Beautiful Illusions (23 page)

I smiled back
. This would be such an awesome vacation, considering I was staying at a place that I could never afford, and driving a rental car that I also couldn’t afford. Yet, treating this trip like a vacation was the very last thing on my mind.

“What can I do?”

“Just be here for me. I’m having trouble coping right now, and I really need you.”

How could I turn down a plea like that?
“Of course I’ll be there for you. That’s not even a question.” Or it shouldn’t have been. Then, I realized that I had a pattern, already established, of bailing when he needed me to stay. I did it the first time when he told me about the therapist, and the second time when he told me about Nick. I had only known this guy a relatively short period of time, and I had already failed him twice.

I had
to be strong. But I wondered how long I would have to be out here in LA. I did have a job to go to, even if things were slow right now.

“Uh, how long will you be staying here?” I asked him.

“Three more weeks. I’m checked in here for a total of 30 days.”

I tried to make a joke of it. “You see any celebrities in this place?”

“Well, yeah, but I can’t tell you who they are. This is the place where they come when they are-“

“Dehydrated and exhausted,” we said in unison. We both laughed at that.

Ryan said “Celebrities are people, too. They have issues, probably more than the average person. And this is a good place to work on things. It’s very calm and peaceful, and they have a world-class stable of doctors here. That’s why I came here, specifically.”

“You ever been here before?”

“No. This is my first time inpatient.” He looked at me. “Uh, this isn’t going to be easy for me. Those memories that I repressed were awful, worse than what my father did to me. I know that sounds odd, but I could get more closure on what my father did because I was able to confront him. But most of those people at those parties are anonymous people. I can’t confront them, so that’s why I’m having problems.”

“That makes sense.”

“So, what you got going back home?” Ryan asked.

“Well, I’m here for this week, at least
. Next week, uh, let me check my iPhone.” I pulled out my iPhone. “Um, it looks like I can be here next week, too.”
I’ll just have to do some more rearranging. But he needs me, that’s most important.

“I owe you,” Ryan said.
“I know that you have a life, and it can’t just stop for me. But it means the world to me that you can take the time out to be here.”

I smiled tightly
. I hadn’t planned on being here two weeks, and it was a hassle even getting the one week off. Things will blow up back home, no doubt. I patted his hand reassuredly. He had not yet known me well enough to know when I’m covering up anxiety. I have all sorts of “tells” for that sort of thing, one of which is patting the person’s hand.

It was getting to be 8 PM, and visiting hours were winding up
. I packed up the food, what was left of it. “Um, I think I’ll just go to my car from here, if you don’t mind,” I said.

“I don’t think you can do that
. I think you have to go through the main door.”

He was right, of course. If I would be able to just get to my car from there, anybody could do that. That wouldn’t be that big of a deal for people like Ryan, who was there voluntarily. It wouldn’t be so great for some of the other patients there
. So, we made our way back into the main building, holding hands.

“I wish I could stay,” I said.

“I wish you could, too.”

He ended up walking me to my car
. He kissed my forehead. “Thanks again for coming. Uh, I’ll see you tomorrow?” He looked hopeful.

“Of course.”

I came back the following evening. This time, he was waiting for me by the front door, where the receptionist sits. I could see the receptionist eyeing him. He had his hands in his pockets casually. As usual, his beauty took my breath away. It occurred to me that the way that he looks was most of the reason why I felt insecure around him, even more than his wealth. I just never saw myself with somebody who looked like him. Yes, my past boyfriends have been cute or even handsome, but they haven’t been stratospheres out of my league like this guy.

And, somehow, his pain was making him even more beautiful
. He always had a vulnerability that I never could quite place. I never knew what the source was. Now, I knew, and I also knew that his vulnerability ran deep, deeper than I could possibly fathom.

And it was precisely this moment that I knew that I was in love with him, too
.

He smiled broadly as I approached
. “Hello, beautiful!”

I always smiled when he called me “beautiful.” Here he was, indescribably beautiful, and he thinks that I am the one who is
. Of course, I am not quite the mess I was when I met him for the very first time. I was cutting my carbs lately, and the weight was starting to come off. I also started taking better care of my skin, making sure that I that I was drinking lots of water, and I had even started moisturizing some. I had also tried to get bi-weekly gel manicures, which were amazing, because they lasted the entire two weeks, just as promised. So, I was less of a toad then I used to be, so I guess that was something.

But beautiful? That wa
s stretching it just a bit.

I smiled back. “Hey!”

“Would you like to go out on the town tonight?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I'm here voluntarily, so I asked if could leave tonight. They said that I could. But I do have to be back by 10 PM.”

“Awesome!”

We made our way to where I was parked. “Do you want to drive?” I asked.

“Sure.”

We found a beautiful Italian restaurant in Beverly Hills. The waiter brought us bread and water, and I ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio and Ryan ordered a Scotch Rocks, which was his familiar standard.

“So,” I began
. “How was your day?”

“Pretty good. I have been doing intensive journaling, and talking with one particular therapist about my memories. I have also done group therapy that is focused for people like me. People who’ve had sexual trauma.”

I was afraid to ask, but I knew that he wanted me to. I knew that he needed me to know as much as possible, because I was going to be his “person.” I was finally starting to get that.

“Have you remembered anything new?”

“Just more details. I’m starting to remember some faces, but the names still aren’t real clear to me.”

I wish that he could remember names
. I wish that I could put a hit out on each and every one of them, and that they would each die a slow, painful, death. Or go through what they put Ryan through.

“Uh, Rochelle. She still lives in town?”

“Apparently so. My therapy has been focused mainly on her. But I’ve also tried to place some names and faces of some of the other people who would attend the parties, and would do things to me.”

“What are you remembering about Rochelle?”

His face still looked relaxed, so I felt encouraged to ask him more. I figured that I would be able to tell when he was being pushed too far.

“Well, Alexis told you the gist of it
. She took me in, and we had sex a lot. I was confused. I thought that this was the way to please people, and I knew that I didn’t want to go back to Benjamin. So, I pretty much did what she wanted, when she wanted it.” He paused. “And sometimes she threatened me a little.”

“What do you mean?”

“Sometimes she would handcuff me to the bed, and would threaten not to bring me food or water if I didn’t have sex with her. I challenged her one time about this, and she actually didn’t bring me food or water for two days. Nor did she unchain me to let me go to the bathroom.” He looked ashamed. “That was the worst part of it, even worse than being denied food and water.”

I realized that I was holding my breath
. I let it out. I wanted to kill this woman, slowly. I wanted to handcuff her to her bed and not bring her food and water for two days, and make her literally shit and piss her pants. Make her think that she was going to die of dehydration.

Ryan seemed unruffled talking about this, though. He didn’t seem as enraged as I felt at that moment
. I imagined that he had gotten his emotions out, so he was able to somehow accept it. But I looked at my hand, which was clutching my wine glass so hard that I was surprised that it didn’t break. My hand was also shaking uncontrollably.

Ryan noticed this. “This is making you uncomfortable.”

“No, enraged.”

He put his hand on mine
. “Do you mind if I keep talking about this, or do you want to change the subject?”

“Go ahead. You need to talk, and I promised to be there for you every step of the way.”

He took a deeper breath. “What I’m trying to figure out through all this intensive therapy and journaling is why I, uh, liked the abuse.”

I tried to make my face as impassive as possible. I didn’t want him to see the curiosity and horror that I felt when he said that last part.

He continued. “My therapist told me that I was experiencing a classic case of Stockholm Syndrome.”

I nodded. I had a passing familiarity with Stockholm Syndrome.

“I’ve come to realize that I depended upon her, and, at first, she protected me. Or so I thought. She took me away from that house, and that was really all that I wanted at first. Actually, that was all that I ever wanted, period, from her. Then, when I realized that she was not my protector at all, but that I was essentially held captive by her - simply because the alternative was unthinkable, going back to Benjamin – I started to sympathize with her, and didn’t really see that what she was doing was wrong. It was my defense mechanism. I had no choice but to stay with her, and I would have done anything to please her. So, I did. At least, that is what I am getting out of therapy, as far as why I liked the sex and the, uh, abuse.”

I waited for him to go on
. I was trying to absorb this, all that I could, trying to understand him so that I knew the best way to help him.

“So, I’m trying to work through this the best that I can.”

What a crazy bitch.

The waiter came around for our order
. I had already told Ryan what it was that I wanted to order, so Ryan ordered for me, like he usually does.

“The lady will have the chicken parmesan,
and I will take your Spaghetti Carbonara. The lady will also have a Caesar salad, and I will have your house salad.”

“Very good.”

After the waiter left, Ryan looked at me. “So, how are you liking your accommodations?”

“Oh, my god! I’m loving it!  I could never afford this room in a million years for even one night, and I can’t believe that I get to stay there for 14 days and nights! It’s also a lot of fun driving the Volvo. It sure beats my usual jalopy. Alexis must have spent a pretty penny for all of this!”

Just then it occurred to me that Alexis didn’t pay for all of it, or any of it, for that matter. I narrowed my eyes. “Wait a second. She didn’t pay for all of this. You did.”

He looked embarrassed
. “Uh, I didn’t want you to feel obligated to me. But I also wanted to make sure that I made it worth your while to come out here. Alexis did make the arrangements, but I paid for it. Sorry for the ruse.”

I felt a little speechless
. I did feel obligated to him now, but, at the same time, I had to rearrange my life to come out here, so I guessed that we were even.

I put my hand on his. “Thank you very much for the room and the car.”

“Thank you very much for coming out here to be with me.”

He took a deep breath. Several of them, in fact
. He appeared to be shaking a little as well. “Uh, I have another confession to make to you.”

I nodded, covering his hand with my hand again
.

“Uh, I actually ended up at the Beverly Hills place because I, uh, had a major relapse with the drugs.” He looked ashamed
. “When the memories started coming back so quickly and so strongly, I went back to my crutch from before. Before I knew it, I was right back into it.” He sighed. “I was somehow able to catch myself before it got too far, because I knew that after a week of getting high that I had to get back into rehab.” He looked at me with pleading eyes. “I hope that you can handle all of this.”

I looked into his eyes sincerely, my hand covering his
. “Ryan, you’re very brave. You couldn’t help what happened to you in the past, when you were a little boy and an adolescent. You can help what happens to you today, and I think that you are amazing for helping yourself. A lot people would just keep going on with the drugs after having a relapse, and would OD or just keep going down the addiction road. You aren’t doing that, and, for that, I think you’re my hero.”

He smiled,
then stared at me for a little while, with compassion and love in his expression. I blushed and looked away, as I always do when he gazes at me intently. His eyes are too intense for me to look into for any period of time. He blinked a few times.