Saint's Sacrament - Sins of the Father (106 page)

“No Stacey, she didn’t. Xenia doesn’t discuss you or any of her other girlfriends’ personal lives with me, unless it is good news such as a promotion, the birth of a baby or something joyous like that. She is very good with not disclosing confidences, regardless of us being so close, and I respect that. I understand confidentiality is essential in maintaining a friendship, unless of course someone’s life is in danger. In any case, my assessment is based on certain familiar behaviors, my knowledge of you as a person and quite honestly, watching the body language between the two of you. You know, based on the few times I have seen him at our home for parties and get-togethers.”

And the fact that when I felt your damn spine, he has twisted you the fuck up...your chakras are a wreck.

Stacey took a deep breath and smiled, ever so faintly. “Well, you’re
good
. What you said is exactly what happened, almost verbatim. Xenia thought you’d be someone good to talk to as you used to counsel people but since you were, well,
are
a sex therapist, I didn’t think that it would help.”

“It all goes hand in hand.” Saint waved nonchalantly and offered a smile. “Whenever I talk to a woman about issues she is having regarding intimacy, we must discuss these matters as well—because that is the core of it. It is what helps lead to certain behaviors, those being, our interpersonal experiences. Women are more cerebral when it pertains to intimate encounters, so how you all respond to your personal lives starts in your head first, then manifests in the actual sex act, or lack thereof.”

Stacey nodded in understanding. Saint leaned back on the couch, becoming more relaxed.

“Stacey, he’s gone.”

She looked at him, and the hope dimmed even further from her eyes. Shock and despair seemed to grip her. Here she’d come, hoping for some relief, a kind word, some encouragement and promises of better days, no doubt. Instead, Saint properly diagnosed the path of her relationship and then placed a stop sign right on the edge of a cliff. He could see in her eyes that she was crushed.

“I’m not saying that to hurt you, please don’t think that,” he offered softly as he saw how his words cut her deep. “I am saying it so that you understand what you’re dealing with. Jared is working from a lower vibration, Stacey. He uses this shy demeanor to make himself seem more endearing to women, to attract them. He
knows
he is a catch, from outward appearances. Think about it.” He leaned slightly forward. “An attractive, single black man living in L.A. with a nice financial portfolio, college educated, professional white collar job, unmarried, no kids up until the two of you created that precious child. He is in his thirties yet acted like he is fearful to talk to a beautiful woman. That within itself didn’t add up but let’s play devil’s advocate, okay?” Saint gave a slight grin as he further broke it down.

“Let’s say he
really
was one of these cats that was just socially awkward, despite having everything going for him. They do exist, albeit rare; let’s give Jared the benefit of the doubt for a moment.”

“Okay.” She blew her nose once again.

“So, he declares that after
all this time
, he was too afraid to step to you, and then, you two get together and he is taking you out, buying you shit, treating you like a damn Queen. The sex is great, you even got to meet his family and before you know it, he is talking about moving in together. As soon as he does, he busts off in you and gets you pregnant. This man had made sure he’d not gotten
anyone
pregnant before and Stacey, I don’t know how much of my work you’ve listened to, regarding my philosophies, but I just know—”

“Practically all of it.” she admitted with a pained smile. “All of it, Saint. I believe in most of what you talk about regarding men in general.”

Saint slowly nodded his head and continued. “Well, then you know I don’t believe that men impregnate a woman by accident. We simply don’t.  There is something in us that
drives
us to do it, especially if we’ve been very careful up until that point, which he clearly had. I too, had been very careful, took all the necessary precautions but men like us, Stacey,” he pointed to his chest, “who have gone through drastic measures such as turning down sex with beautiful women on the rare occasions because we didn’t have a condom, and we don’t trust to use hers—guys like us don’t suddenly slip up. Even if we believe we’re in love. Men who do this all of a sudden, more times than not, Stacey, have abandonment issues with women, okay?  Just think about it. All this time he’d never knocked anyone up, even his ex-wife ha—”

“Wait! How’d you know he’d been married before?”

Shit!

Saint had read it when he touched her chakras. He was typically not this sloppy, but it had been a long day, and he didn’t know he’d be doing an impromptu counseling session. All he wanted to do was get home to his family, and yet here Stacey was, losing her mind on his couch—he had to step in per Xenia’s request.

“Oh, uh, Xenia told me that a long time ago when you two first started dating. She didn’t get into a lot of details, just that he’d been married before,” he said with a straight face after already saying the woman didn’t tell her friends’ business. Regardless, he hoped Stacey bought the tall tale.

Sorry I had to lie on you
baby to get out of this...

Saint gulped down a smile.

Stacey nodded and he continued. He gave an internal sigh of relief.

“So, he does that with you, to ensure that you don’t go anywhere. This will glue you two together forever. Now, he may have been honestly surprised when you told him about the pregnancy, Stacey, but on some deeper level, he knew he was going to get you pregnant. He is at a point in his life where he needed the security. He wanted to set up roots, set up a home base, but he never took care of his spirit, Stacey. He tried to make you the one, but his old ways came back, especially under stress. Who we are is revealed under fire...”

“Wow,” she shook her head, the pained smile reemerging, “that’s deep.”

“Who we are under stress, under pressure, in our worse hour, reveals our true nature. A couple that never argues is nothing to aspire to—they are repressing. If you’re passionate, you will disagree from time to time. The healthiest of relationships goes through rough periods, when communication breaks down every now and again. A person that never gets upset or angry is someone to avoid because they’ve built walls around themselves, at least to the outside world. This means they are a ticking time bomb and they will either run away once the pressure becomes too much or they will explode, becoming verbally and even, sometimes, physically abusive to stave off what they see as an attack, when it isn’t an attack at all.”

Stacey’s eyes glossed over. She quickly brushed the pending tears away. “I do feel like I’m fighting him at times but I don’t know what he is upset about, why he treats me like this. He acts like I am trying to take over or destroy him sometimes.”

“He sees your care for him as an assault. He thinks you are trying to harm him, so his defenses go up when all you are trying to do is attempt to love him. He craves it, but something in him tells him to run far the fuck away from you, when you extend yourself.”

“I can’t...” She turned slightly away, a look of defeat on her face. “I can’t figure this out.”

“People with abandonment issues create situations to invite love, Stacey. Then these same people run away from it, or abolish it. When it is a heterosexual union, and the woman is the victim, she thinks at first, ‘How did I get so lucky to get this guy?’ Well, she didn’t. It was all an act. She got the pretty wrapping paper covering something ugly, bruised, emotionally stunted and deformed and a heart that was hollowed out, much like a decomposing Halloween pumpkin.”

“I got the Coach knock-off bag.” She laughed at her own misfortune, no doubt using it to help pull her through the stressful, painful moment. Realization was setting in.

“Nothing that is priced well and is of great value stays on the shelf long, Stacey. I hate to talk about people like objects or merchandise, but it’s true. Human beings are natural collectors, looking for the best deal for the least investment. Of course there are always exceptions, but in this world of high female to male ratio, there is no way that a man who seems to have all of his ducks in a row is hurting for female attention and if he is immature, or suffering some sort of mental illness or stunted emotional development, no one woman will
ever
be enough.  It is sociopathic and psychopathic behavior. Everything is always everyone else’s fault.”

“Oh my God.” She laughed loudly, slapping her leg. “Do you know him?! That is just like his ass!”

“I bet his cell phone is locked,” Saint added casually as he reached down and brushed a wayward piece of loose carpet from his shoe. “I bet he works longer hours now and you can’t get a hold of him as much.”

She nodded. Tears were still falling, but now she smiled through them,  contradicting the agony etched in her swollen eyes.

“I bet you suspect there is someone else and I bet he is acting sillier—meaning, he used to act more suave, and now, his vibration is plummeting even farther, because he is in fact cheating, which automatically for us as men is a spiritual demotion.”

He couldn’t help but shake his head at her. He knew everything he said was true and she was having trouble taking it all in, so much trouble that she began to make excuses. That was okay. That was usually the final stage before acceptance... One last pitch and ditch to revive the dead...

“Well Saint, in all fairness, Jared had a tough childhood and he made himself out of nothing. He is a good father, too. I mean, I can’t take that away from him and he does work a lot, and hard. He actually isn’t a bad person. I just wish we could fix this...”

“Stacey, listen to yourself. How in the hell are you going to be the one fixing something that you didn’t break on your own? Let me explain to you what just happened here.” He leaned in closer to her. “Look woman, you know who I am.”

She looked at him, seemingly stunned by his change of tone. “We’re done playing here,” he said sternly. “I don’t coddle. I don’t play with people when giving advice. So, if you think I am going to sit here and agree with this shit, you’re wrong. You got played, okay? Acceptance is the first step to moving forward. You got played by a man who didn’t know what the fuck he wanted and you got wrapped up in the shit he spun. Jared
knows
you’re a good woman, that isn’t the issue. Women like you, and this is most women in my opinion, no offense, but women like you always want to try and fix someone who doesn’t know or care that they are broken!

“You are taking this shit on the head, like you owe him to work this shit out. This man has
never
needed anyone to hold his hand for anything else; I can assure you of that. He had a fucked up childhood, join the goddamn club! I have no idea what Xenia has told you about where I grew up, what I saw and endured, but I should be in a casket or nuthouse, quite honestly!” He laughed, but not a laugh of amusement, as he pointed firmly to his chest. “Now, I do understand the difference here is that I did have a good mother, a wonderful mother, while Jared may not have.”

I know he didn’t...

“So, how we see our mothers is what we do to our women. Some of us are smart enough to get some help, to work through the shit so we can stop the pattern and not pass it on to our children. But most of us will not. Therapy, admitting we are fucked up, is seen as a weakness by so many. Men like this are grown children, a child trapped in a man’s body, working from a low vibration. Do you hear what I’m saying to you?”

Stacey nodded, looking up at him like a scolded child.

“The reason being is because we are trying to recreate our childhood over and over again so we can rewrite the shit, rewrite history.
You
became his mother. I know that sounds incestuous, but the man doing this doesn’t see it that way. You are a little older than he is, sign number one!” He counted his fingers. “Women are already more mature than we are, even if they are peers, so he added age to that. Though you don’t look it, you are older and behave as such. Secondly, you had a need for a man. You were not one of these women acting like you didn’t need a man, but you didn’t act desperate, either.”

Stacey stared at him attentively as he broke down the details of the mental concentration camp she was running away from...

“Regardless, he felt there was some need in you that he could take advantage of. He saw some vulnerability and it is no coincidence that he stepped to you right after you lost your aunt, Stacey. I remember Xenia mentioning you were dating a nice man right after your aunt had passed. You saw her as a second mother, who practically raised you.”

Her face grew tight
—the light bulb was coming on.

“So, you are there at work, grieving, trying to keep it all together, and here his ass comes out of the woodwork, offering comfort, a shoulder to cry on and some dick!”

Stacey didn’t react to his tone or words, but he knew she knew it was coming...he could see it in her eyes. He had started off slow and easy with her, as he always did with his friends and clients; everyone was treated the same. But then he wielded an axe, chopping down all the shit in front of her, the overgrown clusterfuck of poisonous weeds, to showcase the ugly truth of her reality. A garden she thought to be full or roses was covered in green, slithering snakes, smelly plants and grubs.