Wellesley, Massachusetts, Tuesday…

She opened up one of the bags and displayed a cranberry colored evening gown. Sweeney had to admit that it was stunning and that she would look gorgeous in it. But his black mood quickly returned.

"Put it on," he suggested.

"Now? Don't be silly. We're in the middle of the living room."

"Put it on!" he yelled.

"OK, OK," she said, trembling. She knew his anger well.

He watched with grim satisfaction as she stripped down to bra and panties and then slipped on the evening gown. Yes, she is gorgeous in it. He drew close to her. She could smell the bourbon. He toyed with the low cut of the dress, as if he were straightening the bodice. She felt some of her fear melt away. Franky can be gentle and nice sometimes. Then he pulled straight down, ripping the gown off her, laughing.

"You think I'd get a hard on for a shitty dress?" he asked her, his face pushed close to hers in defiance. "And don't tell me how much it cost. I don't give a fuck. Your family has so much money that it doesn't fucking matter. It's an insignificant dress. It's all insignificant unless I can clean up after Stephanie and Hank."

"What- what do you mean, Franky? What cleanup?"

He walked back to the bar for another bourbon, leaving her standing uncomfortably in her underwear.