The Ties That Bind by Warren Adler

had arranged their time
together around Fiona's days off. Harrison's time was more flexible, although
his practice was exceedingly busy. Their relationship was both intellectually
and sexually satisfying and they derived from each other strong stimulation in
both departments. She looked forward to their time together and it was not
uncommon for them to spend many hours in bed, as they say, exercising the venery.
In fact, talk and sex was their principal and joyful recreation. Nor had the
effects worn off even after six months of such a routine.
    But last night in their conversation, she sensed a kind of
blockage, a psychological barrier that made her fearful and insecure about
their physical relationship. It was exactly the feeling she had endured for
those two years after the Farley experience.
    "You okay, Fi?" Harrison had asked after their
conversation trailed off into long pauses and dead ends.
    "Tired," she had sighed.
    "Bad day?"
    "Awful."
    "I can come over and cheer you up."
    "Nothing would help."
    "Tomorrow then?"
    The thought of sexual congress induced an uncommon sense of
disgust. The old symptoms were recognizable. Years ago it had begun in just
that way, a vague sense of disgust, like imagining rancid food, which took away
the appetite.
    "I need my space this week, Harrison," Fiona
said. Harrison was a sensitive man and she knew he could react.
    "I thought I was part of your space, Fi."
    "You are, darling," she replied, but even she
could hear the tentative note in her voice. "I'm just
discombobulated." She deliberately used the odd slang, hoping to lighten
the atmosphere between them.
    "I surrender." He hesitated. "Then
when?"
    "I'll call you."
    For him it would be another sour note. As she expected,
there was a long pause between them.
    "Fi, you sound ominous."
    "I'm just in a foul mood, darling. It has nothing to
do with you. Really it doesn't."
    "Are you sure?"
    "Of course I'm sure," she said firmly. It was the
kind of repetitive dead-end conversations that they both detested.
    Another long pause.
    "You just sound so ... so cold," Harrison said.
    "Oddly enough, I feel cold," she said, shivering
lightly as she did so. "I need ... I need ... a little patience, darling.
It will pass. I promise."
    Hadn't it passed before? she asked herself.
    The conversation ended, certainly for Harrison, on a note
of confusion. For her it was frightening. Remembering her two-year ice age
experience, she recalled the agony of isolation. She had tried combating the
frigidity, but she froze at the mere touch of male flesh. Desire had simply
disappeared. There were none of the usual symptoms of arousal. Her genitalia
seemed irrelevant, burdensome. She could not dare to look at herself naked. Her
fantasy life, once rich, varied and sexually exciting, disappeared. The curtain
had come down on sensuality.
    Nor were there any compensating feelings. Even her taste
buds seemed to lose power. A kind of indifference invaded all of her senses.
Sights and sounds lost contrast, became dull and uninteresting.
    Her body's lack of normal reactions deeply affected her
attitude toward others. She withdrew from social contact, became morose and
perpetually depressed. She endured, coped, but did not seek professional help.
Perhaps it was a legacy from her father, the determination to go it alone,
faith in the power of the mind to work out personal solutions. Or pure Irish
stubborness.
    In the end, she was able to tell herself that she had risen
above the trauma. She had begun to feel herself heal, slowly at first, then
rapidly. Fantasy began again just below the surface of consciousness. She began
to rationalize her actions, blaming herself less. She had simply stumbled into
harm's way. Her limits had been tested. Out of this tunnel of despair, she had
emerged, certainly wiser and with a lot better understanding of the sexual
minefields.
    How could she possibly discuss this with Dr. Benson? All
night, tossing in her bed, she had concocted scenarios of