congratulatory self-congratulatory feelings or self-congratulation — but you’ll say more in coming months. You’ll have to, for I’ll just about be the only person you’ll see,” and she said “I’m breaking my silence oath, so don’t tell me I did. If you don’t let me go — meaning if you don’t leave in the next five minutes — then I’ll not only shout and scream but bite and fight and break windows and lamps and your head if I have to. And after I’ve drawn attention from the outside or the other tenants and the cops smash the door in or get you or the super to open it, I’ll make sure you’re put in prison for as long as possible — not only for keeping me here, and ‘kidnapping’ they’ll call it — but I’ll say you did ten times worse than that: beat me, threatened my life, anything where I don’t have to furnish visible proof; the beating I can do with little pinch marks to myself. I’ll lie my heart out, that’s how I’ll settle my score with you,” and he said “I’m sorry you feel that way, but it doesn’t scare me off,” and she said “Who cares about scare? It’s what I’ll do to end this satire of male brainlessness, brawn and day-dreamy revenge,” and he got a scarf from the dresser and stuck it in her mouth as a gag and knotted it in back, tied up her arms and legs with other scarves and tights, knew absolutely he shouldn’t, that he should untie her and go but he still hoped, at the same time knowing he’d made the whole thing hopeless, that he’d think of something to change her mind about the baby or she’d change it on her own, quickly made two sandwiches and a salad and dressing, got a glass of water — no, water, she’ll tie it to being a captive and say something like “How come also not just crust or dry bread?”—dumped the water and filled the glass with apple juice and ungagged and untied her and told her to come to the table to eat. She stayed on the bed, said “See the stain?” touching a dark spot on the bed cover; “that’s urine — I had to go again — and I don’t care. I don’t want to go to the bathroom again while you’re here and pull down my pants,” and he said “Then do it that way, but you’ll get a bladder infection and rash, and I’ll eat in here,” and brought in the food though he didn’t want to eat, wasn’t hungry, was only doing it for effect and she no doubt knew it — so why did he persist in doing it if he knew she knew it? because maybe she didn’t — tossed the salad and put the sandwich plates and salad bowl and utensils on the bed and the glass on the night table — no, he was doing it because he didn’t know what else to do, or was stalling, doing futile things to give her time to change her mind — and sat beside her and ate. “Surely you got to be hungry,” putting salad on her plate and sliding it to her and she pushed it back. Phone rang and he said “God, the phone, you could’ve called when I was bringing in the food — let’s let it ring,” and she said “Anything you want,” and looked away from it and then lunged for it on the fourth ring; he blocked her hand, knocking over the juice as he did, picked the phone up and held it till the ringing stopped. “Sorry for the mess,” wiping it with his handkerchief and she closed her eyes and peed and he said “How do you expect to sleep in that smelly stuff?” and moved to the chair with his food. “Anyway, I know you’re doing it intentionally, and it’s not going to get me to release you,” and she said “Intentionally, sure, like I now don’t have to make number two. I was holding it in long as I could but I can’t anymore. Will you let me do it in private or do I have to do it in my pants? Even when we were together I wouldn’t let you see me and you also didn’t want me to see or hear you,” and he said “What do you mean ‘not hear me’?” and she said “By turning the faucet on,” and he said “That was a habit I got from my mother and I thought it polite, like lighting matches over the toilet after,” and she said “I don’t care; what about me now?” and he said “There’s a little window in the john, so I wish I could but I can’t. What I will do is not look,” and he let her go inside the bathroom, turned around but kept his foot in the door in case she ran up to it and slammed it on him and tried to lock him out, and she turned the tub faucet on hard and flushed the toilet several times. “I’m a little tired from all this,” he said, when she wanted to get past him; “we should probably clean up—