CORAL (A Romance Trilogy, Book 1)

by Delaney, Clair

  George studies me for a moment then crosses his leg. “Men are very different to women Coral. Do you think he’s organized birthday surprises for his other members of staff? Or offered to drive goodness knows how many miles to come and see you, because he simply ‘cares about his staff’ no, I don’t think so.” I frown at George not knowing where he’s going with this. My leg starts jigging up and down, a sure sign that I’m nervous. “So tell me about the dream,” George adds.

  I exhale slowly my cheeks expanding and stare out of the window. “I kind of don’t want to tell you...it felt like...well like it was private,” I say looking back at him. George shakes his head at me.

  “Nothing’s private Coral, not when you’re in therapy.” He tells me softly. Grrrrrrr!

  “Fine!” I snap and reel off how the dream went, how it made me feel. When I finish George doesn’t say a word, he’s frantically taking notes on his pad. Finally he looks up at me.

  “It’s not something we’ve ever covered Coral so I’m intrigued, do you want to get married?”

  I vehemently shake my head. “No. It’s never been on the cards for me.” I state firmly.

  “Yet, you felt contented, peaceful?” He queries.

  “It was just a dream.” I answer dully.

  “I’d like you to consider that possibility for yourself.”

  My eyes shoot up to his – Is he joking? I snort sarcastically at that one. “George, I don’t believe in it ok. I don’t think marriage has any value so there’s no point asking me to consider it.”

  “Why?” He asks cocking his head to the side.

  “Because...I...I just don’t,” I shrug. “Look, I get what you’re saying, I really do. But I can’t even imagine myself in a relationship, so I think throwing marriage in there is a bit...well silly.” I say, feeling a little resentful.

  “One step at a time Coral, I would strongly suggest you consider it as being a possibility in your future. I really want you to start opening yourself up to all possibilities. You have just as much right to the deep happiness you felt in that dream as anyone else on the planet.”

  “Fine,” I say wanting to get off the subject. “I’ll consider it.” I add rolling my eyes.

  “Good,” George says. “Now, how did your evening go with Gladys?”

  “Fine,” I answer.

  “That’s a lot of fines,” George scolds. “Elaborate please, Coral.”

  “There’s not really much to say. Gladys is happy, Malcolm is nice, really nice actually’ – I scowl at the floor – ‘they’re getting married on my birthday.”

  George raises his eyebrows. “And how do you feel about that?” he asks.

  “Quite honestly, I don’t care. It’s the middle of the week. They just want a small do and that’s the date the Hilton can get them in.” George nods as he listens to me. “You know, I’ve thought about a lot of things this week. And as far as Gladys is concerned, it was going to happen someday, right? And I guess I’m trying to do what you tell me to do. To be less afraid of change, to understand that I can't control everything, and as sad as I am that both Joyce and Gladys are leaving, there’s not much I can do about it, so I’m rolling with the punches.”

  “I’m very glad to hear you say that Coral, that’s a very positive reaction.” George smiles warmly at me. “And like it or not, I think deep down, way down there in your subconscious you’re not feeling so afraid because you already have someone else to lean on, someone you know you can depend on.”

  I frown back at him. “I know I have that, I have Rob.” I state.

  George shakes his head at me. “I wasn’t talking about Rob, I was talking about Tristan.”

  “Tristan. Is. My. Boss.” I hiss enunciating each word – Honestly, can’t he get that?

  “That maybe so, but I think you’d better start letting your real feelings for him come to the surface Coral.”

  “What real feelings?” I question, laughing sarcastically at him. He cocks his head to the side, folds his hands in his lap and waits patiently for me - Argh! I stand up and start pacing the room.

  “Coral, please sit back down.” I cross my arms in a huff, and sit back down on the sofa.

  “What I am trying to say to you is that you wouldn’t be having the type of dream that you had, unless you are fighting how you truly feel for him. So if I was to ask you to be brutally honest with yourself and say it out loud’ – “I can’t,” I shout, interrupting George. “It doesn’t matter how much I like him. It doesn’t matter that I have dreamt about him. It doesn’t matter that he’s the best man I’ve ever met in my entire life. I’m not good for him!” I yell, thumping my fist on the sofa and choking back the tears that have thickened my throat.

  “Yes you are,” George says in his quiet, calming voice.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. I feel guilty for shouting at him. “Sorry.” I whisper.

  “No need.” He says.

  I sigh again and open my eyes. “George,” I say softly. “He’s a good man who deserves a happy, healthy, emotionally balanced woman by his side. You know what I’m like, I self-destruct everything...”

  “That’s your fears talking.” George retorts.

  “I know it’s my fears,” I bark back, gritting my teeth.

  “Coral, I really want you to answer the question. How do you feel about him?”

  “I love him!” I shout. “Is that what you wanted to hear? I’m already in love with him and I’ve only spent a few hours with him and I…” I stop myself there. “It’s best left alone,” I snap.

  “Good, well done Coral.” George praises.

  “How is that good?” I mumble.

  “It’s good because once you open yourself up to the possibility of a relationship with him, your subconscious will start to work in your favour. You want him, you love him, but your fears are holding you back.”

  I shake my head in wonder. “Why would he want me?” I snap. “I’m nothing, a broken empty vessel. I have nothing to offer him. How can he want someone who doesn’t love themselves, it makes no sense at all. Why the hell would he want this?” I spit, gesturing to all of me.

  “Coral!” George gasps. “I thought we had made progress in this area? Do you still feel like that? Are you still suffering with self-abhorrence issues?” George looks horrified.

  I squeeze my eyes shut. “Yes…no,” I take a deep breath. “He’ll leave me,” I whimper. “I know he will.”

  “You can't know that,” George argues. “And there’s no guarantee in any relationship Coral. They take work, love, openness and commitment, and even then it’s not set in stone. When a person enters into a relationship they do so with a factor of risk. They could be very happy, yet their partner leaves them or vice-versa, nothing is guaranteed in this life, and nobody can say for sure that they will be together until the day they die.” He softly says.

  I swipe at the angry tears that have started to fall down my cheeks, one after the other.

  “Coral, I need you to be honest with me. Are you still in the place you were when we started your sessions? Do you really feel that way about yourself? Have we made no progress at all?”

  I sniff loudly and shake my head at him. “I am a little better George, which has only been possible with your help. I guess what I'm trying to say is, I know me, I know what I’m like. The closer I get to him, the more I’ll start pulling away....” I shake my head and grit my teeth. “I don’t want to hurt him,” I whisper.

  George is frantically writing again. “So what you’re saying is this isn’t about self-abhorrence, it’s about your worth and your fears of him leaving, like your father did?”

  I look up at George with wide, tear stained eyes and slowly nod. “Darling girl, you have to start to understand that a relationship with a lover is very different to a parent. If you dated Tristan and he decided it wasn’t working for him; he won’t just disappear like your father did, it doesn’t work that way. And you are worthy.” He adds.

  I sob into my hands
– This is too heavy, I can’t do this.

  “Coral, I suggested talking with Tristan. I’m going to set that as part of your therapy. Like it or not, I want you to start opening up to him. I’m not asking you to tell him everything, just a little bit at a time. Maybe start with your fears, your fears of him leaving, the fear of self-destructing the relationship. When one is armed with information, it is so much easier to look at it from a solution base rather than a preventative base.”

  “You’re setting me an assignment?” I gasp in anger; my tears come to an abrupt stop.

  “Yes,” he answers firmly.

  “No,” I bite back shaking my head in disapproval – I can’t do that.

  “Coral, I can only help you so far. And quite frankly, I think you need the push, especially in this direction.”

  “I won’t do it,” I sulk, crossing my arms in defiance.

  “Then you leave me no choice but to halt out sessions for now.” I glare back at him.

  “Well that’s just great,” I snap in exasperation.

  “One step at a time Coral,” he reiterates.

  “Fine,” I snap back. “I’ll try telling him...something,” I blurt, my hand flying in the air.

  “Good, now our agreement.” He says calmly, watching my reaction. I close my eyes and squeeze my hand into fists. I take a deep breath and exhale slowly. I have no choice now, I have to tell him.

  Swallowing three times, I hear the words come out of my mouth. “I was raped,” I whisper. I hear George gasp, and because I’m worried about his reprimand; I keep my eyes closed.

  “When?” He whispers.

  “Two years ago,” I answer my voice flat. It doesn’t sound like me.

  “But...but that’s how long you’ve been seeing me?” He says disbelievingly.

  “Yes,” I whisper. “That’s why I initially started seeing you, but every time I got close to telling you, I chickened out.” I keep my eyes closed, for some unexplainable reason it’s helping to keep me calm; and stopping me from imploding. I hear George stand, seconds later I feel the sofa sag next to me as he sits down, he takes one of my hands in his.

  “Darling girl,” he softly says, gently squeezing my hand. “You said on Tuesday you made a mistake?” he says bleakly.

  I nod my head and finally open my eyes, then turn and meet George’s shocked expression. “I know I should have told you...before, I’m sorry.” I croak.

  “Being raped isn’t a mistake Coral.” He softly says. I sniff loudly and swipe at the silent tears – Fucking tears they’re pissing me off now!

  “It was for me. I was stupid, I never should have…” I cringe as I recall that fateful night.

  “No sweetheart, that’s not how it works. I take it you said no, rejected him in some way?” I nod silently. “Then you didn’t make a mistake, he forced himself on you.” George takes a deep breath in, slowly blows it out and continues. “Did you report it?” He softly asks.

  I close my eyes and silently shake my head. I hear him gasp. “Why ever not?” he says in disbelief.

  I squeeze my eyes shut tighter, remembering why. “Because he scared the life out of me George, I thought, well, I was worried that he knew where I lived, and to be quite honest I’ve never seen a pair of eyes with such malicious intent. What happened to me as a kid was bad enough, his eyes were pretty terrifying, but this guy, maybe because I’m an adult now, I don’t know…he told me he’d kill me,” I whimper. “George I was so scared.” I choke back the tears, my hands balling into fists, makes me so fucking angry thinking about it.

  “Give me a moment.” George softly says and leaves the room. A minute later he’s back at my side, I open my eyes and he hands me a large glass of amber liquid. “Courvoisier,” he explains.

  I take a sip and swallow, feeling it warm my insides as it smoothly makes its way down to my stomach. I take another sip, then decide to take a gulp which I know you shouldn’t do with Brandy, but I know George is going to want details and I think it’s going to help me get it all out; it really burns as it trickles down.

  “Want to tell me about it?” He softly asks.

  “Not really,” I choke, even though I know I should.

  “I understand,” George coos.

  I turn and look at him, he looks really shaken. “Are you ok?” I croak.

  “No,” he answers sternly. “I’m not.”

  “Oh George, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you’ – “I’m not upset with you Coral, I’m upset with myself…” He stares blankly ahead, deep in thought.

  “Don’t,” I whisper. “I’m very good at hiding things George; don’t punish yourself for not seeing this.”

  His eyes dart up to meet mine. “But I should have seen,” he chastises. “I’m a therapist, I’ve dealt with so many women who’ve been raped. I’ve always know, seen it before they’ve admitted it…but with you…” He drifts off again, rubbing his fingers across his forehead.

  “Please George, I don’t think you realise how accomplished I am at keeping my emotions at bay. I always have my game face on, my mask, as I call it. I’m very good at pretending everything is ok, when it’s not. Remember how long it took you to get me talking about my childhood?” He slowly nods his head. “It’s like keeping it in my head, doesn’t make it real, saying it out loud does.” Amazingly I start to smile. “Just like you getting me to admit how I really feel about Tristan, I know things will be different now, so please George, don’t feel bad.” I plead, squeezing his hand back.

  Then I have a moment of clarity. If I tell George what happened, he might be able to help me and the nightmares might stop? And in all honesty I’m tired of being scared about it.

  “I have nightmares about it,” I whisper.

  George squeezes my hand. “I’m sure you do,” he whispers back.

  “Last one was on Tuesday night. When you worked out that I was holding something back, and you said I had to tell you about it. I felt so fearful, so vulnerable that it came to me again, I woke up in such a state; it makes me feel so dirty, and every time I wake up from it I throw up, I don’t know how much more my stomach can take. And I cried George, for the first time in twenty-five years, I cried. It felt very cathartic, like you said it’s a release, but I still feel like I shouldn’t cry, that it’s a sign of weakness, but I did, I let it all out.” My eyes fill with unshed tears again. I chuckle at myself. George smiles softly at me and squeezes my hand. He’s so good with me, so patient.

  “It happened about a month before I bought the studio. As you know Gladys and I had been looking for studios for a while, but nothing was coming up that I really liked. I was feeling really melancholy, the very thought of still being with Gladys when I hit thirty was depressing me, I was feeling so miserable that I was never going to find anything, and I was still hurting about Justin. I had no friends, no social life and to make matter worse, Gladys had gone away for the weekend. One the one hand I loved having the house to myself, but on the other, I was lonely, I felt empty, scared, and vulnerable. So, to try and take my mind of it all I decided to go for a run on the beach. That’s when I met him.” I take a deep breath and try to stay focused.

  “Let me get you another,” he whispers taking my empty glass off me. When he returns, I notice he has one too. Sitting next to me, he smiles weakly at me and hands me the glass.

  “Thanks,” I whisper and take a sip. “So I’m running on the beach and I notice this guy, he’s running too. When I stop to take a breather, he comes over to me and we start talking. We had so much in common, before I knew it an hour had passed and it only felt like five minutes. He told me he was from London and had come down for a long weekend, he said he’d split from his girlfriend, he seemed genuinely cut up about it. I told him about Justin, it felt like we were kindred spirits, you know…” I take a deep breath and another swig of brandy.

  “I relished the company, having someone to talk to, someone my own age. Anyway, he asked to see me that night, I was so excited I really thought there was
some potential there. I thank god everyday that I decided to meet him in town, he wanted to pick me up at the house, but my instinct was telling me not to do that. I thought that tiny nagging feeling of fear was just my usual self-protectiveness coming through, but I guess I was picking up on the fact that he was dangerous, that I should be careful.” I take another drink.

  “We had a great night, I felt very connected to him on every level, we laughed, we talked non-stop; I was fascinated with him. When the pub closed he asked me to take a walk with him along the promenade, he took my hand in his he couldn’t stop gazing at me. I felt like there was something really big there, he told me he wanted to see me again the following weekend, I agreed and that’s when he kissed me; he was so gentle, it was such a sweet kiss. We didn’t want to leave one another, so I agreed to go to his hotel for more drinks.

  “When the hotel bar closed, he asked me to come up to his room, I told him I wasn’t that kind of girl, but he assured me it was just for another drink. He’s been a perfect gentleman all evening, so I didn’t see any harm in it and I certainly didn’t see any danger. Hand in hand, we walked up to his room chatting the whole time. He opened the door and gestured for me to go first, which I did, but when he closed the door behind me, he turned into a monster.” I drain the last of the brandy.

  “He grabbed me from behind and started groping me, I was shocked, totally stunned. I told him no, and again that I’m not that type of girl, I tried to push him off me, but that just made him more aggressive. I managed half a scream before he covered my mouth with his hand, I tried to fight him off again, but he was too strong. We fell to the floor, I begged him to let me go, he laughed at me, said it was all my fault that I’d led him on. I screamed at him that I hadn’t done that, but that made him more angry. He started swearing at me, calling me a whore, a dick-tease. I couldn’t see how I’d given him that impression, which made me angry so I shouted ‘go fuck yourself’ and that’s when he punched me in the face, right here, see.” I point to the tiny scar that’s across my right eyebrow.

  “He had knocked me out, so when I came round, I found myself the bed, my hands were tied to the post and he was striping my jeans of me. I tried to kick him off, but he punched me again, right in the jaw, I could taste blood swimming in my mouth. I was in so much pain, I could hardly see out my right eye and I knew, I just knew what he was going to do, it was inevitable. I thought about trying to buck him off me, but my past reminded me that doing that only makes it more painful, so I went limp and withdrew, just like I used to, and let him have his way with me. He was so rough with me, he was spitting vile, repulsive things at me the whole time, I can still feel…” I close my eyes to try and compose myself. I swallow hard and continue.