the climate was better for him. Aside from occasional business trips back to Denver, he intended to spend most of his time here. He had an office in town and was qualified as a real estate broker.

Granger was a great reader, and he liked music. We got along very well. He saved me from the ache of loneliness. Yet inside of me, there was a void that no one on earth but Jan could fill.

I was fond of Granger, and a year after I'd met him, when he asked me to marry him, I wanted to tell him the truth about how I was in love with Jan.

But convinced that Jan had deserted me, and I'd never see her again, I hesitated. However I told him honestly,

"I don't love you as a girl should love her husband. It wouldn't be fair for me to marry you."

"I'm much older than you are," he replied, frowning. "Maybe it isn't fair of me to tie you down. But even if you don't love me now_won't you let me try to-to earn your love?"

I can't be in love with a man! The thought pounded in my head. I opened my lips. But the words wouldn't come out. Yet, even then my eyes were warning him, "I'm lesbian. I was born that way. I'll always be lesbian!"

But he didn't know what my eyes were saying. I gave myself an argument in Granger's favor. Granger Macy is the kindest man I've ever known. I've lost Jan. I'll never be able to stop loving her. But by trying to be a good wife to Granger, I may be able to appease my family's anger and disappointment in me. I'll be able to give Granger happiness.

Inside of me, a tiny voice kept pleading, "But what about yourself?" I heard it. But, deliberately, I ignored it.

Granger and I were married quietly in his living room. All my family were there, beaming. Inside I was

crying-in memory of what Jan and I had once dreamed. But the dreams had never come true. I lifted my chin and tried to smile as I cut my wedding cake. This was reality.

I'll never forget the first time I had sexual relations with Granger.

He seemed to be keenly aware that having been a victim of brutal rape, I would appreciate all the tenderness of which my husband was capable.

I remember how un-bride-like I felt as I sprayed perfume over my head, shoulders and entire body. To me, what had been a ritual of anticipation with Jan, was now just a necessary bit of routine. I felt almost prim in my rose-colored nightgown that billowed down to my ankles. As I looked into the full-length mirror and saw my body's curves gleaming through the rose transparency, I felt as if I were looking at someone else.

When I saw my husband enter the bedroom, watched him remove his russet robe, and stand before me in his blue pajamas, I felt no stirring of desire. Seeing Jan ready for bed had made my body feel as if it was alive with hundreds of pounding tom-toms. As I looked upon my eager husband there was no throbbing in any part of my body. Yet a terrific emotion whirled in my

brain. FEAR!

Yes, remembering Bob's assault, I was almost petrified by fear of pain when I was possessed by my husband.

When Granger got into bed and took me in his arms, even his gentle manner did not apply a brake to the cart of my run-away fear. I was thankful that he had put out the light. Because in the darkness he could not see the fear that I knew was mirrored in my eyes. I wanted to spare him from seeing that.

He kissed my mouth. He closed his lips about the nipple of my breast. Then, when he lifted my gown and lowered himself over me, as he pressed against me, I