“It’s not like it was hard. I never felt temptation. It wasn’t until Paul kissed me—really kissed me, the first time, in my bedroom—I almost liked it—I was so conflicted.”
“Conflicted?”
“Like I said, I almost liked it. That was a real problem for me.”
“So you never, almost liked anything like that before?”
“No. There’s only been one other boy I ever considered letting do that to me. I didn’t want to—it wasn’t that I was tempted. Roney was impatient and aggressive. Each time we made out, he’d push the intimacy, I’d freak out, and he’d stop. He frightened me—made me remember. But my friend made me feel like I had to—and I couldn’t let her know what was wrong with me. She’d ask me why I wouldn’t just do it, but I couldn’t tell her. Then Roney pulled the hurt feelings card and I felt so bad. I decided I had to let him.”
Paul noticed the way she’d said let him. She’d used the same terminology with him.
“How do you think that would have worked?” Keene asked. Rhees hung her head and shrugged.
“There’re a lot of things we have to do that are hard,” she mumbled. “But we have to just get through it, somehow. Roney was too impatient. It all blew up before I had to figure that out.”
“So there were no other memorable instances before your husband?”
“It was pretty easy to avoid sexuality where I grew up. At least for me and my hyper, I’d-rather-gut-myself-than-even-think-about-it, tendencies. I got engaged to one other man, but there was no intimacy there. We never reached the point in our relationship where I had to worry about it. Now that I think about it, I’m not sure what I would have done if we’d actually made it to our wedding night.” She seemed to be pondering something.
“Paul thinks Sean is gay. If that’s true, maybe Sean would’ve been okay with never consummating the marriage. None of this would have ever come out.” She slipped into her own head again.
“What about the drummer? You said he kissed you.” Paul decided to push for some clarification on that night. He already felt his heart being squeezed, the way she talked about all of it, as if she didn’t understand how telling her words were about their relationship.
“Rob didn’t paw me or put any pressure on me. He gave me one, slow, polite kiss. I saw it coming. I didn’t feel threatened by it. He was too nice.”
“He had his hands all over you, up on the stage.”
“No, he didn’t.”
Paul rolled his eyes. “That’s how I remember it.”
“He gave me a drum lesson. I guess, keeping my mind focused on not embarrassing myself on the drums kept it off of the fear of being raped, right there in front of a hundred people!” Her eyes danced and Paul could tell she almost giggled, but a grin twisted at her mouth instead. “Paul. I can’t believe you’re still jealous about the drummer and that one little kiss.”
He’d just witnessed the first hint of happy in her for days. Paul couldn’t help the grin he gave her in return. Keene interrupted with his next question.
“How did you come to wind up with Paul?” Keene asked. “Let’s explore how you overcame your fears to end up marrying him.”
“Um . . .” Rhees blushed and squirmed, having trouble deciding what she’d say. “The first two days, he scared me to death, but then . . .” It took her a second to choose her words again. “We had a misunderstanding. He hated me—”
“I didn’t hate her,” Paul interjected. “I wanted to, but hating her is not possible.”
She grinned again. “He did a very good job of pretending to hate me. It gave me a chance to get to know him without ever feeling threatened because there was no way I’d ever have sex with him. He reminded me—still reminds me . . . Paul has a lot of the same qualities I loved in my dad. He died a little over a year ago.”
“So how did you go from feeling safe from Paul’s advances to almost liking that first kiss, an obvious advance?” Keene prodded.
“It wasn’t our first kiss, but when we called our truce, we were supposed to be friends. I really believed we were just friends.” She glanced at Paul and he looked ashamed at how he’d used that to get close enough to try to take advantage of her.
“As I said, I’d had time to get to know him. I’d already fallen in love with him. He made me feel safe—even if he really wasn’t. I thought he’d be safe because we were just friends and he was still womanizing . . .” Rhees covered her face with her hands.
“Go ahead, Baby. It’s okay—it’s the truth. It won’t hurt my feelings.” Paul knew that was the reason she didn’t want to finish her sentence.
She nodded but she wouldn’t look up. “Paul wasn’t the kind of man you’d think could ever settle down—settle for just one woman—let alone me. When he kissed me that night, my heart liked it—for about five seconds until my head took over and I started to react in my usual way.
“We talked that night and he started asking me to let him help me through it. I found myself almost wanting him to—I had to stop those feelings the fastest way possible. I had to shut him down with the clearest message I could. I called him the epitome of every reason I had for wanting to wait. I felt so bad for saying something so cruel. I didn’t really mean it—it was just a defense mechanism because I felt desire for him, but I couldn’t allow that.”
Paul thought about that night. How creative she’d been. He’d been persuasive, persistent, but she’d cut him down effectively. She’d spent her whole life perfecting the art of cutting men down, cutting them off at the pass—stealthy and lethal. He understood.
“It was the best thing that could’ve happened to us,” Paul added. “It made me want to change, it did change me, and it gave Rhees the time she needed.”
“You are married now. Paul isn’t gay. Have you really thought that through?”
Her eyes shot to her husband. “Thought what through? Since that night, Paul’s been absolutely perfect, more than patient, while I worked through it. I trust him more than anyone. He put up with me when I couldn’t stand anyone, even him, touching me—until I could. For the first time in my life, my hormones were connected to Paul instead of what happened in that bathroom. I wanted him.”
She went silent as she and Paul watched each other, both uncertain how all that would fit into their relationship now. Paul again noticed the way she’d said, wanted, as in past tense, but he didn’t care. He’d finally seen flashes of happiness in her eyes and it assured him she’d be all right. He winked. Tough as nails.
“Marriage for victims of sexual trauma is statistically a difficult road.”
Paul and Rhees turned their gazes to Keene, waiting for the punch line, not realizing he’d already given it.
oOo
Rhees assured Paul it would be okay to sleep in the bed that night, but he still didn’t sleep well. He worried he’d do what he’d grown so used to doing in his sleep and pull her in to cuddle. Hearing her scream at him to not touch her was something he never wanted to experience again. He held her hand all night, the only part of her he dared to touch.
The next day, after another grueling session, Dr. Keene asked if he could speak to Paul, alone. Rhees agreed and stepped out onto the balcony.
“I mentioned it before, but marriage to a victim of childhood sexualization can be very difficult.” Keene leaned forward, conveying to Paul the importance of what he had to say. “You haven’t consummated this marriage yet. It might be easier for both of you if you got an annulment while it’s still simple and easy.”
“Annulment?” Paul yelled. “Why the hell would I do that?”
“No.” Rhees felt her heart stop.
She heard Paul say the word. The glass door wasn’t as soundproof as she’d expected. Her hand flew to her heart and she had to sit down on one of the patio chairs to catch her breath.
/> “He lied. He doesn’t want to be married to me now that he knows.” She felt blindsided. Her palms grew sweaty, jittery. The balcony suddenly seemed so far up from the street, she felt like she was going to fall off in spite of the secure railing. She couldn’t stay there any longer. She jumped up and knocked on the door to announce her presence as she opened it.
“I can’t stay out here. I’m sorry. Um . . . maybe I’ll go take a shower.” She ducked her head down and rushed through the room, on her way to the bathroom.
“You okay, Baby?” Paul called after her.
“Fine.” She disappeared as she ran through the dressing room and into the bathroom and then the shower. Frantically, she started turning knobs. She’d never seen so many in one shower, and didn’t know how they worked, but she needed to hear the water, hopeful the sound would drown out any more of Paul’s discussion about how he planned to leave her.
Water flowed from several directions, loud and clear, and she backed away until the wall stopped her from retreating further. She covered her eyes with her hands, slid down to the ground and just waited, dreading what she feared would happen next. She prayed over and over that Paul wouldn’t walk in any minute to tell her he didn’t want to be married to her anymore.
oOo
“I love Rhees.” Paul turned back to Keene and resumed their conversation.
Dr. Keene winced with concern. “Sometimes love isn’t enough.”
Paul gave him a dirty look. “It is for me.”
“She’s spent her whole life believing she’s dirty and bad. Even I’m amazed at the amount of effort, how creative she’s been at keeping it a secret for so long,” Keene said.
“But now, it’s out in the open. She can start to heal. It’ll be better.”
“It will get better.” Keene’s expression didn’t express optimism. “But let me describe your life if you stay with her, statistically speaking. I see how protective you are of her. You’re going to want to fix her. You can’t. Only she can do that, but too many of these victims don’t. She’ll accuse you of being controlling.”
“She already has,” Paul said with a chuckle. “Because it’s true, but she’s very good at letting me have it when I get carried away.”
“Okay. Touching has been a problem for her. Your patience with her worked, but even though it may be okay now—or was before this incident, I hope, for your sake, she can reach that point again, but even if she does, it’s possible that it will never be over completely. What seems okay to her one day may not be okay the next. It could change instantly. You could be having an intimate moment, but suddenly, she’ll start screaming at you to stop. You’ll never know when or why.” Keene watched Paul intently as he talked.
“No one seems to understand what I get out of this relationship.” Paul’s frustration came through in his tone. “I’ve had more than my fair share of women. Yeah, for most of my life, sex has been too important, but now,” he said, his voice trailing off. He struggled with the words.
“It didn’t take too long for me to realize I’d rather be with Rhees, without sex, than be without her. My self-imposed celibacy is the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Being with her in a non-physical way is the only thing that was ever going to snap me out of my . . .” Paul caught himself. He didn’t intend to be so open. Keene didn’t offer anything to help the awkward silence that had suddenly choked the room, so Paul jumped to finish his thought as quickly as possible.
“I won’t lie and tell you I haven’t had thoughts about it—fantasized about sex with her, but that is not the reason I married her. I’ll manage as long as she’s still in my life.”
Keene watched Paul for a minute but finally started rattling off more reasons why he thought being married to Rhees was a bad idea.
“Self-worth. Victims don’t usually have any. They become cynical, run away from their problems, turn to promiscuity, drug abuse, alcoholism. Their faith in relationships has been destroyed. They struggle to trust anyone. They’d rather be alone or they hold back rather than risk betrayal again. They can’t believe anyone could really love them.
“When they do find themselves in a relationship, they resist allowing those natural bonds to deepen. They won’t have as much to lose when their partners leave them, because they’re sure they will, or they act abnormally desperate to please their partners, trying to keep them. When things get tough, they’ll assume the relationship is over. They may think it’s better to end it before their partner has the chance to.
“They’re distrustful and insecure. It gets tiring, having to prove your love to them, time after time. They accuse their partners of cheating or they act out on a heightened sense of jealousy in bizarre ways.”
“Rhees is not a statistic. In fact, the picture you just painted sounds more like me than her,” Paul said cynically. Keene made a thoughtful face and wrote something down, which annoyed Paul even more.
“Rhees has lived a lifetime of fear and self-loathing. She’ll have to learn a whole new set of thought processes, patterns. Most people struggle to learn a few. I just don’t see her getting past this. She’s structured her whole life around it.”
“This life you say she’s structured around this has been amazing. She’s an incredible person. She’s perfect. She’s managed her life through all this shit better than I have mine.”
“Maybe you should share your shit with me.” Keene raised an eyebrow.
“No.” This was supposed to be about Rhees, and Paul didn’t like the inference. “And bottom line, Rhees has been affected by this since I’ve known her. I’ve been dealing with it all along—I just didn’t know it. Knowing won’t change anything, or if it does, it can only get better.”
Memories of the time he and Rhees had spent together ran through his mind and made him smile. “I’ll deal with it, whatever happens. I love her. I’ll do everything in my power to give her whatever she needs.”
“For the amount of money you’re paying me, and the amount of information I’m gleaning from both of you, I’m going to consider you both my patients.”
Paul glowered at the doctor at first, understanding the insinuation, again, but upon reflection, he couldn’t help the slowly forming grin creeping over his face. He didn’t need a psychiatrist, not anymore. Probably—definitely—one might have helped a few years before, but now . . .
“Knock yourself out, Doc.”
Keene harrumphed, a little too sure of himself. “Don’t dismiss the idea of annulment so quickly. Think about it. If your marriage is going to fall apart, it might be best to end it now, while you can still be friends.”
“We won’t fall apart,” Paul said tersely. He’d grown very annoyed with the man charging him a fortune to tell him things he didn’t want to hear.
oOo
Paul heard the shower running and it pleased him to see Rhees finally ready to get cleaned up after so many days, but he worried—she’d been in there too long. She never took long showers. Yes, the hotel had warm water, but still, too long. He fought the urge as long as he could, but finally peered around the corner, just to check on her.
Rhees sat on the shower floor, curled up into the little ball that always made her feel a little safer when she didn’t really feel so safe. She held her head down as water poured over her from all directions in the elaborate plumbing design. Something was wrong.
He inched cautiously through the bathroom to the door of the shower, not really sure what to do, but he couldn’t leave her there like that.
“The water’s warm,” she said, startling him. She hadn’t given him any reason to believe she knew he was there. “My parents showered together almost every day, for as long as I can remember. I thought that’s just what married people did.
“In junior high, I overheard some girls in the bathroom at school. One of their sisters had jus
t come back from her honeymoon and the girl was telling her friends how her sister’s new husband had picked the lock on the bathroom door and climbed into the shower with his new bride.
“The girls all squealed, like it was horrible, or embarrassing or something. For me—I saw nothing horrible about it. I just wondered how they didn’t know that married people are supposed to shower together. Of course, considering my problem with all that, I thought it really was just showering. I’d never thought about my parents—you know.”
She looked up at him, her eyes teary with sadness. “But I’ve always believed married people are supposed to shower together. The cold showers at home are going to kind of ruin it, you know? Even if I ever do get over this . . .” Her voice trailed off, giving way to her weeping.
As she told her story, Paul leaned his back against the wall at the entrance of the shower. He put his hands in his pockets, his head drooped down, and his eyes closed as he listened. He took a long, deep breath and exhaled before he grabbed a towel and walked into the shower, clothes and all. He drew her up from the floor, wrapped the towel around her body and then lifted her into his arms. She wrapped herself around him and he held her lovingly, his soaked clothes and her towel between them as they took their first shower together as a married couple.
Chapter 9
Rhees lay on her side, watching Paul sleep. He never slept so late. At seven forty-six, he finally opened his eyes, but didn’t notice her watching him. He looked at the clock and seemed alarmed until he looked around the room, taking in his surroundings. He relaxed, as if just realizing he wasn’t in their own bed at home. His eyes settled on the drawn curtains making the room darker than it should have been at that hour.
“Huh. All this laying around is wearing me out,” he muttered before he noticed her scrutinizing him. He rolled to face her. “What’re you thinking?”
Wet Part 3 Page 13
