Page 23

23

Stella

“I ’m so sorry I’m late and missed my appointment yesterday without giving you prior notice. Something…unexpected came up,” I tell Annie when I rush into her office the next day, two minutes late. I remove my purse, then my white coat before taking my usual seat in my matching sweater dress and knee-high brown boots.

Settled in my usual spot on the sofa with my legs crossed, I look up at the woman and find her studying me silently in her pink sweater that is the same color as today’s frames.

Is she pissed at me?

No, there’s a half-smile on her face as if there’s some inside joke I’m missing.

“Is everything okay?”

“Absolutely. Of course,” she replies too quickly, too adamantly. “I hate that you couldn’t make it yesterday, but I’m glad you could come in today.”

“Sure.”

“So, where should we begin? Should we talk about how things are going with your new husband? The man you had to marry?”

Oh crap.

“There’s not much to say.”

“Are you two getting along well?”

I look away, my face heating at the reminder of my ridiculous display of jealousy in his office yesterday.

“What are you thinking about?” Annie questions me, obviously noticing my reaction.

“Yesterday, I did something stupid.”

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

Recrossing my legs in front of me, I try to figure out where to begin. “I was going to visit my husband at work because I was pissed at him…”

“Why were you pissed at him?”

“He was being…overprotective.”

“Okay. You think he’s overprotective.” Annie writes that down. “Do you think he’s controlling as well?”

“Controlling?” I repeat.

She looks up from her notepad. “Do you feel that he may overstep boundaries in controlling what you do or don’t do?”

“Ah, no not really. I mean, yes, he had me followed, but I don’t think he cares where I go. He just wants to make sure I’m safe.”

“He had you followed?” she repeats.

“Yes.”

“Do you think he’s aware you’re coming here for therapy sessions?”

“No. I don’t really care if he does, I guess. It’s not like he’ll find out what we discuss, right?”

“Right,” she agrees with a reassuring nod. “I apologize for interrupting. Please continue where you left off. You went to see him at work yesterday because you were angry at him?”

“Yes. God, I was so furious he didn’t tell me about his shadows following me, but then when I entered his office and I met his assistant.”

“Oh?”

“This young…bitch was practically flashing her tits and ass at him!”

“Your husband’s assistant?”

“Yes. That just made me even more furious since we’re married now.” I hold up my left hand and the wedding rings on them. “Like how could she be so disrespectful now that he’s taken?”

“Did you speak to your husband about your concerns?”

“Yes. And he fired her right then and there. Which was great. I was thrilled about that, until he gave her three months paid leave while she finds a new job.”

Her brow furrows. “That sounds…generous of him.”

“Too generous for that skanky bitch.”

Annie bites her lip as if to keep from smiling at my insult.

“After she left, I sort of lost my mind.”

“You and your husband still had a fight?”

I shake my head and scrub my palms over my face, unable to look at her when I say, “Worse. I gave him a blowjob, and then we fucked on his desk.”

When she doesn’t comment, I glance up to see her reaction. Annie’s eyes have never been so wide behind her glasses. It takes her a moment to speak, her lips opening and closing twice. “You…you had consensual intercourse with your husband in his office?”

“Yes.”

“That you initiated?” she clarifies.

“Yes. I practically attacked him.”

“I’m trying to understand why you feel intercourse is worse than a fight. Could you explain that to me?”

“Because I hate that I want him, that I’m so attracted to him. I was jealous and I wanted to make him forget about her, about every other woman in the world!”

“You felt out of control?”

“Oh, I knew exactly what I was doing.”

“And was it…enjoyable for you as well?”

“It was. At the time. Then, I felt so embarrassed.”

“Why would you be embarrassed about being attracted to your husband, or being jealous of another woman overstepping her boundaries with him?”

“I don’t know. I guess because if I give in, if I’m…vulnerable with him, then he will have the power to hurt me. I think I’m worried that what was just a physical attraction is turning into more…”

“Do you think you worry about those things because you married him out of obligation?”

“Yes. Probably. Our marriage, it was supposed to be just a piece of paper. A business arrangement. Nothing more. I shouldn’t have had sex with him on our wedding night.”

“You two also had intercourse the night of your wedding?”

I wince. “Did I forgot to mention the deal I made Andre?”

“Yes, you did. What kind of deal?”

“So, I told him that if he could help me convince my mom we were an actual couple, that it wasn’t an arranged marriage for the families, then I’d give him what I knew he’d wanted for years — me.”

“You?”

“Yes. He asked me out, and it was pretty obvious he wanted to be with me.”

“He succeeded in convincing your mother?”

“Yes. And I kept my side of the agreement — to let him do what he wanted with me on our wedding night — sex.”

“Were you in control of the intimacy that night?” Annie asks.

“Yes. I was in control. It was all consensual. I thought he’d be a selfish lover, make it all about himself. But he didn’t. If anything, he was…very attentive to my needs. I had way more orgasms than he did.”

“You enjoyed it?”

“Every freaking second,” I admit to her and myself with a heavy sigh.

“Why do you sound unhappy about that? Is it for the same reason you felt embarrassed about the intercourse in his office? You were vulnerable with him?”

“Yes. It was…that night was more intimate than I anticipated. I was more sober than I planned to be, so I remember it all.”

“You threw away years of sobriety to get drunk so you could get through the night?” she questions with a single arched eyebrow that I know means she disapproves.

“I made Andre a deal, and he came through. I wasn’t going to back out because of my…issues.”

“Have you considered being honest with your husband about your intimacy issues? Or at least tell him about your triggers?”

“God, no!”

“Why not? Why are you so adamant about not telling him about your history?”

I shrug. “Again, that would require being vulnerable, and I hate the thought of giving him that power over me. I don’t want his pity either. And…”

“And?” She encourages me to keep going, to finish voicing my thought.

“And he may not believe me.”

“You don’t trust him enough to tell him what happened to you?”

“Exactly. I mean, if I can’t trust my own father or brothers to believe me, then I’m sure as hell not going to trust a Ferraro.”

“You don’t think your brothers and father would believe you?”

“I don’t know. My father and Izaiah are dead now. Telling Saint…that’s not something I’m willing to chance bringing up with him,” I explain. “Besides, he’s got his hands full cleaning up the mess our father left.”

“What about your mother or sister or a friend? Have you told anyone besides me?”

“No. It would break my mother’s heart and Cami…she lives in this whole little bubble of innocence. I don’t want to burst it.”

“So, you haven’t told your mother or sister because you’re trying to protect them?”

“Yes. Besides, it was so long ago —”

“We’ve talked about that,” Annie interrupts. “Time does not erase our painful memories. Those stay with you, right at the front of your mind, as if they happened yesterday.”

“That’s true, I guess. But it doesn’t make any sense to tell them now. Maybe I should’ve told someone back then, but the same applies. Cami was still in high school. My dad isn’t someone I could talk to about… that . And it would’ve just hurt my mother, possibly causing a rift between her and my father.”

“You don’t have to have an explanation for not telling others about your trauma, Stella. It’s always been up to you to decide who knows, who you can trust. Sharing could be cathartic, but it’s not necessary. I’m just trying to understand your perspective.”

“Right. Are we about done for the day?”

“If there’s nothing more you think we need to discuss?”

“I wish…I wish you could tell me that my intimacy with Andre won’t lead to love or devastation, but I know you’re a therapist, not a psychic.”

Annie gives me a soft smile. “I’m not psychic, but I will be here to help you every step of the way if you decide to let down some of your walls with Andre, to trust him enough to be vulnerable with him. Opening yourself up to someone can be scary. There’s always a risk of being hurt. You just have to decide if it’s worth it or not.”

“And if it’s not? If I refuse to let myself touch Andre again?”

“Then, you’ve made the decision for yourself, to protect yourself first and foremost. You are not required to give any piece of yourself to your husband or anyone else, Stella.”

I nod in understanding. “I hate that orgasms feel so good, that they force me to let my guard down.” That the ones Andre gives me are so good, they make me feel happy and safe, like I could stay in bed with him forever.

“Intercourse and the resulting orgasms are perfectly healthy when it’s consensual. It’s okay to let yourself enjoy it.”

“How do I enjoy it when every single one makes me feel…closer to him?”

“That closeness is healthy too. And while I know you worry about letting yourself be vulnerable with your husband, just remember he’s doing the same. He’s opening up to you, opening himself up to being vulnerable. It’s possible…”

“What’s possible?” I ask when she trails off and leaves me hanging.

“It’s possible that his feelings for you could manifest in different ways than yours, such as by being overprotective.”

“Having men follow me, you mean?” I ask.

“Having you followed or…confronting your therapist at gunpoint to ensure your secrets remain safe with her.”

“What?” That scenario sounds specific, like one she’s personally experienced. “Oh my God! Andre held you at gunpoint?”

She pushes her glasses up the bridge of her nose. “I was torn on whether or not I should tell you…”

“Of course you should tell me if my fucking husband threatens you with a gun!” I get to my feet, snatching up my coat and purse, ready to go confront him. How dare he scare my therapist? It’s none of his business what we talk about.

“Stella, wait,” Annie calls as she follows me to the door. “He was testing me, to make sure I wouldn’t give him your records.”

I scoff. “Yeah, right. He was trying to find out what I talk to you about.”

“That’s what I thought at first, too,” she says when I turn to face her. “But I think he really was just making sure you’re okay, that I’m someone worthy of your trust.”

“I can’t believe him,” I huff with a shake of my head.

“Just consider things from his perspective before you berate him. Could his threat be caused from his sense of worry for you because of his feelings?”

“He’s a guy! The only things he feels is the hole where he’s pounding his hard dick.”

“Your husband may be…a ruthless man, but remember that he is not the men who hurt you.”

“ Yet . He hasn’t hurt me yet,” I whisper.

The words come unbidden from the dark corner of my mind. While I don’t think Andre would ever physically injure me, there are plenty of other ways for him to hurt me.

“Stella…” Annie calls out as I jerk open her door and storm out of her office.