Wednesday, August 25, 2010, started out fine. Tony phoned me that morning. He’d gone for breakfast after we’d disconnected and sent me a picture he’d taken during his meal. All was not fine when he dialed me up once more later that afternoon.
Tony lamenting about his predicament with pseudo wife was grating on my nerves. Within the short time frame of my earlier contact with him and then, she’d done or said something that had set him off. It mystified me that he clearly had the capability to permanently remedy the rough situation but would not do so.
From my viewpoint, on the one side, my State Policeman was the epitome of masculine, an alpha male who wouldn’t put up with flack from anybody -- to some degree that’s what made him attractive to me; on the flipside, here was a guy who repeatedly demonstrated he couldn’t stand up to his abusive girlfriend, catered to her any and every wish even if it meant sacrificing plans he’d already made for himself or doing junk and going places he had no interest in merely to please her.
Up until this particular conversation, I hadn’t brought it up that, days before, I’d gotten wind from a mutual acquaintance about how harmonious Ms. Priebe and Special Agent Gattuso were together in front of their friends. Considering he was giving me an ideal opportunity to, I decided to confront Tony with the contrary information.
My officer reiterated his method of going along to get along with Brenda. He assured me their public displays of affection -- I noted he didn’t deny they occurred -- were every bit an act on his part.
Things didn’t add up and, unlike I had in the past, I refused to drop it. First I was grumpy, then I was miserable. What I found remarkable was that no matter how hard I pressed him, he stuck to his guns; he never varied his story. I think it’s what made it believable.
He said people didn’t see what his life was actually like when he and she were alone, that I was the sole outsider who knew it was rocky. He upheld his fear of her foul temper and stressed even an allegation of domestic violence from her against him would cost him his job. When he kept telling me how sorry he was for sucking me into their dysfunctional relationship, I felt terribly guilty for ever doubting him. I ended up apologizing multiple times for questioning him. Well into the evening I was still chastising myself for being such a horrible person to him and worrying that I’d made him mad. He deserved better, from her and me both.
