"It's shit. I hate being there, and I know the staff hates me being there right now."
"Why? You love your job."
"I do love it, but it's just not the same. Everything and everyone irritates me now, and I'm having a hard time hiding it. I even cancelled going to a charity golf tournament the other day."
"Why?"
"I wasn't in the mood," I huff.
"Really? Well, what are you in the mood for?"
"Nothing. I don't know. Nothing, I guess. I just didn't feel like golfing, and I couldn't stop thinking about Suzanne that morning."
"Ahhhh... I see. Why Suzanne that morning in particular?"
"You know why."
"Because Suzanne thinks golf is stupid?" Mack laughs at my scowl. "Or because she associates golf with the horrific memories of the country club?"
Thinking about her eyes suddenly, I imagine telling her I’m golfing, and the sad look she’d get. “I don't know. Both I guess. It's just different now.”
"You used to love golfing," he says as I nod.
"I did."
"But now you don't like golfing because Suzanne hates golf?"
“No. Yes,” I shake my head. “No… more like because she hates it and associates it with the abuse she suffered I don't want to like golf anymore. I don't bring it up and I rarely play, and even when I do I don't tell her about it so she won't get upset.” Oh, shit. That's kind of a lie.
"You hide it from Suzanne?" Mack presses.
"Yeah," I exhale. "But I didn't lie, I just didn't tell her." When Mack raises an eyebrow I quickly amend my statement. "Okay, I guess it's the same thing. But I only did it a few times and I felt so guilty not telling her about it, I didn't really enjoy playing until I just stopped. So, I don't play at all anymore."
"Do you hide anything else from Suzanne?" Mack asks leaning across his desk closer to me.
"No." I answer way to angrily tipping Mack off immediately. He knows when I'm lying, and I couldn't have made that more obvious if I actually tried. Fuck me… here we go.
"What else do you hide from Suzanne?"
"Nothing."
"Z, talk to me. For this to work, you have to talk to me and trust me. Both you and Suzanne agreed I could share the basics- how you're doing, what you’re doing, etc. But not our actual conversations or revelations. So I won't repeat anything said within these walls."
"There's nothing, Mack. Golf was the only thing I hid from Suzanne."
"And also your quick monthly day trips to Chicago to visit Thomas," Mack says barely above a whisper, but the result was the same as if he'd yelled it in my face. My balls just lodged in my throat with my breath.
"You know?"
"Yes."
"Who else knows?"
"All of us actually."
"How?" I croak. I always covered my ass with a meeting that 'couldn't be interrupted', or with a quick trip to the vineyards upstate. I always had a perfect excuse for Suzanne not being able to reach me during the flight.
"Thomas's grave flowers from his daddy. And Kayla Lefferts actually saw you once."
"What? When? Why was she there?" What the fuck?
"Well, she visits Thomas once in a while."
"Why?" What the actual fuck? "Why would she?" I ask sounding sad and confused. I can actually hear my own voice and it doesn’t sound like my real voice at all.
"From what she told me Kayla felt somewhat responsible for visiting him because she was the only one left in Chicago with him," Mack says softly but it doesn't matter. My heart is breaking even as I sit here staring at Mack like what he said is the most shocking thing ever, which it kind of is. Kayla doesn't want or even like children she's told everyone often.
"She visited my son?" I whisper choke the tears back as best as I can.
"Yes. I don't know how often, and the only reason I know is because she called me to tell me she saw you at his gravesite in the rain looking very sad. She called to let me know you were sitting on the grass against his tombstone without an umbrella getting soaked, and she thought you maybe needed to talk to someone about how you were feeling. And basically she knew not to tell Suzanne, so she told me instead, in case you needed to talk about it. But you never did."
"Why didn't you say anything?" I ask again barely above a whisper.
"Because it's not my place to say anything. I may be your best friend, and now your therapist, but if you didn't want to discuss visiting your son with me, it's not my place to bring it up. That's between you and Thomas, and indirectly Suzanne as well."
"She knows?" I gasp shocked. "She never said anything about it, or even hinted she knew."
"Yes, she knows. And she didn't say anything because you didn't. She was respecting your privacy as well."
"Did Kayla tell her?"
"No. I did actually."
"Why? You just said it wasn't your place to talk about it."
"She thought you were cheating on her." What? There goes my air again. Christ! My head is spinning. "And though I may have overstepped, it was as your friend not as a therapist at the time."
"Why did she think that? When she couldn't reach me?"
"That and the fact that it was usually the same day every month, which naturally meant you were having a torrid love affair on a set date," Mack smirks at a typical Suzanne expression.
"Was she mad?"
"Not at all. She was sad for you. She actually cried her eyes out thinking of how hard it was for you being away from your son. She wanted to figure out a way to bring you two back together. She even discussed maybe moving back to Chicago, or somehow bringing Thomas here for you."
"She cried?"
"Z, she's not a monster. She-"
"I KNOW that," I snap. "That wasn't what I meant."
"She cried for your heartache, and for Thomas."
"Because she feels something for him?" I ask already knowing the answer I'm going to get. I don't even need to see Mack's face to know what he's going to say.
"No. Not as her own loss, but as yours, certainly. It absolutely breaks her heart that you suffered- suffer over Thomas."
"But she still feels nothing for our son?"
"Not like you do, no."
Before I can stop myself, the ever present word bursts from my mouth, "Why?"
"Because she can't feel him, Z. Not like you do, or always will."
"I know that, but why didn't she love him?"
Exhaling, Mack seems to have been waiting to have this talk with me because we never have before. We've skated around the issue, and talked briefly about Thomas and Suzanne, but we've never really talked about Thomas and the pregnancy, and Suzanne’s lack of feelings toward it all. But I think I need to know now.
“I think I'm finally ready to hear the answer, Mack. I need to know why she feels the way she does, or rather doesn’t feel love for Thomas,” I croak again from my upset and nervous tension waiting for the explanation I don't really want to hear but finally should.
“From a physiological standpoint there are many reasons- some easy, and some very complex. But I know that isn't what you want to hear. So I'll tell you the long and the short of it in very basic terms if you really want to understand.”
“I do,” I nod because I really do want to understand Suzanne’s reaction to Thomas, even knowing this will probably be very painful for me.
“Well, essentially Suzanne felt raped by you when you forced her to carry a baby she didn't want."
"What?" I almost throw up from the term rape and Suzanne in the same sentence regarding me.
“Z, she wasn't ready to have a child, I think we can all agree on that.” When I nod he continues. “And emotionally she had just woken from a horrific accident scarred physically and psychologically damaged. She was confused after the memory loss and gain, and then she suddenly found herself not only expecting a child, but expected to want to carry the child."
"But why would she feel raped?" I barely say the word out loud.
"Well, something was done to her body-"
"With consent!" I yell at Mack because he has to know I would never hurt her like that.
"Yes, the sex was consensual, Z, but the pregnancy wasn't."
"But it was an accident."
"For you. For her it was a violation against her body that she didn't choose again. Someone, you, got her pregnant against her will, and then you forced her to carry the baby she didn't want. Basically, in her mind you forced something on her body like they did, and you made her keep it when she wanted to make it go away."
"But…" Barely breathing, I don’t even know how to defend myself.
"You wanted the answer, Z. And that's the answer. Add in the fact that she has next to no self-worth, she thinks she's a horrible person, and therefore was going to be an even worse mother to a baby she didn't even want but was forced to have, and you have a recipe for an emotional disaster."
"But what could I do? Let her kill my son?"
"Of course not. You were in a no win situation. Either allow an abortion and spend your life hating her, or force her to carry your baby and potentially cause her to hate you forever. Z, that was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to witness in my life. So please, don't ever think there is a judgment being made against you for any of it. Suzanne doesn't even resent you for that now. When she's strong, she knows exactly how hard a decision that was for you, and how awful she made your life then. She still can't forgive herself for anything that happened between you, Thomas, and even herself."
"What can't she forgive?"
"Killing him," Mack says simply as the air explodes from my chest.
Gasping, I feel like I did the night she decided to die. Struggling for breath, my hands start shaking immediately as I look at Mack a little panicked.
"Z, breathe slowly."
"Fuck off! How could you say that? She didn't kill him!" I yell trying to breathe through the anger and upset raging through my body. "She didn't kill him."
"She thinks she did."
"She didn't. Everyone knows that."
"Except Suzanne," Mack says gently, and I see everything a little clearer suddenly.
"All the tests said it was just one of those rare things that happens to like one in ninety thousand or something. It wasn't anything she did."
"I agree. Suzanne doesn't agree with us though. Because of her shit life, and her shit thinking patterns she believes she somehow killed him. She didn't want him, and she hated having to carry him and then he died. Therefore to her she killed your baby. Did you know she paid an exorbitant amount of money to have every single genetics test available?"
"Um, no."
"Well, she did. She almost passed out from all the fingertip blood samples she had to take and send away, but she did it. In her mind she can't believe you still actually want to be with her when she's a murderer, and because you being with her makes no sense to her whatsoever she wanted to find the reason she killed Thomas. She was actually looking for one single reason, or a genetic marker, or just something so she could tell you how she killed him," Mack exhales shaking his head, even as I shake my own head to clear it.
"Why does she want me to think she's a murderer?"
"So you won't love her anymore."
Oh. Holy fuck! That wasn't what I expected to hear. And actually it pisses me off as usual.
"Let me guess. Because me loving her doesn't make sense to anyone, least of all Suzanne?"
"You got it," Mack agrees without sounding happy about it in the least.
After another long silence while I think of all the ways I've told her I love her, I realize once again she'll never believe me or understand my feelings toward her.
"But she still doesn't actually love him."
“I don’t think so. Not like you do. She loves him as your son. A son you love, which makes her love him for you, but not for herself,” Mack finishes looking so pained for her I don’t know what to say to him.
Mumbling, I barely hear my own voice so I don't think Mack hears what I'm saying. "I don't think... Can she ever love?"
Wow. That was way too heavy a question, and yet one I'm struggling with every day that we're apart.
Looking at Mack who seems to be waiting for eye contact, he nods and says sadly, "Yes, she can love. She loves you."
"But it's not enough," I whisper again knowing it’s the truth between us.
Leaning forward again, Mack asks, "Not enough for who?"
"Both of us, I think. I love her but she doesn't believe me. And she says she loves me, but I don't believe she actually can love. Oh, fuck..." I groan as reality smacks me in the face again. "I don't think we're going to work, Mack," I admit as I feel everything turn dark inside me again.
"Z, just take a deep breath and reel it in a little. It's too soon to be over, and it's not soon enough to have all the answers. Okay?"
"Uh huh," I nod completely numb. "I have to go, Mack. I'm fucked right now," I plead already standing for the door.
"Z! I want you to think of all the ways you lie to Suzanne, for good reasons and for bad. I want you to really think about what you do to make everything okay for her, even if it’s not okay for you. Can you do that for me? Will you do that?"
"Sure." Walking out the door I don’t even notice the ugly waiting room with my retreat.
Christ! All the ways I lie to her to make things better clearly didn't work. She's still fucked in the head, and now she's made me fucked too.
Nothing I did worked. I wasn't enough, and Suzanne needs more than I can give. And though there’s nothing left for me to give her it still wasn't enough.
Shaking, I walk the miles to my truck in a trance and leave Mercy for the sudden comfort I hope to find in my awful hotel suite.
CHAPTER 17
Suzanne & z
Almost skipping I keep laughing at what a loser I am. Honestly. But I don't even care. I made it and I love it, and I can’t wait to give it to Kayla for Christmas.
Knocking on Mack's door, I wait not so patiently for him until he calls out, 'who is it?'
"It's me! And I'm coming in!" I laugh throwing the door open grinning.
When I see Mack stand from behind his desk I hide my Kayla gift until smiling I look and see Z standing to the side of Mack's desk as well.
Oh Shit.
Gasping my shock, I can do nothing but look down. I haven't seen Z in 7 weeks and I feel everything for him instantly, and nothing at all.
I don't know what to do. And I don't know what to feel. And I don't know-
"Hi, Suzanne," he says in his dark chocolate voice as I melt in place. I almost forgot his voice though I didn't at all because I hear his voice in my dreams all the time.
"Hi. Sorry. I'll, um, go."
"Suzanne, Z was just leaving, and you're an hour early," Mack says more like only a statement than an angry accusation.
"Sorry." Spinning on the spot, I attempt to rip the door open until Z's hand lands on my cast freezing me in place.
"Stay, love." Love? "I was just leaving," he says quietly stepping closer to my side to get to the door.
"I'm sorry," I whisper and I don't know what I mean anymore.
Shit. Mack would ask 'what are you sorry for?' And I'd have to tell him the reason I think I'm sorry. But this time, like this, I have so many sorry’s inside me I can't tell what any of them are specifically.
"Why are you here, Suzanne?" Mack again asks gently and I want to scream. My chest is killing me and my mind is blank, and I can actually smell Z. But for real this time. "Suzanne?"
"Ah, I made your Kayla a gift," I whisper suddenly embarrassed.
Scrunching up the folded scarf in my hands, I don't want to show him anymore. I don't want Z to know I'm officially the crazy knitting lady, and I don't want him to see me excited about being the crazy knitting lady.
"What did you make?" Z asks quietly beside me and all I can do is shake my head. "Ah, come on... Tell me what it is," he asks with his smile-voice and I almost weep from the sound of it.
; Still looking towards the door, I don't make eye contact but I at least raise my head a little. "I made Kayla a scarf," I admit totally humiliated.
"Did you? Can I see it?" Z asks like he's afraid I won't show him. He sounds nervous, or like I could actually deny him anything. But I don't want to deny him anything as simple as this, considering all the life I have already denied him by being with him.
Turning toward Z, I don't look at his face, but I hold up the stupid purple and black scarf for Kayla as he takes it from me gently and unfolds it to inspect my work.
"Is this your first attempt?"
"Um, no. I made you one first, but it wasn't quite as good, and it had a few holes in it, and it was really misshapen," I again admit looking at the wall behind him because I feel like an idiot suddenly.
"You knit me a scarf?"
"Yes. But it wasn't as good as this one," I mumble blushing.
"Well, thank you."
Looking up because of his sweet voice, I notice the scarf hanging in front of him and finally see what I made. Like totally see it without the giddy blinders I was clearly wearing when I made it.
Oh, crap. There are tons of holes in it, and it looks skinnier on one side and the color change doesn't blend right near the top against the edge like it should. It looks kind of like a stupid joke gift actually.
Looking up at Z quickly, his eyes are so shiny I can tell he's trying not to laugh, desperately holding it in, and that look of Z's pretty much does me in.
Bursting out laughing, I grab the scarf from him and hold it up to see right through the holes to Mack, for Christ's sake.
"Shit!" I howl with laughter as Z finally barks a quick laugh. "I thought it was so good this time. Way better than yours."
"It doesn't look that bad," Z tries. But he's full of shit, and we both know it.
"God dammit. I'm not even a good crazy knitting lady," I giggle again.
Okay, this sucks. I need to get out of here, and I need to burn this pathetic attempt at a scarf. Oh, crap! I'm not allowed any flammables I suddenly remember which sets me off laughing again.
"I'm going to go. Sorry I interrupted you. Please don't tell Kayla about the scarf I'll never give her, okay?" I ask grinning at a remarkably quiet Mack.
We are US... (I am HER... Book 3) Page 21
