Jesus, I’m a bastard. This girl has me fucking twisted. I’m serious, though, I’m done. If she wants more, wants me, she has to be the one to make a move. I’m still here. In the same place she left me four years ago.
Charlotte
“What’s going on?” Dr. Reynolds asks, wrinkles in her forehead. I skipped my last two sessions and was late today. After the incident with Travis, I locked myself in my apartment for two weeks. I’ve barely eaten, and know I look a wreck.
“I messed up.”
“Okay. Care to elaborate?”
“See, there’s this guy. I met him when I was seventeen; he’s a few years older than me.” I twist my hair in my fingers, trying to work out some of the nerves. “Anyway, the last summer before my dad died, we were visiting, and that’s when I met him. To make a long story short, I lied to him about my age and ended up sleeping with him. He took my virginity thinking I was older.” I never told her about him before this point. I know her job is to be objective, but I don’t want her judging me any more than she already is.
I stand to get a better view of the city out of the big picture window. “I’m not a romantic. I don’t believe in fairy tales. But this guy… we’re supposed to be together.” I angle my neck to watch a bird fly away. “The thought, the hope, that we still had a future together, is what got me through everything. Todd was a distraction that I let go too far.” She starts to talk, but I cut her off. “Let me get this out, please.”
“Of course, continue.”
“I won’t bore you with the details, but we kind of got back together. Not sexually. I’m not ready for that.” Sighing, I wring my fingers together. I want to be ready, but I’m too scared.
“Every time I’m with him it’s like I have split personality disorder. One minute he makes me happy, the next I’m scared shitless. I said some really hurtful things a couple weeks ago after I had a breakdown, and he hasn’t called me since.”
“What made you have a breakdown?”
“He joked about me lying about my age. The guilt made me sick, and when I was puking in the toilet, it reminded me of Todd.” I turn and look into her eyes, begging for an answer. “Is everything going to remind me of that asshole?”
“No, it’s not. You may have triggers, but you're a very strong woman, Charlotte. Now, you said when you’re with him, you’re scared sometimes. What about him scares you? Are you afraid your relationship will end up similar to the one you had with Todd?”
“No. God, no. Nothing like that. He’d never hurt me. I’m so afraid to lose him. I’m afraid that once he finds out the ugly reality that is my past, he’ll want nothing to do with me anymore.”
“How will you know if you never give him a chance?”
Dr. Reynolds doesn’t justify my behavior. She gives it to me straight, which is one of the reasons I like her so much. She’s right; I need to tell Travis. If I want to have any type of relationship with him, I need to be honest.
* * *
It’s been almost four weeks since my incident with Travis. I’ve been doubling my therapy sessions and made a lot of peace with my past. I know I’ll never be over it, but I woke up three days ago with a sense of clarity that I haven’t felt for at least four years.
Dr. Reynolds said I had my ‘firework moment’, sparks lit, then faded away into nothing but memories. That’s what Todd is — a memory. I’m done with letting him ruin my life. It’s time to move on. The first thing I need to do is make things right with Travis. He hasn’t called, and the thought of him giving up on us tears me apart. I need to talk to him in person. He has to know everything.
I ran into Pierce earlier today at the gym, and he told me it’s Travis’ weekend off, so I know I should be able to catch him at his apartment. After working out for a bit, I head home and take an exceptionally long bubble bath. I order Chinese for myself and eat while putting my clothes on. I dress simple; a pair of black leggings and a sheer grey top with a black cami underneath. My hair is down, and I put some loose flowing waves in it with the curling iron. I drive to his place nervously tapping my leg.
I can picture this going really good, or really bad, and both scare me. If it goes bad, he won’t want me to be in his life at all, and I’ll lose him. My stomach forms knots at the thought. If it goes really good, that will mean he’ll want to give our relationship a chance. But that also means I have to be honest with him and tell him everything.
I take a deep breath and walk to the metal door outside his building. Pushing the buzzer, I wait for a reply, but get nothing. What did I expect? It’s nine on a Friday night, I’m sure he’s out on a date. I decide to go over to where Meara’s bartending to pass the time.
My Aunt Sally and Uncle Rick own The Pub. It’s been in my family for three generations, originally built by my great-grandfather on my dad’s side. It hurt my dad to walk away from it, but teaching was always his passion. He still owned part of the pub and was involved in major decisions, just not the day-to-day stuff. When my parents died, their ownership transferred to me. I try to save most of the money I get from it, but since I’m not working right now, it’s what pays the bills.
“Hey, you look much better today!” Pierce picks me up and gives me a huge hug. He’s one of the bouncers tonight. The whole family pitches in as much as they can. I used to bus tables and clean when I was younger. When I came back, until I was seventeen, I’d waitress during the day.
“Yeah, I feel better.” And I am. I feel like my old self again. He’s wearing sunglasses and an earpiece. “You going for the whole Men in Black theme or something?”
“Nah, we’ve had some rowdy crowds lately. Summer vacation is almost over, and these fucking college kids don't know how to have a good time without acting like a bunch of adolescents.”
“So you need sunglasses in the dark for that?” I tease, tapping his lenses.
“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”
“Love you!” I yell, pushing through the heavy wooden door. I take in my surroundings and smile. I love this place. There’s a huge wooden bar running down the center. The high tables that surround it are all full. Almost every bar stool is occupied as well. Old wood and heavy metal make up the furniture that I remember my dad and uncle polishing over the years.
A group of guys holler, and my attention is drawn upstairs. Pool and ping-pong tables, dartboards, and vintage arcade games take up the top level. My cousins and I used to have a ball when we were younger playing upstairs before working hours.
“Holy shit! She exists!” Meara shouts over the crowd, and I laugh, flipping her off along the way to the bar. She’s been supportive of me and given me the space I need while I come to terms with what happened with Todd.
“Yeah, I decided to start living again.”
She gives me a small smile, and her eyes get moist. Never one to cry, she shakes her head and covers her emotions with a smart-ass comment. “’Bout damn time! I was starting to think you had a secret collection of cats or something.”
“Shut up and give me a beer.”
She expertly pours from the tap and hands me the ice-cold beer. I have idle chitchat with her until it starts to get busier. She becomes swamped, and sends me a pleading look to come help her. I shake my head and mouth the word ‘no’ across the bar. She sticks out her bottom lip and bats her eyelashes.