Then I realized that Bill and I had to tell Chelsea. When I told him he had to do this, his eyes filled with tears. He had betrayed the trust in our marriage, and we both knew it might be an irreparable breach. And we had to tell Chelsea that he had lied to her too. These were terrible moments for all of us. I didn't know whether our marriage could―or should―survive such a stinging betrayal, but I knew I had to work through my feelings carefully, on my own timetable. I desperately needed someone to talk to so I called a friend who was also a counselor and sought guidance. This was the most devastating, shocking and hurtful experience of my life. I could not figure out what to do, but I knew I had to find a calm place in my heart and mind to sort out my feelings.

Despite the emotional wreckage all around him, Bill had to prepare his testimony and work on a statement to make to the nation. As we struggled with this personal and public crisis, the world provided another reality check: In Omagh, Northern Ireland, a renegade Irish Republican gang detonated a car bomb in a crowded market, killing twenty-eight, wounding more than two hundred and badly damaging the peace process that Bill had worked so long and hard to nurture with Irish leaders. As reports of the casualties came in that Saturday afternoon, I remembered the times I'd sat with women in all parts of Ireland to talk about the Troubles and to look for a way to achieve peace and reconciliation. Now that's what I had to try to do in the midst of my own heartrending troubles.

Bill gave his four-hour testimony on Monday afternoon in the Map Room. Starr had agreed to withdraw the subpoena, and the voluntary session was videotaped and relayed on closed circuit to the grand jury chamber.

When it was over, at 6:25 P.M., Bill emerged from the room composed but deeply angry. I could tell from his body language that he had been through an ordeal.