Too Little, Too Late (14 page)

A
LEXIS STOOD OUTSIDE, FOLDED
her arms, and then with the tip of her mule, tapped the passing seconds. She glanced at her watch, even though she knew the time. She’d been watching each hour pass since she’d awakened.

“Good morning, Alexis.” The doctor spoke with a perkiness that belied the early hour.

Silently, she followed the doctor down the hall. There was no need for niceties. She had only one purpose. To get this over with. Short and simple. Quick and easy.

Inside the office, Brian jumped from his seat, took a step toward her, but the pain in her eyes stopped him. He swallowed hard. “I was worried about you.”

“No need.” Alexis didn’t look at him as she sat. She kept her eyes away because she knew if she looked at him, her mission might be thwarted.
Short and simple
.
Quick and easy.

But she could still feel his gaze.
Get a good look now
, she wanted to taunt him. Wanted to shout that this was the end.

“First, Alexis,” the doctor began, “thank you for coming. This is hard, but it’s going to be much easier for you and Brian with the both of you here.”

Alexis nodded because she was sure that’s what the doctor expected. But all she wanted to do was tell the doctor to save her breath. Tell Brian to pack his bags.

“Before we begin, I want to add one other thing.” The doctor placed her arms on her desk and leaned forward. “It’s important for you to remember, Alexis, that this is a real illness. It’s not an excuse that Brian’s made up to explain his unfaithfulness.”

Even with her shock, Alexis didn’t move a muscle. Those were words she’d uttered to herself yesterday. The thoughts of divorce paused in her head. But after a moment, she snatched the thoughts back. No matter what, Brian had betrayed her.

Dr. Perkins continued, “Do you have any questions?”

Alexis hesitated, thought about the two things she wanted to know:
Were you really with two thousand women?
And
how fast can we sign those divorce papers?

“I don’t have any questions,” Alexis began. “But, Doctor, I’m not even sure why I’m here.” She didn’t miss the exchange between Cinderella and Brian. “I thought about it last night and—”

The doctor held up her hand. “Alexis, I know how hard it was for you to come here. But I’m going to ask a favor. Since you’re here, would you mind hearing me out?”

Alexis pinched her lips together. It was as if Cinderella knew her thoughts and was trying to stop her from what she had to say. Breathing deeply, she nodded. There was no harm in listening. She’d make her declaration about divorce soon enough.

The doctor smiled her approval. “What I thought we’d do today is talk about the facts of this illness before we get into Brian’s case specifically.” She took a breath. “If at any point you feel that I’m getting too technical, or you have any questions, stop me.” She glanced at Brian. “And if there is anything you want to add, definitely do.”

For the first time, Alexis glanced at her husband. He was pressed back in the chair, as if he were trying to get away.

“Okay, Alexis,” the doctor began, sounding as if they were about to have a friendly conversation. “It’s important that I repeat this: sexual addiction is not about sex. Addictions are usually severe habits that people form to medicate their feelings based on their need to escape.”

Escape? From me?
she wondered, and then tossed the question aside. It didn’t matter—whatever Brian wanted to get away from, he would soon have his wish. He would be free from her, and she would be free from this humiliation.

The doctor continued, “It really is no different than alcoholism, although it is more similar to an eating disorder.”

Oh, God.
Alexis wondered if she was going to be able to keep breathing.

“What I mean by that is, with an eating disorder, we don’t want you to stop eating. Well, we don’t want Brian to stop having sex, do we?” She paused, smiled. “My job is to get Brian to a place where his sex drive is normal, where it’s just about making love. The techniques I use are the same as if I were working with someone who was…addicted to caffeine.”

Alexis frowned. She didn’t turn, but in her mind she stared Brian down. He had told on her! He had tried to compare his addiction to hers.

Dr. Perkins continued, “I’m sure you’re wondering why Brian is this way. What does a sex addict get out of it?” The doctor answered the questions, “What Brian gets is what drives most of us—endorphins. You’ve heard that term, correct?”

Alexis nodded.

The doctor explained anyway. “Endorphins are hormones that reduce one’s sensitivity to pain. It’s a brain drug that affects our emotions.” It was the way Alexis inhaled a deep breath that made the doctor ask, “Is this too much?”

I’m not confused,
Alexis wanted to tell her.
I’m just ready to go.
“No, it’s just that none of this matters.”

“Alexis, it’s important for you
not
to look at sexual addiction the way the world does. You’re in the middle of this crisis and you have to see it the way it actually is. Brian’s behavior was just a way for him to medicate himself.”

“Medicating from what?” Her tone screamed that she didn’t believe any of this.

“Most of the time it’s stress, although it can be as serious as trying to escape the memories of past abuse. We’ve determined with Brian,” she paused, looked at him as if she wanted to include him in the conversation, “that his addiction stemmed from stress, but it became what’s called a DCM—daily coping mechanism. Brian struggles with the pressures placed on him as a man, especially an African American male.”

Great
, Alexis thought. This theory better not get out. Or else there would be millions of black men cheating—now, in the name of racial stress.

The doctor continued, “In school, Brian felt he had to perform at the top of his class. With both of his parents being educators, that perfection was expected. Then, he became a doctor, an ophthalmologist, and right before you two were married, he changed his focus to newborns—a high-risk, high-stress specialty. That inside pressure had to have a place to go.”

“Come on, Doctor. Lots of people have stress.” Alexis stood, paced, and every time she passed Brian, she wanted to slap him upside his head. “I have stress. I own an advertising business with over thirty million dollars in billings. More than twenty people work for me. I have stress every day.”

The doctor nodded. “I’m sure you do. That’s one of the challenges of our society; the effects of stress are not taken seriously. But Alexis, I’m sure if you weren’t so upset, you’d realize that people handle stress differently. Some medicate with alcohol, with shopping, with overeating, overworking, oversleeping…and then there are some who do it with sex. Truthfully, one way is not better than others.”

If you’re married, your addiction can’t be sex.

The doctor added, “I don’t know how you handle stress, but I can assure you that you do something. You may overexercise, drink excessive amounts of caffeine, or medicate with drugs—marijuana, cocaine, heroin—it’s something.”

Alexis folded her arms and stood as stiff as a tree. She would never be moved. “I don’t do drugs.”

Dr. Perkins said, “That’s a good thing. I just want you to understand that Brian’s need for release is normal. It’s how he’s handled it that’s not normal. But neither is it normal to overeat or overdrink or overspend.

“The blessing in Brian’s behavior is that there are many who can’t handle stress at all. And those people are the ones who often take their own lives.” She stopped, letting the truth of her last words hang in the silence.

Alexis sank into her chair.
It’s that serious?
Now she glanced at Brian. And her heart softened—just a bit.

“Alexis,” the doctor said, as if she could see her anguish diminish, “you have to understand this to realize that the women Brian’s been with,” she paused as Alexis cringed, “they weren’t sexual beings to him. They were objects to help him release his pressure.”

Two thousand objects.
Her heart was hard again.

“So,” the doctor continued, “understanding the theory will help your marriage survive.”

This was her cue. The point where she would tell Brian and Cinderella that no amount of CPR could breathe life back into something that was dead.

The doctor said, “Alexis, I’m sure you have something in common with many spouses. Most want to know who their spouses were with. They want to know names, and times, and places.”

And how many!

The doctor continued, “None of that matters…”

All of that matters.

The images of her dream rushed back. All of those women. With their hands. And mouths. All over Brian.

“I can’t do this.” Alexis jumped up.

“I’m sorry,” Brian said, jumping from his chair as well.

“I’m sorry,” the doctor said, too, though she stayed behind her desk. “Maybe this was too much for today. We can stop.”

Alexis shook her head. Tightened her purse strap on her shoulder. “I’m leaving.”

Brian said, “We’re not finished.”

“Yes, we are.” She stared straight into his honey-colored eyes. “I can’t do this, Brian. I’ll have my attorney call you.” She spun around, marched toward the door.

“Alexis!” Brian shouted. “If I had cancer, would you leave me?”

His words made her stop.

“Would you?” he asked again.

She didn’t face him. But still, she didn’t move.

“Would you?” His voice was closer.

Now, she’d even stopped thinking.

“If you had cancer, I wouldn’t leave you.” This time it was a whisper and she could feel his breath on her ear. “Because I love you, Alexis. Always have. Always will.”

She inhaled, forced herself forward, and away from him. She dashed down the hall and out the door. But no matter how fast she ran, she couldn’t outrun the question he had asked. The question that shot bullets into the hard shell that covered her heart.

B
RIAN’S
B
LACK
B
ERRY VIBRATED
on his hip. He grabbed the PDA, read the text, then sank onto the barstool. He rested his elbows on the small table and massaged his eyes.

Jefferson slapped him on the back and slid onto the stool next to him. “Maybe you should just go home.”

Brian glanced around the sports bar crammed with men in suits, their ties loosened, their hands grasping mugs filled with beer—their release from a long week of work. Around the room, flat-screen televisions featured Friday night baseball games, but no one seemed to be watching.

“I’ll be all right,” Brian finally said. “Thanks for hanging with me. I needed a break and I don’t come to these places alone anymore.”

“I was thinking,” Jefferson said, scanning the menu, “maybe you should take some time off.”

“No, what would I do at home? Alexis hasn’t been there since Monday and she just text messaged me. She’s not coming home tonight.”

“What did she say?”

“For me to stop leaving messages; that she’s fine.” He sighed. “I don’t know what I’m going to do. I’ve been worrying nonstop not knowing where she is.” He paused. “Do you think Kyla knows?”

Jefferson shrugged. “I don’t know. But if she did—”

Brian held up his hand. “I know, she wouldn’t tell you, ’cause you might tell me.” He lowered his head into his hands once again, massaged his temples as if that would make his worries go away.

“What are you gentlemen having?” The waitress flung her waist-length weave over her shoulder, balanced an empty tray on one hand, and planted the other on her hip. She glanced at Jefferson, then smiled at Brian as if she knew he was the one she could get next to. “What can I get you?” She spoke just above a whisper, although the din of men enjoying their time away from work and wives rose above them.

He took in the white blouse tied at her waist, and the black skirt that did little to hide her thighs. But it was her fishnet stockings that made his nature rise. He grabbed a menu. “Ah, Jefferson, what are you having?”

“Just a Coke and a platter of wings.” He handed his menu to the waitress. “Make mine hot.”

“And what about you?” She turned back to Brian.

“The same.” He kept his eyes away from her. “But make mine mild.”

“Really? I would think you’d want ’em hot.” She laughed. “Okay, I’ll put this in for you.” She stepped closer to Brian, taking away his space to breathe. “You sure I can’t get you anything else?”

“We’re sure,” Jefferson said, rescuing his friend.

With a smile, she slithered away and Brian breathed. “That’s major temptation, man,” Brian said.

“Just hold on. The Bible says you’ll never be tempted beyond what you can bear.”

Brian nodded. “I’ve been bearing it. Dr. Perkins helped me identify the triggers. There seems to be a point that I get to when I’m under stress where I have to do something.” He pulled a candy bar from his pocket. “So now, instead of that candy—” With his chin, he motioned toward the waitress. “I do this.” He popped a piece of chocolate into his mouth. “Get my endorphins this way. Seems simple, but it works.” He smiled just a little.

“Whatever it takes to save your marriage.”

The bit of cheer he had went away. “Not sure that’s possible.”

“I thought when Alexis talked to Dr. Perkins that would be a turning point.”

“It was. Just wasn’t the turn I wanted. She hasn’t been home since.”

“She’s just trying to work through this. She’ll be home.”

He shook his head. “Even if she does come back that won’t be the end.”

“True.” Jefferson nodded. “But with Dr. Perkins you guys will make it.”

Brian stuffed a large piece of candy into his mouth as if he was trying to stop more words from coming out. The secret that he held inside had been percolating for over a year. And now it was bubbling over. He needed to speak it aloud. Hear how it sounded. Hear how it might sound to his wife.

He swallowed the last of the candy, then said, “If Alexis comes home, and finds out the complete truth, she won’t be able to handle it.”

“What can be bigger than what you two are already handling?”

Brian paused, glanced over his shoulder as if he was making sure no one but his friend was listening. He whispered, “One of the women I was with,” he paused, lowered his voice even more, “was Jasmine.”

It took a moment for his words to make sense to Jefferson. Then with wide eyes, he leaned away from Brian as if he was trying to get away from this news. “Jasmine Larson?”

He nodded.

“Whew!” Jefferson blew a long breath of air. “Man, Alexis hates Jasmine. And Kyla’s not too fond of her either.”

“That’s an understatement.”

After a moment, “Why and where—” Jefferson stopped himself. Held up his hand. “It doesn’t matter, B. It’ll still be fine.”

“How can you say that? You just said it yourself…my wife hates Jasmine.”

“But if Jasmine was just part of the illness and nothing more, Alexis will understand.”

Nothing more.
There was plenty more.

“But here’s the key, B,” Jefferson began, leaning closer to give his counsel, “you’ve got to tell Alexis now because if she finds out on her own…“He left his thought unfinished, knowing that Brian knew exactly what he meant. “But if you tell her now, it’s all part of the discovery of your illness. It’ll be hard, but you two will come through.” He paused. “Kyla and I did.”

“I keep telling you, your wife is different from mine.”

“You must’ve forgotten how long Kyla stayed away from me after she found me with Jasmine. Remember she left L.A.? I had to go to Santa Barbara to get her. All Kyla could think about was getting a divorce. But I stayed strong. And we made it, with a lot of work and total honesty. You and Alexis can do it. Trust that.”

Brian shook his head. He couldn’t see it—couldn’t see the scene where Alexis would wrap her arms around him and say, “I forgive you,” once she heard Jasmine’s name. “I’ll think about it.”

“And think about how when you come clean, there will be nothing left standing between you and Alexis.”

Brian lifted his glass, swallowed some water and the rest of his secret.

The waitress sauntered back with their plates and sodas. “Here you are,” she spoke to Brian. “Will there be anything else?”

But this time, Brian wasn’t even tempted. Just waved her away, then bowed his head. He prayed over his food, but his prayer was for more than what was on his plate.

It was a quick prayer, but he heard his answer. He lifted his head, opened his eyes. He knew what he had to do. It was the only chance he had to get his wife back.