Back to Reality (18 page)

I listened to him carefully as I gazed at him.  My heart fluttered at his words. 
We both suffered devastating losses, but I didn’t realize I had helped him as much as he had helped me,
I thought, surprised.
He always seemed so in control. Sad when he talked about family, but in control.

He continued, “When I thought you left me in the hospital and ran off with him…”
With his fist balled at his sides, he shut his eyes and clenched his jaw. “I wanted to rip him apart.” He let out a harsh breath before he opened his eyes. “And you… I wanted to hate you. I wanted to forget you ever existed, Sahara. But I couldn’t…” He trailed off and just shook his head.

“Could
n’t what?” I squared my bare shoulders and braced myself for his impact of his answer.

“I could
n’t shake what it is I feel for you. I couldn’t shake how you shifted my priorities, changed my life.”

I didn’t expect him to say that. God, how did I get so lucky to find him?
He changed me too,
I sighed silently, my eyes filling with tears. “I—”

“But I don’t trust you,” Ty continued, effectively stopping me mid-sentence and taking all of the air from my lungs.

“Wait… wait,” I pleaded with him as I held up my hands and took a step back.  I was reeling from the sudden change of events. 
I don’t understand. I mean I do understand but…  All of the stuff he was saying. The fact that he’s here. I just thought…I thought we  could try again. I thought this was my do-over. I thought this was our do-over. But he doesn’t trust me? He doesn’t want to work this out? He doesn’t want…,
I couldn’t complete the thought as the tears fell. “I don’t know what to say.”

My face was warm from a lethal mix of embarrassment and disappointment.  After wiping the tears from my cheeks, Ty pulled me into a hug.  The softness of his shirt against the hardness of his body felt nice as I liquefied in the familiarity of his arms.  Suppressing the sobs that wanted to come out, I let out small gasping breaths.

“I love you,” Ty whispered against the top of my head.  I could barely hear anything he said over the sound of his racing heart.

“I love you too,” I wept against his chest. “And I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt you.  I’m so sorry.”

“I know.” He paused before he added, “And I appreciate you writing this letter.”

Sniffling, I pulled away from the hug slightly in order to look up at him. “I’m going to earn your trust back. I will make this right.”

The look in his eyes filled me with despair.
What did I do to this perfect man? And why?
I wondered as he gave me a sad smile before kissing my forehead.

“Okay,” Ty said simply but his eyes challenged me.
What does he want?
I thought nervously, afraid to get my hopes up again.  A slight smile played on his lips before he walked to the door of my apartment, never looking back.  “See you later, Sahara.”

He does,
I silently decided when the door clicked behind him, allowing a sliver of hope to pierce my thoughts.
And I will. I will make this right. I’ll earn his trust. I’ll give him what he needs and help him like he helped me. He deserves that. I don’t deserve to be happy but I want to deserve to be happy. After everything I’ve done, everything I’ve been through—Nope, not going there. Everything is not always all my fault,
I thought with forced determination.

Chapter 20
   

            
 
“Now that you’ve told me all that happened during the conversation, I want to know how you feel about what happened,” Dr. Summers acknowledged in our session one week later.

             
“I don’t know how I feel,” I answered honestly, picking at a lint ball on my plum dress pants.

             
“Have you been journaling?”

             
“Yes, every day. But I still don’t know… I mean, I know I want to make things right with Ty. We’ve talked every day this week, hashing and rehashing things out.  And we’re going to see each other tonight on his way down from Boston.”

             
“I’m sensing some hesitance.”

             
“When I was with Emanuel, I knew I was in love with Emanuel.  I knew I wanted to be with Emanuel. And I only wanted to be with Emanuel.  And when I was with Ty, I knew I loved him and only wanted to be with him. That’s not normal is it? I feel so strongly about them both.  I fell for Ty unexpectedly and at a time when I really needed him.  He gave me the strength to go to the parole hearing. He filled a void that had been empty for so long. After the accident, I never thought I’d be happy again. I was just barely getting by until he came along.” My eyes filled with tears and I had to look away from her. I focused on the flickering candle.  We were both quiet and once I was sure I wasn’t going to break down, I continued.

“Emanuel has always been it for me. 
He’s my protector. Until Ty, there was no other man for me. Emanuel was the end all and be all. He cuts through all of my bullshit and he weakens me. He makes me feel like the version of me that I miss, the version of me that died in that crash. Emanuel is home,” I sniffled.

Dr. Summers jotted a note down and then looked back at me. “When you are away from them both, who is it that comes to mind?”

“Both of them! I think about them both all the time. Even my nightmares alternated between the two of them. I never thought you could be in love with two people at the same time. But I think that’s what this is.” I wiped away the wetness from the corner of my eyes.

“Let’s focus on your feelings right now. How do you feel right now?”

              “Scared,” I admitted quietly. The clicking of my pale pink Prada pump against the leg of the chair was the only noise as Dr. Summers stared at me, urging me to continue.

“
I’m scared of hurting them. I’m scared of getting hurt.  I’m scared of losing what little I have left. And all I feel like doing is running away. Everything in me is telling me to run. But I don’t want to, I don’t want to. I’m tired of taking the coward’s way out.  I made my bed now I need to lie in it.”

             
“What do you mean by that Sahara? You made your bed now you must lie in it?” Dr. Summers tapped her pen against her notepad as she stared at me intently.

             
“I mean, I created this mess and running away didn’t fix it. Running away made it worse, for everyone. So instead of running, I need to face it. I can’t always run. I have to fix it a different way…even though I deserve the punishment.”

             
“What do you believe you need to be punished for?”

             
I shifted my gaze from her pale face and intense eyes and focused on the cinnamon scented candle.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale,
I coached myself silently as I took in the smell deeply. I closed my eyes and took a couple more deep breaths.  When I opened them, Dr. Summers was waiting patiently.

             
“I’ve caused so much hurt and pain for the people I love. I deserve to be punished…everything that I’ve done. I don’t deserve to be happy. I don’t deserve to be loved.  Every time I let myself think I could be happy, something happens that messes it all up.  If that’s not karma telling me I deserve to be punished, I don’t know what is. I deserve the life I was living—empty, lonely, miserable, cold.” I wiped the tears that trickled down my cheeks. The thought of going back to the life I was living earlier this year filled me with so much sorrow. 

             
“It sounds as if you are saying that even though you think you deserve this punishment, you don’t want to be punished. Do I understand you correctly?”

             
“Yes,” I cried, “I deserve to be punished. But I am trying to right my wrongs. I know what I deserve, but I also want to earn my salvation.  I want to stop hurting people and stop hurting myself. I want to do better. I want to be better. And my first step is to repair what I broke with Ty. Maybe in doing that…it’ll repair what’s broken in me.”

             
Handing me a tissue, Dr. Summers leaned forward and asked, “If you were to choose between Emanuel and Tyree, you would choose…?”

             
I drew my eyebrows together and frowned a bit in confusion. “I’m working on my relationship with Ty.”

             
“Yes. You are working on your relationship with Ty. But if you were to choose, who would you choose?” Dr. Summers repeated.

Shaking my head, I
slowly responded, “I don’t understand.”

“E
ach time you’ve chosen between Tyree and Emanuel, you’ve chosen based on the other’s situation.”  Flipping back in her notes, Dr. Summers continued, “When you thought Emanuel hated you and you were faced with the parole hearing, you chose Tyree.  Then you were in Thomasville for the hearing and found out Emanuel was in love with you and you chose him.  Then you found out Emanuel was engaged and you chose Tyree. Then after his accident, Tyree wasn’t ready to talk to you and you ended up choosing Emanuel.  Then you found out that Emanuel got his ex-fiancé pregnant and you ended that relationship and soon thereafter, Tyree received your letter and was willing to work things out… and you chose Tyree.”

I
let out a strangled breath as I listened to Dr. Summers. It felt as if she had punched me in the gut. I closed my eyes and gripped the armrests of the chair. 
That’s not true… that’s not true. Is it?
I thought as the bubble of denial burst. I focused my breathing and replayed her words in my head. The silence in the room reached a deafening level.  I opened my eyes and stared at the flickering candle.  I found it increasingly difficult to meet Dr. Summers’ eyes.  I could feel her analyzing me.  When I gathered my courage to look at her, I was met with Dr. Summers’ kind face.   Her eyes were knowing and thoughtful and I was suddenly flooded with the truth.
She’s right,
I admitted silently as I wiped my face with the balled up tissue in my hand.

“Sahara… if you were to choose between the two, who would you choose?”

“I—I don’t know,” I stammered and I dropped my eyes. “I can’t.”

“
Your indecision in your relationships speaks to a deeper, more profound conflict you are struggling with: what you want vs. what you deserve. You need to spend time figuring out what it is you want.  Not just in relationships but what do you want out of your life. I want you to journal this week about what it is you want. I don’t want you to focus on what you think you deserve. Specifically write about what it is that you want.”

How did I become this person? How did it get so bad? God…what is wrong with me?
I thought as I nodded to acknowledge her assignment.

“The crux of your anxiety is your feelings of guilt. Every time something
has happened to someone you love, you assign blame to yourself and you punish yourself for it.  You are singularly focused on punishing yourself which is why I want you to continue to remind yourself that everything is not always all your fault.”

I nodded again, unable to speak.  My mouth was suddenly dry. Although I didn’t feel warm, I could feel a thin layer of perspiration coat my body as my pink Alice + Olivia silk top clung to me.

“Are you breathing Sahara? You need to breathe,” Dr. Summers calm voice forced the
shallow breaths of air in and out of my lungs. My watery eyes met hers and she gave me a warm smile.  “That’s good. We can end the session here. You know what you need to work on with your journal and I will see you next Friday.”

Dr. Summers stood in her navy blue polka dotted dress
and I followed her lead, not truly connecting with what I was doing.  My mind replayed her words over and over as I followed her floating figure through her office to the front door of the building. She turned to me.  Putting her hand on my shoulder, Dr. Summers looked as if she were about to impart some wise words on me.

Before she could speak, I squared my shoulders and interrupted, “
I’m choosing Ty.”

Dr. Summers
pressed her thin lips together and patted my shoulder. “Please bring your journal next week.”

After sayin
g goodbye and hailing a taxi, the cloudy haze of truth cloaked me until I reached the solace of my apartment.  I peeled off my work clothes and headed to the shower. The hot water massaged my body and masked my tears. 
Talking to Ty in person will be better than it was this week,
I promised myself as I thought about the two awkward conversations we’d had. It wasn’t argumentative, but it wasn’t anything like our conversations from before. 
He isn’t as open as he was. He never once told me what his injuries were. Every time I tried to ask about the accident, he would change the subject or cut me off. He’s guarded.  And I know guarded when I hear it. I’ve perfected guarded.  But I don’t want Ty to be that way with me. I don’t want Ty to be anything other than who he is. It kills me to think that what I did changed him.

Getting out of the shower, I wrapped myself in a terrycloth towel and strode purposely to my bedroom.  Glancing at the clock, I knew I didn’
t have a lot of time. Quickly moisturizing my body and hair, I styled my hair in a curly up-do. With shaky hands, I applied my make-up. 

I don’t
plan on sleeping with him,
I told myself as I slipped into a brand new black lace G-string and a matching braless, backless bra.
But I want to look good for him.

After
slithering into the black Alice + Olivia silk dress, my heart started racing from the nerves.  Turning around in front of the mirror, I examined the leather T-strap exposing the smooth skin of my back.
Ty always liked it when my back was out,
I thought with a nervous smile. Stepping into the black and gold Tom Ford ankle padlock pumps, I grabbed my gold clutch and exited the apartment.

The
ten minute taxi ride to the address Ty texted me was excruciating.  I didn’t have time to search the address when I received it on the way to therapy.  And after therapy, I was in a daze.  So as we pulled up to the trendy restaurant, my mouth dropped open. 
Pandora’s Box. Really?!
I thought as I fiddled with my clutch to pay the driver.
Am I reading too much into this? I mean, Ty is Harvard educated. I know he knows the legacy of Pandora and her box. I know he knows the meaning behind the phrase regarding opening Pandora’s box.  Is this his subtle way of telling me he’s done with me? Is he even going to show up? Is he—
.

“
Ma’am?” the taxi driver was staring at me quizzically. “Are you okay?”

Breathing rapidly, I
placed my hand over my heart and held up a finger to indicate I needed one more moment.  When I was able to get my breathing under control, I threw a forced smile over my shoulder and stepped onto the sidewalk. The loud buzz of the city soothed me:  people laughing and talking, car horns blaring, tires squealing. Standing on the sidewalk, I took a few calming breaths before tentatively taking steps toward the front door. Brushing past groups of people waiting outside of the restaurant, I entered Pandora’s Box.

The narrow hallway was painted a deep red
with two door openings at the end of the hall.  The lighting created an effervescent glow. My heels clicked on the black tiled floor and when I reached the end of the hall, I didn’t know whether to go left or right.  Through the right door was a packed bar area and through the left door was the elegant restaurant. Music pumped through both areas and meshed together beautifully.

“Welcome to Pandora’s Box. How can I serve you?”
a woman with large catlike green eyes and thick red hair said in a demure voice.

Swiftly shifting my gaze across
the crowded room, I didn’t see Ty. “Um I—there should be a reservation under Barker,” I stammered nervously. My thoughts started racing,
what if he doesn’t show? What if he never intended to show up?

“Barker. Yes. Right this way ma’am.”  Breathing a sigh of relief, I followed behind the redhead.  Tucked
deep in the back of the room were a row of three curtained off areas.  Each red organza curtain functioned to box in a table and two chairs.  Two of the three private areas were available and roped open to showcase the chandeliers that were suspended from the ceiling. Stopping in front to the only closed area, the hostess looked back at me and smiled. “Your dinner companion is right inside.”

Pulling the curtain back,
the hostess stepped back to allow me to enter the room.  Stepping past her into the decently sized space, Ty was seated at the table with a drink in one hand and his cell phone in the other. When he looked up at me, I stopped in my tracks. I felt the organza curtain brush against my bare back as the hostess released it, giving us our privacy.