER: This story is rated PG-13. I own nothing from either Mummy movies, not even Ardeth L . All of that is from the creative genius of Stephen Sommers and we Dedi fans all have Mr. Sommers to thank for creating such an incredible character, whom we all know and insanely love, namely Ardeth Bay. The characters you don't recognize are my creation and belong to me.

Please send all comments to me at [email protected]

Chapter 1

New York, February 1922, 5 years later

A light snow fell softly to the earth from an overcast sky. Icicles hung from the massive trees with an occasional droplet falling to the frozen ground. Little birds hopped from branch to branch looking for food to keep them full and warm during the bitter country weather. This part of New York was rather lonely for the large estate. It was the only home for thirty miles, but that suited the family just fine. They considered themselves to be living in their own little world. Tall wrought iron gates surrounded the one hundred-acre property and closed off at the paved road leading up to the front door. The road also wound around the home towards a garage that connected to the Tudor style manor. Stables of nothing but the finest breed of horses set just off to the right of the main house.

To many, this was the perfect setting for a cozy life in the quiet country, however, the only occupant in the house at the time, besides the servants, saw none of the beauty of the winter wonderland as she blankly stared through the window. The leafless trees looked deader with each passing day. Their dull bark added to the colorless atmosphere. The only color was the blue sky and even that, was hidden behind the clouds. As it was too cold for most animals, the quiet estate sounded and looked dead from the inside. She felt that way. Dead. Inside, she felt dead. Sometimes, she even looked like her very life had been taken from her. One frightening day, she was so utterly depressed that she considered just for a second, ending it all. Imagine, no more suffering, no more pain and no more tears, but then, her thoughts would drift back to the one person that had made her feel alive on the inside. Maybe they would see each other again. This thought kept her hopes kindled. His face appeared in her mind's eye and she knew she must regain her strength and win back her life.

Jensa was sad her first year back from Egypt, but had quickly adapted to life in New York. There wasn't time to dwell on anything else during her school studies. The years passed and she grew up into a young woman ready to take on the world.

She watched her fiancé, Lyle Boenker, pull up the driveway in his car from her bedroom window. Jensa loved this room. It was her sanctuary, the only place she truly felt at home and able to leave the pain outside the door. Here, she could be herself and dream of someday being happy again. It was a welcoming room with warm furnishings. Upon entering, the first thing seen is the tall canopied bed with a bedspread of blue and pink roses against a white background. To the right of the bed was a desk and chair that faced a window overlooking the front driveway. This was Jensa's favorite place to sit and read or write letters to friends. The windows were decorated with crushed, light blue velvet curtains and gold drawstring tassels. The plush carpet was the same shade as the curtains. In the far corner of the room was a whatnot with knickknacks followed by a chest of drawers that held her linens and undergarments. At the wall by the door to her room was a large cabinet housing the majority of her clothes. The foot of her bed was protected by a large oak chest containing blankets and keepsakes. The lid was hand-carved by her grandfather—-being one large rose and stem, and presented as a gift for her eighteenth birthday. Her vanity sat against the wall opposite the chest of drawers. A tiny chair set in the middle of the vanity, reflected in the large round mirror anchored to the wall. Her jewelry box, lotions, perfumes and silver hairbrush set adorned the vanity top. Another door to the right of the vanity led to her bathroom with a claw-footed porcelain tub sitting on a blue and white tiled floor. A cabinet mirror, sink, commode and white-washed oak cabinet that housed towels and washcloths were the only other items in the room.

Jensa sat in an oak chair by the other window in the room, staring blankly at the night stand with a lamp and Bulova clock by her bed. Most of the furniture in her room was oak, for it was her favorite. Cherry oak to be precise.

She was anxiously awaiting his arrival, but her anxiety was not the kind a woman should feel for her future husband. Jensa despised and feared Lyle. Why she didn't see how evil he was when she first met him was still a mystery to her. Around this time a year ago, he proposed and reluctantly, she accepted. Lyle was an arrogant jerk. He had always been that way, but there was an even darker side to his personality. Only Jensa ever saw it. Perhaps he showed it to her because he wanted her to know who would be the boss in their marriage.

It all started at some stupid business dinner. Her parents were still the debutantes they had always been, throwing lavish dinner parties at their New York estate in much the same way as they had in Egypt. Jensa's father and mother began pressuring her to settle down. Lyle and his father attended one of the dinners and Lyle was immediately drawn to Jensa's beauty…and financial ties. Mr. James noticed, with a satisfied feeling, Lyle staring at his daughter. This was the kind of man he wanted for Jensa. He could provide security for her instead of the desert man they had left behind in another country long ago. Since Lyle was a bachelor, who had appeared at the perfect moment, what better way to ensure his daughter's future than their union? Lyle was from a good family and would no doubt make a proper husband for his little girl. After the meal, Mr. James introduced Lyle to Jensa. The two of them were inseparable the rest of the night. Jensa's first impression of Lyle had been very good. He was handsome, funny, charming and interested in her, but even back then, she had to wonder if he was only interested because of her wealth. Lyle called the next day and took her driving through the country lanes. They spent the better part of the day getting to know each other.

Three weeks after she met Lyle, he proposed. She liked him, but had no feelings for him other than enjoying his company. That was hardly a foundation to start a marriage. She asked for time to think it over. Lyle was more than glad to oblige with only slight perturbation. He said he would wait until she was ready. Jensa mulled it over in her mind, and with added pressure from her father, she agreed to marry him. The engagement was set for one year later. It would take that long to plan the wedding and was going to be the social event of the year or the decade if Lyle had anything to say about it.

Both of her parents had given up on Michael to amount to anything. Time at the university helped none and he coasted his way through the courses, barely passing. He was still quite the avid drinker and had wound up starting a few fights. At the moment, Jensa wasn't exactly sure where Michael was. He had briefly mentioned, in one of his many drunken stupors, something about visiting their cousin Rick O'Connell in Chicago.

Rick had grown up being carted back and forth between orphanages in Chicago, a lot like her friend Kerri. The O'Connell family consisted of only Christopher and Leslie and their son Kirk. They never had any other children. Later on in their years, they took a trip to Cairo to visit the orphanages and fell in love when they set their eyes upon the adorably dimpled, blue-eyed boy. He was a strong and independent child, but loved his new family. He could not believe his good fortune. He had been in and out of orphanages since he was three years old. Rick never believed he would have a family. At eleven, he met three of the kindest people who really cared about his welfare. No one had ever cared before. Rick easily became one of the family. It was like he had always been there and he found he had a very large group of relatives. His adopted mother Leslie had a rather large Irish side of the family. Her brother Samuel and his family were as big-hearted as the O'Connells, although Rick and Michael occasionally butted heads. Rick couldn't believe how opposite Jensa was from her brother.

Jensa wished she could have gone with Michael. It had been much too long since they'd seen or heard from Rick. He probably wasn't even in Chicago anyway. The last bit of news from him was that he had joined the French Foreign Legion. Rick had always had such an adventurous spirit and was ready to take on the world. Well, wherever he was, Jensa hoped he was all right…and alive.

Michael is such a coward, she thought angrily, going off and leaving me to fend for myself. Jensa decided she wouldn't speak to Michael when he returned from this latest of his frequent jaunts. Michael hated Lyle just as much as she did. Unfortunately, it was too late when she realized Lyle's true nature. Jensa rubbed her bruised neck and shivered. Thank goodness it was February and still cold outside. The wool sweaters with high collars had been ideal to hide the painful bruises from everyone. The physical evidence had begun to fade, but the damage was done.

For some reason, her father couldn't see past the walking charade of Lyle. He saw him as a bright young man who had set high goals for himself. He had high goals all right: the James fortune. Lyle was a politician, and of course, the most common kind: a liar and a cheat. He hoped to one day be the governor of New York. Jensa was ready to pack her bags and move to another state if that happened. Of course, he needed a beautiful wife and two adorable children by his side to complete the picture. "The average American family who realized the average American Dream," she said facetiously. Jensa wrinkled her nose in disgust at the horrifying thought of having Lyle's children. Her stomach churned at such a gross picture.

If only she had refused Lyle's proposal! Oh, how different things might have been for her now! All of the pain and suffering could have been avoided, but she had made her bed and she must lie in it, but she would not lie in Lyle's bed. Jensa would rather die.

She definitely didn't want to marry Lyle. There had never been any kind of spark between them. Jensa knew it was what her father had wanted and she went along with it. Her agreement to marry Lyle surprised even her. Where had that defiant spirit gone? If this whole business with Lyle had happened in Egypt years ago, she knew she would have punched Lyle right in the nose and told him to take a hike. She often wondered if she left that defiance in Egypt. Maybe she left part of herself there. It had been horrible for so very long being away from her past and the life she lived in Cairo. Jensa had known true happiness in the foreign country and then it had all been ripped away from her.

Jensa, at one time, wished fervently that she would grow to love Lyle, but he was not the sort to believe in love. Lyle was an incredibly stolid person. He believed in money, fame and power. She hoped that if she could find a soft spot in Lyle's heart, she could forget about Ardeth Bay. Jensa smiled as his face floated across her mind's eye. So many times, she had tried to forget him because she didn't believe she would ever return to Egypt. She had promised Ardeth she would, but as of lately, it seemed like she would break her promise. If she married Lyle, she knew she would never get the chance. No matter how hard she tried, Ardeth was always there in her mind. She even became frustrated because he constantly dominated her thoughts. Trying to get over Ardeth was extremely difficult. He was not the kind of man any woman could ever truly forget. If Jensa was going to give marriage with Lyle a chance, she would have to push Ardeth out of her head and out of her heart, but it was not possible. Ardeth had stolen her heart long ago and she knew she would never get it back, but she didn't want him to give it back. Jensa wanted him to hold onto her heart with both of his strong and loving hands.

She often found herself comparing Lyle to Ardeth, but there was of course, no comparison. Lyle had straight, dark hair cut very close to his swelled head. He was around six feet tall and lean. Jensa never thought Lyle was very strong, but she had tasted the strength of his hands around her throat and was proven wrong. Every facial feature belonging to Lyle was cold. His thin lips contrasted greatly to the fullness she had once kissed. Ardeth had been her first kiss. It was the sweetest thing she had ever experienced. Jensa hated for Lyle to kiss her. It always felt lewd and more than unwanted. She kissed him back with a dutiful force. No spark had ignited when she first kissed Lyle, not like the passion of kissing Ardeth.

Lyle's eyes were blue, so blue in fact, they were nearly clear. Ardeth's chocolate gaze had always smiled with love and warmth when he looked at her. Anytime she felt uncomfortable, she knew it had to be Lyle staring at her. There was hate in his eyes for her and love for her money. He didn't mind marrying her one bit, though. After all, she was an attractive, well-endowed woman with money. Lyle was content to have his cake and eat it too. Michael would naturally inherit the vast portions of the estate, but she would receive her fair share. Jensa could picture Lyle rubbing his hands together in anticipation of the money coming his way. Well, Jensa was about to put her foot down, not a quality Lyle cared for. She had only two choices: freedom or a life of dictatorship with Lyle. Jensa inhaled deeply through her nose. Freedom was in the air this day.

She looked down at her engagement ring. Many people had admired it, but to her it was the ugliest monstrosity she had ever laid eyes on, next to Lyle. She shifted her gaze to her right hand and the empty finger a ring had once enveloped. Lyle noticed her wearing the silver ring Ardeth had given her and told her to take it off immediately. No future wife of his was going to wear a ring with a pagan symbol on it. She tried to explain to him that the ring wasn't pagan, it was a hieroglyph. Lyle backhanded her, sending her reeling into a chair. Now see what you made me do, he had said. He commanded her to take the ring off and get rid of it. Jensa cowered back in the chair and stared in shock at Lyle more than in pain. She hadn't seen it coming and chastised herself for not having seen sooner. The possessive attitude he had with her was frightening. Lyle was extremely jealous of her spending time with anyone else, lest he lose her. If he lost her, then he lost her money. Luckily, she found out in time what her future would hold if she went through with the wedding. It was only a few weeks away. If she made the slightest error in judgment, he would strike her and probably whatever children they had. Jensa would never bring a child into the world and have him grow up with a monster for a father.

Of course, Jensa never had any intention of getting rid of Ardeth's ring. She had rummaged through her jewelry case and found a plain sterling silver chain and slipped the ring onto it. If she couldn't wear it on her finger, she would wear it around her neck underneath her clothes.

A concise knock on her door could only mean it was Lyle. She stood up. "Come in, " she called in as pleasant a voice as she could muster. Lyle stepped through the doorway and surveyed her before saying anything. He was wearing a black winter coat, a white linen, long-sleeved shirt open at the neck, navy slacks and black loafers with tassels. His eyes roamed over her lewdly, lingering too long in certain areas and making her incredibly uncomfortable. She herself was in a black sweater with a turtleneck collar, black velvet skirt and black boots. Her hair, which had grown down past her hips, hung in long loose curls framing her round face.

"Hello, Jensa." He never used the pet name Jen. Lyle thought it too childish. He would. He put his arms around her and she winced. Her neck was getting well, but was still a bit sore. His thin rough lips touched hers, making her insides recoil. After the kiss ended, he stared down at her disapprovingly. "Not very responsive today."

"How is that different from any other day?" she shot at him.

"Jensa, Jensa," he scolded, "that is not the right attitude for a politician's wife." The chair by the window was Lyle's choice for a seat. He slithered into it and stared up her with cold eyes.

"How can you be so sure I'm going to marry you?" she said cautiously.

"Everyone knows we are going to get married. The announcement has been made in the paper, the invitations have been sent, two hundred and thirty-seven guests will witness the blessed event. We're getting married in just a few short weeks. Honey, it's a done deal." He reached into his coat pocket and produced a gold cigarette case and lighter to match. Taking one long drag, he blew the smoke straight at her. Jensa wrinkled her nose slightly.

"I'm not signing the marriage license in my blood, Lyle."

"You're just full of that charming wit I love so much."

"You don't love me, Lyle. You never have and I certainly don't love you. The only thing you love is my money." She straightened her posture, folded her arms defiantly and held up her head with her chin sticking out. "Well, I can say without a doubt that you won't get a single dime!!"

There! She had put her foot down and prayed he wouldn't step on it.

Lyle put the cigarette to his lips, deeply inhaling then put it out in the material on the arm of the chair. The fabric sizzled, sounding as if his cruel act caused it pain. He stood up and brought his face inches from hers. "I admire your ability to stand up for yourself, but that will end here and now. It would be most unsuitable for anyone to see you behave this way. No matter, I will mold you into the perfect wife."

His cigarette-ridden breath wrinkled her nose again as she stared up at him in disbelief. "Are you deaf? I will not marry you!" She yanked off the ring and stuffed it in his coat pocket. "Get out of my house and out of my life!" Her angry finger pointed to the door. "Leave!"

Before she realized what was happening, his hands closed around her throat. "It wouldn't take much, Jensa. Just one squeeze," he whispered threateningly. A puzzled expression appeared on his face. Lyle released her neck. He felt something underneath his hand and reached down into her sweater. She gasped at his inappropriate and unwelcome hand against her skin. He produced the necklace. "I thought I told you to get rid of this! You will regret your disobedience." Lyle hands covered her throat again. The cold blue eyes seemed to roll over white. It felt more like crushing than squeezing. White spots appeared in her vision. This time she knew he would kill her.

"Ly—Lyle," she choked, "Plea—please…"

"Please what? Show you some compassion when you've shown me none?" Jensa clawed at his hands, but the feeling began to leave her legs. She was not far from collapsing. Through her failing vision, Jensa saw the Tiffany vase out of the corner of her eye. It sat on a shelf next to the window. There were only a few precious minutes before she passed out. With a feat of strength she welled up inside, she grabbed the vase and smashed it against his head. His hands immediately released her throat. Lyle staggered backwards and fell into the chair he had been sitting in. Jensa collapsed to the ground coughing. The feeling hadn't completely left her legs and she had just enough strength to crawl to her door. She gasped and choked her way across the floor, blinking rapidly to clear her vision. The white spots began to fade. Her hand found the doorknob and she pulled herself to her feet. The door was only open an inch when Lyle slammed into her back, pushing the door closed. He grabbed her by the arm and dragged her over to her bed. Jensa saw the enraged look in his eyes and realized what her punishment would be. She let out a blood-curdling scream, as much as it pained her hoarse voice to do so.

"Shut up!" he yelled. Lyle hit her in the jaw with his fist. Before she sank to her knees, he pulled her up to her bed and pushed her onto her back. In a pedaling motion, she furiously kicked at him with her legs, but he grabbed her ankles and yanked her underneath him, straddling her stomach. Lyle put his hand under her neck and violently pulled her head up forcing his mouth onto hers as his other hand ripped her sweater open. She screamed wildly as his hand roamed her body. She pounded against his arms with her fists, but he caught her wrists and forced them above her head. Jensa noticed a trickle of blood running down the front of his forehead. The vase had caused damage after all, but not enough.

He pushed her skirt up and slid his hand up her thigh. She screamed again as his violation became more persistent. "Don't fight, Jensa. It will only make it worse for you. Submit." He leaned over and clamped down on her neck, leaving a bright red mark in the shape of teeth. A yelp escaped her lips.

"Never!" Before her strength was spent, she wrenched one hand free and socked him in the eye. He released her other hand while she twisted onto her stomach and tried crawling away from him. Jensa kept screaming hysterically, praying that someone would hear her.

Suddenly, the door to her room burst open. Both Jensa and Lyle stared as Michael appeared on the threshold. He quickly assessed the situation and lunged for Lyle, pulling him off Jensa. She scrambled off the bed, clutching the torn material of her sweater around her chest and watched in horror while her brother and Lyle threw punches at each other. Lyle was taller than Michael by several inches, but Michael was stocky and an experienced fighter from his many barroom brawls. Lyle was easily defeated and exhausted within minutes. Michael grabbed Lyle by the collar and jerked him up off of the floor. He dragged him out of her room and down the hall. Jensa followed after them, stopping just inside of their front door. Michael threw Lyle out onto the driveway while yelling a barrage of curse words at him.

"If you ever touch my sister again you bastard, I'll kill you!" Michael screamed enraged.

Lyle stood up and brushed the dust from his clothes. Jensa peeked around the corner of the door. The ordeal was over, but she was shaking from head to toe. Lyle spoke threw gritted teeth, glaring at the two. Blood trickled down from his nose and onto the crisp white linen shirt he wore. He ran his hand over his nose and wiped the blood away, leaving a smear across his cheek. "This isn't over. We're going to get married, Jensa, whether you like it or not!" Lyle spat at them. "You, this, everything," he said nodding upward towards the estate, "will be all mine."

"Leave now before I do something I won't regret," Michael threatened menacingly.

Lyle jumped behind the wheel of his car and sped off, leaving tire marks on the pavement. As he turned the corner of the driveway going at a high rate of speed, he nearly ran head on into another car. He swerved at the last second avoiding the almost fatal collision. To Michael and Jensa's horror, the car was carrying their parents and friend Kerri. Michael glanced back at a tearful Jensa still hovering in the doorway. He hurried over to her and encircled her in a protective big brother hug. Her body shook with sobs. "Michael, if you hadn't been there, he might have—" she broke off.

"I know. It's okay. It's all right," he soothed gently, rocking her in his arms.

Jensa continued. "He tried to kill me again!" Her voice was becoming hysterically high-pitched. "He was strangling me like before!"

"Calm down, calm down. He's gone." Michael patted her back. "Shh." He felt like he was talking to a frightened child. In a way, he was. Jensa had become very withdrawn and quiet like a child the last few months.

Mr. and Mrs. James and Kerri got out of their automobile and came running up to them. "Was that Lyle who came flying out the driveway?" Mr. James asked in shock. "He almost ran into us!"

"Yes, Dad. It was Lyle," he answered.

"Jensa, why are you crying?" Mrs. James grasped her daughter's arm and looked down at Jensa's low-hanging head and trembling body.

Kerri stared at Jensa's disheveled appearance. "What happened to your sweater? It's torn in half!"

"Oh, Mother!" Jensa let go of Michael and ran into her mother's arms. A frightened Mrs. James, not knowing what had happened yet, comforted her equally, actually more, frightened daughter.

"Would someone please tell me what's going on around here?" Mr. James asked frustratingly.

"We'll tell you the whole story." Michael walked up behind his dad and pushed him towards the front door. "Let's go inside. It's too cold to talk out here."

* * *

The five of them sat in their den in front of a large fireplace roaring with flames. It was a welcoming room, done in Victorian style. They gathered around the center of the room on two large couches that faced each other, patterned like a garden with burgundy and navy blue roses with green leaves on a cream background. Four cherry oak end tables sat at each arm of the two couches. Floor lamps were placed in strategic positions in the room to cast it in a warm glow. Two fans adorned the ceilings, but had not been used in some time because of the cold weather. A huge Oriental rug covered the hardwood floors, absorbing the footsteps of those who walked on it. Four winged back chairs, two burgundy and two navy blue, sat in each of the four corners in the room. Against the back of the room, a large bay window looked out onto the property revealing a panoramic view of the acreage.

As Michael stoked the fire, Samuel and Jennifer James listened to the story with combinations of shock and fear on their faces. The shock and fear turned to rage in Mr. James. He stood up from his chair and paced the room then sat back down again. He repeated the process several times, unable to keep himself still. After a quick change of sweaters, Jensa tossed the ripped one in the trash and put on gray cashmere. Jensa was curled up on their couch in the living room with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders. Earlier, she had pulled the blanket back and showed them the bruises on her neck. More had begun to appear from the attack two hours ago, as well as the bite mark. Was it really two hours ago? It still felt like only seconds ago. She could still feel Lyle all over her, his rough hands violating her; the stink of his smoky breath in her face. Every so often, Jensa did her best to stifle her coughing. Mrs. James practically poured water down her throat and tried calming her husband down, but the rage continued to flow through his veins. He was ready to strangle Lyle himself.

"I can't believe I didn't even see this side of Lyle. Why didn't I see it? I feel completely blind-sided!" he fumed at himself. "How could I let something like this happen? I can never forgive myself. I pushed you into marrying him. It's my fault," he chided himself angrily.

"It is not your fault. He fooled all of us, Daddy. Me too, at first," Jensa said, gently rubbing her aching throat. Her voice was terribly hoarse. She sounded like she had laryngitis.

"Now I understand why you've been so…melancholy. I had never seen you so sad. I wish you had said something sooner instead of living through such terror for so long. My poor baby!" Mrs. James cooed. She sat next to Jensa on the couch and placed a comforting arm around her shoulders, planting kisses on her cheek and forehead. Kerri sat on the other side of Jensa and held her hand comfortingly tight.

"I'll have him arrested," Mr. James said.

"I want him behind bars tonight," Michael firmly stated.

"Will you come with me to the police station?"

"Absolutely."

"Do you really think Lyle would stick around here to get arrested?" Jensa told them. "He's not stupid. I'll bet he's got people all over the state loyal to him," she added.

"You're probably right," her father agreed, rubbing his chin in thought.

"Jensa, darling, I think you should take a vacation. You've been through such an ordeal and I can see it's taken its toll on you," Mrs. James suggested.

"Maybe I'll do just that." Jensa suppressed another bout of coughing and Mrs. James refilled her glass with water. The pitcher set to the side of the couch on a table. Rather than put the pitcher back on the table, Mrs. James kept it in her lap so she could reach it more easily.

Michael smiled and kneeled down in front of Jensa. "I've been meaning to talk to you about going somewhere. You remember I told you I was visiting our relatives, the O'Connells?"

"Yes, you mentioned that before you left."

"So that's where you were, in Chicago," Kerri realized.

"Yes, unfortunately, Rick wasn't there, but Aunt Leslie said he was somewhere in Northern Africa. At least, his last communication with his family led them to believe so. Anyway, that got me thinking…Jensa, how would you like to take a trip to Egypt?"

Briefly, Jensa's eyes lit up, but the sadness didn't disappear so easily. "You really think we could?"

"Yes, you need a break. A nice long rest would do you some good and what better place than our old stomping grounds?"

"He's right, Jensa, " Mr. James put in.

"I think it's a wonderful idea!" Jensa exclaimed and immediately regretted such an outburst. Her voice box burned, but nonetheless, the excitement began creeping in.

"Kerri, you'll be joining me and Jen, right?"

"Of course, Michael. I wouldn't miss it for the world!" she cried eagerly.

"Who knows? Your father and I may even decide to join the three of you, depending on how long your stay will be."

"I guess it's settled then. Dad, let's go and do what we can to wash our hands of the filth I just threw out of the house." Michael grabbed his winter coat from the hall closet and Mr. James grabbed his from the chair he had carelessly thrown it over when they got home. Both set their fedoras atop their heads and headed out the door. The car pulled out of the driveway and left for the police station.

Jensa discarded her blanket on the couch, stood up and put her hands over her arms to rub warmth back into her chilled skin. "Mother, I'm going to go take a bath and lie down for awhile." Jensa slowly walked up the stairs to her room. She didn't know her mother or Kerri had followed her until she heard a gasp behind her.

"My God! Did Lyle do this?" She gestured in disbelief at her daughter's room. The sheets and pillows on the bed were strewn all across the floor and the Tiffany vase, which had been a Christmas present, lay shattered in hundreds of pieces on the floor. The chair by the window was lying on its side. The force of Lyle jumping up out of it to attack Jensa as she tried to escape broke one of the arms.

"Yes, he did, but I did that." Jensa pointed to the broken vase. "I smashed it against his head. It was while he had his hands on my throat," she said matter-of-factly.

"That evil man," Mrs. James shivered. "I'll help you straighten up your room and then draw a hot bath for you." she offered.

"Thank you, Mother." Mrs. James disappeared into the hallway to retrieve a broom and trash can for collecting the broken glass. Jensa and Kerri went around the room and picked up her pillows, tossing them on the bed and straightening the sheets. There was no need to make up the bed since she would be in it soon. After Mrs. James returned to the room, they cleaned up the glass and threw it away.

By the time the three of them were finished, Jensa was more than ready to unwind. She undressed and stood looking at the bruises in the mirror. A few had even popped up around her shoulders where he had bitten down on her. She wasn't one to bruise easily, so they were not quite as angry as would be expected, but they were still a noticeable shade of blue and purple. Her body shivered as she recalled how close she had to come to death. This made twice in three weeks. It was a wonder to her she was still sane. Jensa mentally corrected herself. Not too long ago, she had not been sane and had been too close to taking her own life.

Suddenly, she broke down. Tears streamed down her cheeks at an alarming rate. She hiccupped and moaned as it irritated her already sore throat. How could she have even been thinking about taking her life? She would have been a coward and Lyle would have still won. If he had succeeded in raping her, what was left of her spirit would have been broken. He had commanded her to submit. Oh, how close she had been to giving up! Just to end it all had seemed like the perfect way out. Thank God she didn't. Her parents knew about Lyle's abusive treatment of her and now she was free. Jensa could start her life over.

There was something else on her neck. She leaned forward towards the mirror squinting. Her breath caught in her throat. An imprint of the silver chain she wore was in her skin. Now, she remembered feeling it crushing into her neck. Odd that the necklace holding Ardeth's ring had left a mark on her. Vaguely, she thought it was a foretelling of the imprint he would make on her life.

Jensa wiped the tears away with the palms of her hands and sniffed loudly while taking a bottle of lavender salts from the cabinet behind her mirror and pouring them into the steaming hot water. She climbed in and settled down until the water came up to her neck. She inhaled the soothing scent, savoring its calming affects. Jensa let her thoughts drift away from the nightmare that was Lyle and thought of more pleasant things. Her upcoming trip to Egypt was the occupant in her mind presently. She could hardly wait to pack. Immediately, she thought of Ardeth. She even dreamed of him from time to time. What was he doing at this very moment, she thought, and does he still think about me? Five years was a long time though. Sadly, Jensa realized he could possibly be married and have a whole passel of children by now. That pained her more than the bruises. She would have to prepare herself just in case he was married to someone else and act like it didn't matter to her one way or the other, but that would not be easy. It most certainly mattered to her very much.

"We were so young," she whispered. Jensa had sincerely hoped that marriage with Lyle would work out and that she could push her feelings for Ardeth aside, but the longer into the engagement she went with Lyle, the more she longed for Ardeth. If she did happen to see him in Egypt, she didn't know what she would say. Things might have changed for him. She knew they had somewhat changed for her…but only somewhat.

She glanced down into the water at the necklace lying against her skin. Jensa reached down and brought the ring up for closer view. It was still as bright and beautiful as the day Ardeth gave it to her. Perhaps this was a sign of things to come.