Authors: Krista Ritchie,Becca Ritchie
I lick my chapped lips, as hesitant as him. “What?” I wonder
if he’s going to chastise me for something I did with Lo. Maybe talking to him
again. He’s never been on my team. Not really. He’s sided with Lo far more
often.
“I’m sorry,” he says, the words sounding so sincere that I
almost stumble back in shock.
“Huh?”
He rolls his eyes, his features darkening. “Don’t make me
say it again.”
My brows crinkle, and I tug the flaps of my Wampa cap lower
to shield my flush and the incoming gust of wind, not sure what else to say
since he’s left me in a state of confusion.
He runs a hand through his hair. “I thought you’d cheat on
him and break the guy’s soul,” he admits. “I didn’t think you could do it. And
I was wrong.” He pauses and then his eyes meet mine, and I see Lo in them. “I’m
sorry for being an asshole, for not understanding…I think that he needs you as
much as you need him.” He nods to himself, as though realizing how
right
those words are as he says them.
So, he may not be rooting for me exactly. But he’s
supporting our relationship. That’s even better. I can’t help but smile.
Ryke actually smiles back. “You’re okay, Calloway.” With
this he pats my shoulder and then turns around, heading for the warmth of the
indoors.
Rose shovels a light layer of snow into the trashcan, and
the fire hisses and smoke plumes in the air. She tosses the shovel to the side
and smacks her hands together to clean off the dirt. When she sees me watching,
she nears and tightens my coat around me, finding the hooks to snap it closed.
“Thank you,” I tell her, “for these three months.”
Her eyes flicker to mine. “You did all the work.”
“Not true,” I say with a small laugh. She found my
therapist. She decorated the house. She spent more time helping me than I can
even add up. “I’m happy I’m here.”
“Me too,” she says, her eyes softening again. She’s starting
to get good at that. Her arm wraps around my shoulder. As we go inside, I know
that the future may not be so easy. I know that there will be more issues to
deal with.
But I can’t imagine going back to how things were.
Now it’s time to start building relationships.
I think I’m ready.
{12}
Lo comes home tomorrow.
I don’t think my brain can process anything else for the
day, yet I’m sitting in Dr. Banning’s office trying to go over some heavy
topics before Lo returns. My poor brain is about to emergency eject right out
of my skull.
But I don’t want to quit, not when I’m so close to having
some sort of breakthrough about my addiction. I feel like I’m on the verge of
answers. I just need something to
click
.
Dr. Banning runs a hand down the side of her short black
bob, her eyes intent on her notepad for the moment. My fingernails are bitten
down to the beds, and I rub the tops in an attempt to ease the sting. It only
hurts more.
“Lily.” Dr. Banning finally looks up and I meet her gaze.
She gives me a warm consoling smile and I relax a little. “You told me you were
having a housewarming party. How did that go?’
“Fine,” I say, running my hands on my jeans and inwardly
cringing at the word.
Fine
. Such a
stupid word really. It feels empty and weightless. It’s the kind of word you
use to hide the truth.
“And your parents know that Lo will be returning home from
rehab. How do they feel about him living with you after all of this?”
I mull over the question, hearing my mother’s response
instead of my own. “
Work it out
.”
Three words that had me more confused than anything.
“They’ve always approved of our relationship,” I tell Dr.
Banning. “Rehab didn’t change that. I’m not sure anything would.”
“What if you told them about your addiction?” she questions.
My stomach churns at the very thought, but I imagine my
mother with her cold judgment and my father’s shame for having a dirty,
disgusting daughter. I couldn’t…
“They wouldn’t understand.”
“How do you know?”
I try to think of an answer better than
I just know
. But I can’t.
Dr. Banning leans forward a little in her chair and asks,
“What about the housewarming party, really? You’re in your new home with your
friends and your family, but Lo isn’t there. That has to be difficult.”
“Shouldn’t you be asking me about sex?” This question has
been my go-to digression tactic.
“We’ll get to that later. Right now, I want to talk about
the party.” Obviously, she’s picked up on my strategies. I end up giving in.
“I felt awkward,” I
mutter. “But I always feel awkward so it really wasn’t much different.” I
scratch my arm, but without any fingernails it’s more like rubbing than
scratching.
“Why would you feel awkward around your family?”
I have so many secrets, sometimes they feel like they’re
crushing me from the inside out. Keeping my addiction from my family has always
put this intangible gap between us. But something stops me from telling Dr.
Banning. A lump lodges in my throat as I blink a couple times, utterly
confused.
Because I think I know…I think I know that I’ve always felt
this way, even before my addiction. Before there were any secrets at all.
I try to remember the mornings where I woke up in my own
house. Where I clambered downstairs in my pajamas to have breakfast with my
family. I can smell bacon and eggs, and I can see Lucinda standing over the
stove asking me if I want mushrooms or tomato in the scramble. It’s not the
right memory though. Our chef was named Margaret. Lucinda cooked for Jonathan
Hale.
“It’s not right,” I mutter under my breath.
“What’s not right, Lily?”
Let me think
.
Nights. Nights were at my house. But that was before I left for Lo’s to hang
out and sleepover.
Yes
. I’m
what…seven. I can see the television screen with silly cartoons, and I hear
Poppy playing the piano in the background. Rose was on the floor, reading the
first
Harry Potter
. My mother’s heels
clapped into the room and she looked between me and Rose. She strode to the
bookshelf and came back to jerk Rose’s novel from her grip, replacing the
magical world with
To Kill a Mockingbird
.
Our mother tucked the fantasy novel under her elbow and walked
right out of the room without another glance.
“I can’t…” I shake my head, tears pricking my eyes. I don’t
like this answer.
Take it back
.
“Lily,” Dr. Banning says but I’m still shaking my head.
I see all the years flash in and out. I see each of my
sisters suffocating, being silently molded by a mother who just wants the best.
I see me being free of
that
. But why
does it hurt? It shouldn’t fucking hurt.
“It’s stupid. It’s so stupid,” I complain and touch my hands
to my eyes.
“Lily,” she says slowly. “You have to let it in.”
“Let what in?”
“The pain.”
My bottom lip trembles and I just keep on shaking my head.
“It’s stupid.”
“Why do you think that, Lily?” she asks fervently. “Your
pain isn’t worth less than anyone else’s.”
“You don’t understand. I
shouldn’t
feel this way.” I point to my chest. “I have money. I come from a privileged
life. I refuse to throw a pity party for myself.”
“You can’t refuse to feel hurt just because you think that
you don’t deserve to feel it.”
I don’t know if I believe her. I think I should. “My sisters
got the raw deal,” I say in defense, my cheeks stained with tears. “I got off.”
No controlling mother. No piano lessons or ballet recitals.
“You never give yourself a break,” she tells me. “You’ve
never given yourself a chance to feel. Do you understand?”
The emptiness. I guess it’s where that pain should be.
“It’s just you and me,” Dr. Banning says. “I don’t care
about your last name. I don’t care about what your sisters went through. All I
care about is you, Lily.”
It takes me a few moments to gather the strength to start
talking about the thoughts that unsettle my head. A couple tears fall onto my
hands and I manage to say, “When I was
really
little, my mother used to put me in classes like she did the other girls. Art.
Singing. Piano…Everything.” I bite my lip, nodding to myself as I remember. “I
lasted about a day in each. I just never picked up talents like Poppy and
Rose.” I pause and cringe at my own words.
So
what Lily Calloway? You’re not talented. You don’t need to cry about it.
“Keep going,” Dr. Banning urges.
I shake my head now, but the memory continues to spill.
“When the school sent me to remedial math in third grade, I think that was the
last time my mother paid attention to me. I wasn’t sociable and congenial like
Poppy. I wasn’t smart like Rose.” I wipe my eye. “And I never grew tall and
beautiful like Daisy. I think…I think I was something she wished she could
return. Like a generic handbag. But she couldn’t. So she just acted like I
didn’t exist…”
She let me spend nights at Lo’s. Let me do whatever I
wanted. And that freedom turned out to be as suffocating as her control.
“I never felt like she loved me,” I mutter under my breath.
“I never felt worthy enough.”
I shake my head again. I don’t want this to be the answer.
It should be something
more
. It
should be a horrific, life-threatening event. Not these stupid feelings.
“When are you going
to stop punishing yourself for what you feel?” Dr. Banning asks me.
“I don’t know how,” I choke
“You’re human, Lily. You hurt just like the rest of us. It’s
okay.”
I nod now, changing course a little. I want to get there. To
allow myself to feel pained by my childhood without feeling irreparable guilt
at the same time. I just don’t know how to compartmentalize these emotions. How
do I bear the hurt of being lonely without hating myself at the same time?
Because my sisters would have given anything for the freedom I had. Because the
world would give anything for the life I was born into. I feel selfish and stupid.
Worthless and pathetic. Ugly and used.
Sex made me whole again.
One time turned into two. Two turned to three. And then I
just couldn’t stop.
Dr. Banning passes me a box of tissues and I pluck a few
from the carton, blowing my nose and trying to compose myself.
When the quiet lingers, I say, “I don’t want that to be the
answer. No one will understand.” I’m some girl who decided to fill the
emptiness in her heart with sex. Neglect and loneliness drove me to this place.
A single choice to start and then the inability to stop.
“I understand,” Dr. Banning tells me. “Rose will understand.
And in time, your family will too. You just have to give people the chance,
Lily, and you have to learn not to be ashamed of how you arrived here. It’s not
your fault.”
Her voice soothes me, relaxing my torpid thoughts to mush.
She scribbles something down in her notepad and my brain screams at me for not
hitting eject earlier. But there’s unfortunately still more to discuss,
especially with tomorrow looming.
“What about Lo?” I ask, clearing my throat. I sweep the last
of my tears away. “What should I do now that he’s coming back?”
She unlocks her cabinet drawer and I watch her pull out a
small white envelope. “Before I give you this,” she says, “I want to
congratulate you on your ninety days of celibacy.”
I think I hear her wrong. “I haven’t been celibate.”
Her smile is warm. “Have you had sex with another partner?”
“Lo and I had…Skype sex,” I say, flushing a little at the
words.
“But he hasn’t actually penetrated you,” she reminds me. I
turn even redder at the word
penetrate
and silently wonder how she didn’t even blink when she said it.
“So I’ve been celibate?” I say, a little unbelieving.
“For your personal treatment and what you needed to do,
yes
you have completed your celibacy
period. You should be proud of yourself.”
There’s really only one thought on my mind. “So I can have
sex with Lo?” I want to jump up from the chair and do a jig or something silly.
I also feel a little bipolar. A second ago I was crying and now I’m more
excited than ever.
“Yes and no,” Dr. Banning says, and crushes me yet again.
This emotional rollercoaster is killing my stomach.
She slides the white envelope towards me. “Based on our
sessions, I’ve listed your limits. Sexual acts that you should never
participate in and acts that you should limit yourself. Think of these as
guidelines or rules for sex.” I always thought the words sex and rules should
never be synonymous. I guess things will definitely be changing for me.
I take it quickly and press my finger against the crease to
rip the seam.
“Before you open it,” she cuts me off. “I’m going to advise
you
not
to look at it.”
I frown. That doesn’t make any sense. “How will I know what
not to do?”
“Have you ever heard of the saying ‘people want what they
can’t have?’” she asks. I don’t like where this is going. “In my experience,
every time someone chooses to read that envelope, it’s much more difficult to
abide by it. They get scared and they usually never share the information with
their sexual partner. You have a choice, Lily. You can either look inside the
envelope now or you can give it to Lo and let him take care of it.”
That sounds like a huge decision, one that could change
everything. Reading it now could seriously terrify me. I can just imagine the
words
sex once a month
written in
clean scrawl. I think I’d have a panic attack. With Lo around, abstaining from
sex will be a thousand times more difficult, and I know how draining telling me
no
will be. But that’s exactly why I
should give it to him, so I don’t punk out and toss the letter in the trash.
Let him decide my fate. My nerves spike at the thought of being in that
unbearable unknown. But maybe Dr. Banning was right.
Giving up something isn’t the same thing as losing control.
“You don’t have to decide now,” Dr. Banning says, “and when
you and Lo feel ready, you both can see me together.”
Great
. I’ve never
had a one-hundred percent heart-to-heart about addiction with Lo. Not sure how
therapy
with
him will turn out. Another
hurdle to look forward to.
I slip the envelope into my back pocket and give Dr. Banning
a quick thanks and handshake before I leave. On the way out, my stomach
overturns. I know how well choices can alter the future.
We started a fake relationship. We ended it. We dated. We
loved. And then we separated. Pain, happiness, joy and hurt ricochet from each
path taken and from each memory uncovered.
One decision can change my life forever.