He pulls back again, a cruel, expectant smirk on his face, waiting for the moment her pride finally snaps and her desperation forces her to vocalize the very thing she has spent her whole life trying to hide.
The threat of her son's arrival acts like a lightning strike to Marielle's soul. The mental image he painted the boy she loves, the boy she has tried so hard to protect with her "perfection" walking in to see her in this state of primal, unrefined debauchery is more terrifying than any physical pain.
Her mind becomes a frantic, screaming vortex of conflict.
'No! Not like that! Not him!' her conscience shrieks, a final, dying gasp of the woman she used to be. 'If he sees me like this, the memory of his mother will be forever stained!'
He will see the lie... He will see the filth... Please, God, let me be dignified one last time!'
