On Scott’s bronze grave marker was his full name, Scott Lawrence Buckley. The marker underneath read, “Received into the Lord’s loving care.”
Kathleen felt a twinge of surprise when she read it. Could that possibly be true considering the life he led? She did not think beyond that momentary wonder and bent down, running her hand over the marker, remembering.
She fell hard for Scott, changed her life to have him for her husband by moving to Sedona after a romantic two-month courtship, abruptly ending her newspaper career at the Los Angeles Times. But soon after the marriage, after the initial euphoria, she realized she made a disastrous mistake.
The adoring, fondling lover who publicly kissed her passionately on the mouth was often impotent as his drinking escalated. And with the drinking came the violence--from a sharp punch to her arm, to the attack the night she left him.
The longer she was married to Scott, the more she realized what a bastard he was, particularly in his attitude toward her. Scott knew how to make Kathleen feel like a married whore, doling out money when the mood struck him. If she did a particularly good job hosting one of his political dinner parties, Scott would leave several hundred dollars next to her bedside table just as if she’d favored him sexually.
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