Too Little, Too Late (12 page)

B
RIAN EDGED HIS CAR AGAINST
the curb. He glanced in the rearview mirror; Alexis wasn’t behind him. She was there, at the last light. But now she was gone.

He shook his head, wondering if his wife had changed her mind. He knew that was a serious possibility. From the moment she told him this morning that she was taking her own car, he knew that her chances of showing up with him were tenuous at best.

“Why do you want to drive?” he’d asked when she made that announcement as he’d come into the kitchen. He sat at the table and said, “Let’s ride together.”

She glared at him, then dumped two pieces of burnt toast onto his plate. She stood, towering over him, daring him to speak another word. Finally, he called the truce. Picked up a slice and bit into the hardened bread. Only then did she walk away.

When they’d left home and she’d followed him down Wilshire, he wondered why he’d never noticed her trailing him before.

A car’s horn blared behind him. He glanced in the mirror, said a quick prayer of thanks before he jumped from his SUV.

“This better not take long.” Alexis swung her purse over her shoulder, almost hitting him with the bag.

“It won’t.” He led her up the steps to the front door of the house that he’d been visiting for more than a year.

The door opened, and with a sideways glance, he saw Alexis’s eyes widen.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea,
he second-guessed himself.

“Hello,” the woman greeted them. With her white-blond hair set in a stiff bouffant style, all that was missing was the long blue dress. She could have easily slipped into the story book pages as Cinderella.

Brian stepped inside first, the referee between his wife and this woman she did not know.

“Nice to meet you, Alexis.” She held out her hand. But Alexis had left her manners at home and the woman’s hand stayed alone, hanging in the air. “I’m Taylor Perkins,” the woman continued anyway, her voice still breezy as if she was unfazed by Alexis’s attitude.

Alexis folded her arms, stared. Still, Taylor smiled, “Follow me,” she said.

Together the three moved down the narrow corridor into a room.

With a quick glance, Alexis scoped the space. Took in the desk, and chairs, and shelves stocked with books. Taylor motioned toward the sofa as she sat in an oversized chair facing them.

With her attitude and impatience rising, Alexis asked, “Who are you?” The question was for Taylor, but she directed her words toward Brian.

Taylor said, “I’m your husband’s doctor.”

It began slowly, the way Alexis’s lips spread and then her mouth opened wide. Her glance moved from Brian to Taylor back to her husband. And she sank onto the couch. “Doctor?” she whispered. “Brian, you’re sick?”

He looked at Dr. Perkins first before he nodded and sat next to his wife.

Her hand covered her mouth. “Oh my God. Why didn’t you tell me?”

Dr. Perkins said, “I’ve been encouraging Brian to talk to you, Alexis. He’s wanted to, but this has been difficult for him.”

Alexis paused and swallowed, bracing herself for the worst news. “Baby,” she began. She scooted closer, took his hand. “Whatever it is, I’m here. I’m going to stand with you.”

“I’ve wanted to tell you,” he said, his head bowed. “But I didn’t want to lose you.”

“That could never happen. I’m here for you.” She paused. Took both of his hands into hers. “Tell me, what’s wrong? What is it?”

Slowly, Brian raised his head.

Alexis said, “Whatever it is, we can handle it.”

He glanced at the doctor.

The doctor said, “Alexis, actually, I’m a therapist.”

Brian said, “Yes, Dr. Perkins is my therapist.” He paused. “And she’s been helping me because…I’m a sex addict.”

A
LEXIS WAS SLEEPWALKING
.

Only she wasn’t asleep. And she wasn’t walking. Instead, she was sitting on some couch, in some office, in some house, in some part of Los Angeles.

But sleepwalking was the only explanation she had for the words she’d just heard.

“I’m a sex addict.”

Then, Cinderella said, “It’s important for you to know, Alexis, that sexual addiction is not about sex. What your husband has is becoming a medically recognized disease.” And now, Cinderella was rambling on about how Brian was recovering well.

What are they talking about?

“Alexis, would you like a glass of water?”

She heard the voice, but it sounded like a distant memory, very far away. “I don’t need water, Doctor. I need to know what you’re talking about.”

Brian exchanged a quick glance with the doctor before he took Alexis’s shaking hands into his. “Sweetheart,” he said, his volume barely above a whisper, “I’ve been…sick for a while. But I’ve been getting help.”

It was hard to keep his face in focus. “Help? For being a sex addict?”

He swallowed, nodded, waited for her to say more.

She wondered,
What kind of help do you get as a sex addict? More sex?
That thought made her say, “I’ve got to get out of here.” But she didn’t move.

“Alexis,” the doctor said, “I know this is hard to hear, but your husband has been working on this for over a year.”

“You’ve been a sex addict for a year?”

Dr. Perkins said, “Actually, he’s been recovering for a year.”

“Baby,” Brian said, “I’ve been faithful to you for this entire year.”

She frowned, his words ricocheting in her mind. “Faithful for a year? But we’ve been married for five.”

Silence.

Alexis asked, “So…what are you saying?”

More silence.

She answered for her husband, “That means that before last year…I’ve got to get out of here.” This time, she jumped from the couch, grabbed her purse.

“Sweetheart, please stay.”

“Alexis,” the doctor called, “It’s really important for you to stay. I’ve been encouraging Brian to tell you for some time now. Not only because it’s best to be honest, but because so much of his recovery depends on you.”

Alexis said nothing.

Dr. Perkins said, “I want to assure you that men and women have been healed and marriages have been saved. You’ll help yourself and your husband by being part of this.”

Alexis shook her head.
She
didn’t need any help.

“All right. Maybe this is too much for today,” Dr. Perkins said. “Let’s set up something for tomorrow. After you’ve had a chance to absorb this.”

“I don’t think so.” Alexis stepped over Brian, made her way to the door.

“Wait, I’ll go with you,” Brian said.

Alexis whipped around. “No! You. Stay here.” She glared at him. “With your therapist.” This time, she ran. Down the hall. Out the door. Onto the street and into the car where she was safe. She sat frozen, hoping that here, in the quiet, she could comprehend it all.

But when she saw Brian rushing toward her, she floored the accelerator, heard the screech of the tires, and watched Brian leap onto the sidewalk out of her aim.

Even as she drove, her daze stayed. The scene played over in her mind. And there was no sense to any of it.

Sex addict.

Time passed. The fog cleared.

Sex addict.

She remembered when she’d heard those words before. With Halle Berry. And her husband. And she had the same thoughts now that she had then: sexual addiction? Ha! A man’s explanation. A man’s disease. A man’s excuse for being unfaithful.

Halle’s man then. Her man now.

What was she supposed to do?

From the corner of her eye, she saw the store and she swerved into the Neiman Marcus driveway just as her cell rang. Glancing at the phone as if it were a rat, she checked the number, then flipped it open.

“Hey,” Kyla, her best friend sang. “I called your office, and LaKeisha didn’t know what time you were coming in. What’s up?”

“I had an appointment.” Alexis pushed through the store’s glass doors.

“Okay, call me when you finish. Let’s do lunch.”

“I’m already finished.” Inside, Alexis wandered to the first counter she saw—the designer sunglasses.

“Are you heading back to the office now?”

“No, I’m in Beverly Hills. At Neiman’s.” She motioned toward a pair of glasses and the lady behind the counter pulled the eyewear out for her. “I’m doing a little shopping,” she said as she tried on the glasses. Then, to the salesclerk, she said, “I’ll take these.”

“You, shopping?” Kyla chuckled. “Okay. Something’s wrong. Who danced on your last nerve today?”

“I’m shopping so that I won’t think about the fact that my husband is a sex addict.”

Kyla laughed, and waited for the rest of the joke. When Alexis didn’t offer more, Kyla said, “Why are you calling him that?”

“Because that’s what he and his therapist just told me. So now I’m in Neiman’s having my own therapy.”

“Alex.” The glee was gone from Kyla’s tone. “Back up. What are you talking about?”

“My husband is a sex addict,” she said in an anchorwoman’s voice. “At least that’s the excuse he’s giving for cheating on me.”

Alexis could tell that the salesclerk was fighting to keep her attention on the four-hundred-dollar sale she’d just made, rather than on what had to be one of the juiciest conversations she’d ever had the opportunity to overhear.

After a period of silence, Kyla said, “Alex, please tell me you’re kidding.”

“I’m not. That’s why I’m shopping. I want to look good for my divorce,” Alexis said, signing the sales receipt.

“Alex, come to my house. We can talk here—”

“I can talk and shop at the same time,” she said, now browsing through the shoe department. She held up a pair of Jimmy Choo satin sandals. “By the way, did
you
know that Brian was a sex addict?”

“No! Why would you ask me that?”

Alexis shrugged, put down the shoe, and strolled to the Manolo Blahniks. “I just figured that Brian had told his best friend. And if he told Jefferson, I figured that Jefferson had told you. That would make me, his wife, the last to know.”

“Alexis, if I had known…wow! I’m just trying to wrap my head around this.”

“Me too. But shopping is making it easier.” She held up two shoes and motioned toward the clerk. “Size eight,” she whispered. Then, back to Kyla, “So, if you think you’re having a hard time with this, imagine me.”

“I’m coming to Neiman’s right now.”

“You don’t have to. I’m having a grand old time by myself.” She slipped into one of the designer shoes that the clerk returned with. “Kyla, you should see these Gucci pumps. They’re fabulous.”

“You don’t like that kinda stuff, Alex,” Kyla reminded her.

“I do now. These shoes will go great with the Chanel glasses I just bought. Even if they are,” she paused, looked at the end of the shoe box and flinched, “seven hundred dollars.”

“Keep your phone turned on,” Kyla exclaimed. “I’ll be there in twenty.”

“Why?” Alexis whined. “You’ll just make me take all of this stuff back. And I’ve just begun my therapy.”

But Kyla had already hung up. Alexis snapped her cell shut, tossed her credit card to the salesclerk, then rushed to the store’s directory. She had to move quickly. Because when Kyla came, she’d bring good sense with her.

Until then, Alexis needed to get far away from the memory of this morning. And Neiman’s and her credit card were going to help her to do that.

Inside Zodiac, Alexis and Kyla needed the table for four where they sat. The two chairs beside them overflowed with Alexis’s purchases.

“So, that’s all you know?” Kyla whispered, even though they sat alone in their section of the restaurant. “Just that Brian said he’s a sex addict?”

“That’s enough, don’t you think?”

“No! I don’t even know what that means.”

“It means my husband had sex. Without me. And he wasn’t alone.” Alexis grimaced. Inside, she’d been thinking about what Brian’s confession meant. But aloud, the words were sharp. Cut. Made her heart bleed.

Kyla exhaled a long breath. “You need to know more. You need to really talk to Brian.”

Alexis raised an eyebrow. “About the details?”

“If Brian is an addict, it’s not like he’s just having an affair. It means he’s sick.”

“It means that he’s slept with other women.” The coffee cup shook in her hands. “It’s a man’s world, Ky. And some man came up with this name for cheating. But I don’t care what you call it. Adultery by any other name still means that you can’t be married to me.”

“Alex, you can’t stop here. There is too much love and too many years between you and Brian. Talk to him. At least understand before you do anything.”

Alexis sighed, lowered her eyes. “Brian and his…therapist want me to meet with them tomorrow. But I don’t know if I can sit in the room with him and Cinderella.”

When Kyla frowned, Alexis explained.

“Well, no matter what she looks like, she’s still a therapist, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Then that means that Brian has done everything right.”

Alexis raised her eyebrows.

Kyla said, “You caught him getting help. And he took you to meet his doctor. That means he’s doing everything he can to save your marriage.”

“That’s not possible. I can’t imagine staying with him now.”

“I can’t believe you’re saying that. You were full of advice about forgiving when Jefferson cheated on me.”

“This is not the same thing. Your husband slept with only one woman.”

“Only?”

Alexis ignored her friend and continued, “Brian says he’s an addict. That means he’s slept with…“She stopped. Shook her head as she thought about what that could really mean. Halle’s husband—weren’t there rumors that he’d slept with dozens of women? She said, “Brian is not like Jefferson. Brian’s been with more than one woman.”

“Did he say that?”

“He didn’t have to. Just the definition of sex addiction—that’s what it means.”

“When did you get your medical degree?” Alexis raised her eyebrows and Kyla continued, “This addiction could be playing out in a number of ways. It doesn’t mean he’s been sleeping around.”

Alexis said, “So, when did you get
your
medical degree?”

Kyla smiled a little, reached across the table, and took her friend’s hand. “I just want you to look at the facts. You caught Brian trying to work it out because he loves you. If he didn’t care, he would have just continued…doing whatever it was that he’s been doing. That has to count for something.”

Alexis sat unmoved by her friend’s words.

Kyla sighed and leaned back. “Okay, this could have played out way worse. You could have been like me and walked into your own house and found your best friend in your bed.”

A small smile crossed Alexis’s face. “That wouldn’t have been good because you’re my best friend.”

Kyla chuckled. “You know what I mean.”

Alexis nodded. Indeed, she did know what her friend meant. It was a time that she would never forget, a time that had been filled with pain for all of them—especially Kyla.

After sixteen years of a solid marriage, Kyla had come home to find her other best friend, Jasmine, naked in her bed. And Jefferson, coming out of the shower. The shock, the pain of the betrayal had devastated Kyla to the point where Alexis had been sure nothing could save that marriage.

But she’d been wrong—God had restored what the devil had tried to destroy. He had put Kyla and Jefferson back together, even better than they were before.

Alexis asked Kyla, “How do you live with it? Does it still bother you?”

Kyla shrugged. “It’s been so long now, what, six years? I think about it sometimes.” She paused, pinched her lips together as if she were having one of those bad memories. “But it’s easier because Jasmine is gone and I don’t have to see her face.”

“Well, that makes it easier for me, too, because you know, if she were living here, she would have been one of the women that Brian…“She shuddered. “I might be facing homicide charges right about now, because if Brian had ever been with Jasmine, both of them would have to die.”

“Why are you thinking like that? First of all, Jasmine hasn’t been anywhere near Brian. Secondly, you don’t even know what he’s done and you’ve convicted him. The man at least deserves a trial.” She waited a moment before she encouraged, “Go with Brian to the therapist. Listen to him. Listen to her. Ask questions. Then you can make a decision.”

It took a moment for Alexis to nod. “You’re a good friend, Ky.”

“You taught me how to be one.”