You are standing at attention when I come home. You have been impatient, waiting, anticipating our encounter- however your face belies this when you see me. You show only your obedience.

You have learned to have more than one response. When I come home alone you are not to make eye contact, you open the door and greet me, removing my jacket and taking my briefcase from my hand and passing into my now empty hands a glass of red wine. You follow behind me as I sit on the couch and then kneel on the floor to remove my heels. You rub my feet and calves as I drink in silence. The evening will proceed as is either routine or scheduled, but you will not speak until spoken to.

However, you have learned how to behave differently if I do not come home alone. When joined by guests you know to act the part, you are courteous and polite, charming and erudite. You greet people and offer them drinks, laugh and enjoy their company. All the while watching me anxiously for any sign of my displeasure, and to ensure that I have complete satisfaction.

These transitions are seamless, we have learned them well. In public you are my apparent protector and partner, but in private you are my dutiful servant, careful and committed. We know which to perform when, and it is always to my expectations.