"Can I have my scarf?" Z asks barely above a whisper but I shake my head immediately.
"Not a chance. If I thought this one was great, I'm sure you can imagine what yours actually looks like," I laugh again.
"I don't care, Suzanne. I'd love it, because it’s from you," Z says so seriously suddenly the air in the room changes from my embarrassed stupid, to sad and desperate in a millisecond.
"I can't. It's shitty, and I want you to have a perfect one."
"I don't care about perfect, Suzanne. I never have," he whispers as I nod.
"I know. And that's the problem," I admit to our collective silence. "I have to go," I almost plead as I walk out just shy of a run with my stupid holey scarf and my sad desperation on the surface of my face.
"I'll see you in an hour, Suzanne," Mack calls out behind me but I can't acknowledge him. I need to get the hell away from Z.
It would be so easy to just beg Z to love me anyway. Even though I'm not perfect and he doesn't care about perfect, but I can’t. I won't do it to him anymore. I'll never again beg him for anything, because Z can't say no to me even though he should, and deep down probably wishes he could. I'm not going to ask, so he doesn’t feel obligated to give in to me and the life he shouldn't live with me.
Pausing in the hallway a few corridors from my room, I breathe out my disappointed want and upset. I want him so badly, but I'll never again ask him to love me. I'll never again beg him for more. And I'll never again hope for more.
I am however going to start the proceedings for a divorce.
➰➰➰➰➰
"She looks terrible, Mack," I admit painfully. "How much weight has she lost?"
"I don't know. Not that much, Z. Not enough to harm her."
Falling into the chair with a huff, I beg, "Are you sure? Her face looked so gaunt and pale, and just too skinny."
I think I was almost more shocked by Suzanne's appearance than by the fact that I was actually seeing her for the first time in forever. Okay, not true. I couldn't believe I was actually seeing her, and after the initial shock we seemed almost normal together, or like there hadn't been nearly 7 weeks missing between us.
"Yes, I'm sure," Mack says again breaking me away from my thoughts. "Her physical health is fine, Z. And she actually feels better about herself now that she's lost a little weight," Mack says like a fucking idiot.
"Well, she shouldn't feel good about it."
"Why's that?" Mack asks too calmly for the anger I'm suddenly feeling.
"Because she isn't meant to be that skinny."
"Why's that?"
"Because it just not her. She's supposed to be curvy and soft."
"According to whom?"
"Me!" I yell then stop the second I realize what a dick I sound like. "Shit..."
I didn't realize I felt that way. I always thought I was too good for those kind of thoughts about women. I thought I loved them all shapes and sizes, but I suddenly realize I definitely have a preference. Suzanne.
I like big breasts to fondle, and a nice ass to squeeze, and I even like curvy hips to hold. I like a woman shaped like a woman should be... according to me apparently.
"Ah, next session?" I bark another quick laugh.
"Yup," Mack says with humor. "There's that arrogant dickhead I mentioned."
"Too often," I grin and shake my own head before asking, "Is it really so bad to like my wife curvy?"
"Not at all. You like what you like in a woman's appearance. It's only a problem when you tell her to look a certain way, or expect her to stay a certain way because you like it."
Nodding, I understand. "I would never tell Suzanne what to do with her own body."
"That's good, because she has severe body issues, Z. And if she thought you didn’t like something about her body she'd spiral downward again, just from the rejection or thoughts of rejection from you alone."
"I could never reject her," I whisper sadly. "I miss her," I huff before shaking my head again.
I always sound like a fucking pussy now with Mack. I can hide it at work, and even around Marty, but there's something about Mack that just makes me spew up all the pussy inside me.
"And I sound like a pussy all the time."
"And an arrogant dickhead," Mack adds again for the hundredth time as I nod my head. "Z, you don't sound like a pussy. You sound like a man who loves a woman, is confused by a woman and doesn't know how to understand the woman. You're just a man, Z. And you need to start realizing that."
"I know I'm a man, Mack," I snap irritated.
Laughing, Mack shakes his head at me again. "Not like that, Z. We both know you're a man, you idiot. What I mean is, you're a man in a marriage who is struggling, who for the first time in his life is lost."
"I'm not lost."
"Yes, you are. You're not Suzanne's caregiver anymore, and before her you were always someone's caregiver. That's what you do, or did. You were always Z, with either the answers, the money, or the strength, physical and emotional to help people to always get by. But now?"
"Now, I can't help," I exhale again. Christ, Mack's annoyingly bang on.
"Yes. So you feel lost."
Grinning as I stand to walk to the door again, I admit, "I'm not so good with lost, Mack," even as he nods sympathetically. "I'll see you on Thursday."
Opening the door, I half expect to see Suzanne crying in the hallway, or waiting behind a corner to get a glimpse of me again. She usually would be, and I know she did that at our condo frequently. If she hadn't seen me in a while or I was away all day, even after I returned home I would notice Suzanne watching me from corners, or just watching me in general.
But I never understood if it was because she liked looking at me, needed the comfort of seeing me knowing I was home to protect her, or if it was straight up insecurity on her part making sure I was still there and hadn't left her. I always wanted to ask why she would watch me quietly from a corner while I sat there aware of her presence but not acknowledging it because she clearly didn't want me to know. But I never did ask.
Thinking about all those secret watching’s I'll admit I used to just hope it was because she loved me and simply wanted to look at me without me knowing. Not for all the other negative insecure reasons she probably was.
Looking around the last corridor before the elevators to the security check and my freedom, I feel the very absence of Suzanne and I'm instantly aware of missing her eyes on me, until it's another goddamn pain sitting on my chest.
➰➰➰➰➰
Walking into Mack's office just under an hour later, I'm awesome. I haven't cried, and I haven't freaked out. Yes, finally seeing Z was a shock, but I handled myself well and I left before he could see me weak.
"Hi, Suzanne," Mack smiles as he motions to the chair in front of his desk.
"Hi... Um, I don't want to sit, okay?" I ask and Mack immediately nods as he sits down at his desk. I know why he sat anyway, and I appreciate it. I still hate being over-heighted, except with Z.
"What's going on?" He raises an eyebrow waiting for me to speak.
Exhaling on a huff, I lean beside his opened door to keep my drama in check. I don't want to be dramatic Suzanne, and I would die if people actually heard my conversations. So talking with the door open feels like the perfect way to keep myself calm.
"Um, 2 things."
"Hit me," he grins.
"I want to get out of here tomorrow because I'm ready. I know it and I feel it. So I'm going home tomorrow," I say as a statement instead of a question he can argue with.
"And the second?"
"I want a divorce from Z. And I, ah, want you to be there when I tell him," I whisper on another long exhale.
See? I'm strong enough to leave. I just said something I never thought I would, and I didn't freak out or cry, or anything. I'm much better and I think Mack finally knows it.
"A divorce?" Mack asks calmly.
"Yes. It's time I think."
Remaining remarkably calm as he u
sually does, Mack barely shows any emotion when he pauses before speaking. "Why do you want to get a divorce? Why now?"
"You know why," I mumble.
"Actually, I don't. So why don't you explain to me why you want a divorce."
I'm not going to get in shit, I know. And I probably should explain this so Mack understands, but this is hard to talk to Mack about. "First, will you agree that I'm ready to leave?"
"Yes... Though if you're getting a divorce where will you go?"
"I hope our home for now. But maybe we can sell it quickly so Z and I can move on."
"Move on?"
Huffing, I see Mack is going to play the word game with me, and I'm really not in the mood. "Look, do you agree I'm ready to be released or not?"
"I already said yes," he answers still calm though there's a bit of an edge to him.
"Good. Because I'm ready to leave. I'm strong enough and I'm making a decision for myself here without freaking out or losing it. I want to leave and I want a divorce."
Nodding, Mack says, "I understand what you said. I'm just trying to understand what it means."
"What what means? A divorce? Well, it's the ending of a marriage, Mack," I reply sarcastically.
"I'm well aware, Suzanne. There's no need to be a smartass," Mack says with the first sign of disapproval I think. "What I would like to know is why you want a divorce and what you hope a divorce will accomplish."
Exhaling again, pressed against the wall, I cross my arms to hold myself together. "I don't want to be married to Z anymore. And I'd like to move on. Out of here, and out of my marriage."
"Understood. But why?" Mack pushes again.
"Because I'm not happy, okay?"
"With Z? Did he do anything to make you unhappy, Suzanne?"
"Nope. He's perfect," I growl.
Smirking, Mack asks, "Is he?"
"Yup."
"Yup?" Mack repeats annoying me further.
"Okay. I'm done. You don't have to listen to me or even agree, that's up to you. But I've made my decision. And whether you support me or not, my decision isn't going to change."
"I understand," he nods gravely.
"So my only questions are will you sign off on my release, and will you be there when I tell Z I want a divorce?"
"Yes. You've finally asked and admitted you were well enough to handle getting out of here, so I will absolutely set up your release paperwork."
"Thank you," I exhale. But before I can turn to leave, Mack continues like I knew he would.
"Z is going to be here Thursday afternoon for a session. So I'd like to tell him about the divorce then. Does that work for you? You can tell him here with me present. My only request is you wait for your release until after your meeting."
"But-"
"That's only one extra day, Suzanne. Tomorrow is Wednesday. That also gives me time to ask Z if he’ll agree to a joint session with you."
"What about tomorrow?" I beg. Shit, I don't want to prolong this.
"On such short notice? Z may have plans."
"More important than me?" I ask surprised. Z would typically drop whatever he was doing for me. Wow, I kinda sound like a spoiled brat.
"Suzanne, Z will be out of town tomorrow," Mack says in a way that suggests I'm being an idiot.
"Why?" Where's he going? He never goes out of town, unless for "Thomas..." I exhale the quick pain with my breath.
"Yes."
"Okay. No problem. If he's available, I'll see him in your office Thursday," I again turn to leave before I do actually feel emotional.
"Our session isn't over. And we still have one tomorrow, Suzanne."
"Actually, this session is over. But I'll see you tomorrow. Bye, Mack," I say quickly walking right out the door before he can speak again.
I know what I want and I know what I need. I also know if I spend any more time with Mack he'll try to either talk me out of it entirely, or try to make me think about this decision more. He'll think it's in my best interest, and he'll act like he cares about my decision, which I’m sure he actually does. I just don't know if he can separate his lifelong friendship with Z this time to ever agree with me or support me in my decision.
Walking quickly away, I'm not giving Mack the opportunity to change my mind this time where Z is concerned.
CHAPTER 18
SUZANNE
Walking down the corridor to Mack's office, I feel good. I dressed nicely, as opposed to my yoga pants, and I washed and dried my hair, even putting it up in a messy kind of sexy updo. My makeup is good, all the scars are covered with my makeup and hair, and I'm barely shaking.
Blowing off Mack yesterday was hard though. He didn't like it, but when I explained I would explain everything today, he really had no argument to force a session. Plus, he did sign off on my release for later tonight, so there wasn't much he could do. I know he was both hurt and disappointed in me for canceling our session, but I also didn't care.
I'm making my own decisions, and I'm starting again. Again.
I've had enough of me, and I want to make some serious changes. Living a half-life either faking happiness or waiting for the unhappiness to return isn't what I want anymore. I don't want to wait for more bad, and I'd really like to move on past the bad I've already suffered, because I think it's finally time for me now.
I also think no one will support me this time with my decision. And really, why would they? Mack is on Z's side, whether through their friendship, or just because he thinks I'm wrong. Kayla will side with her husband, and Chicago Kayla, though a bit of a wildcard will probably choose Z because he’s helped her move and settle into New York during my absence, Mack told me. Plus, I swear she secretly has a thing for him, and really, why wouldn't she? Z is Z.
Knocking on Mack's door, I don't even need to breathe. I'm as ready as I'll ever be, and I know no matter how badly today goes, I've been through worse, which somehow I handled, albeit usually poorly. But hey, I'm still alive, reasonably well, and, well, that's about it. But it's still something.
When the door opens to Mack, I'm a little surprised he met me at the door instead of calling me in. Then again I pissed him off yesterday by canceling our session so maybe he’s going to be more formal with me than usual.
“Hello, Suzanne. Z’s running 10 minutes late,” he smiles. “Would you like to wait with me inside or wait in the hall until we begin?” When he asks almost as though we’re strangers I feel really shitty suddenly. It’s amazing how quickly that rejection can settle into my chest.
"Oh, the hallway will be fine," I nod already trying to get away from Mack's irritation with me.
Shaking a little for the first time in 2 days, I plaster my best smile on my face and walk the few feet back to the waiting room of people.
Looking at my hands, I notice of course the one dark scar from the accident, and the pale pink nails I painted last night in my boredom after my cast was finally removed a week ago. I also notice my index and thumb polish is totally messed up because I couldn't wait to start knitting before the polish was dry.
I was damned and determined last night to make the best goddamn scarf possible, and I will. It's like my new obsession- making a hole-less scarf for someone. I know who I keep thinking it’s for, but I'm not going there anymore.
"Suzanne?" Z breathes and my physical reaction is immediate. Oh god. Seeing and hearing Z is always the same for me. Soul-consuming, numbing, and just light. Z is a light for me, almost like a nightlight I turn on way too frequently to keep me company in the dark.
"You're a night light," I whisper before catching myself again.
"To keep you company in your darkness," Z whispers back like he already knows. Somehow I can almost hear myself telling him that before in one of my sad but happy with Z moods.
"Why are you out here?" He asks squatting down in front of me. Looking at me, I could almost kiss him, or cry, or like beg him to hug me. But I can't now, and I won't ever again. But it's just so hard to stop myself when he's lik
e this with me, so loving and soft and caring, and just beautiful to me always.
"I was waiting for you," I whisper with agony clearly heard in my voice.
"I'm sorry I'm late. The traffic was brutal and the parking lot-"
“Is always full,” I smile sadly. “I remember from my Phillips visits.” Wow. Maybe we can casually talk about the weather next?
Smiling, almost like he knew the sarcasm I was thinking, Z stands back up, stretches his hand out to me and asks, "Shall we?" But once again I'm stuck.
If I take his hand, I'll lean into his arm and smell his cologne. I’ll probably even rub up against his warmth and fall right back into the Z trap. The one I love like an addiction, but know I must kick like a habit.
I can't fall back into Z because it’s just too hard to climb out of his love and affection.
Waiting out my pause, Z slowly lowers his hand and smiles before walking toward Mack's door. I think he understands how hard touching would be for me, at least I hope he did so his feelings weren't hurt.
Jumping up quickly, I just reach the door when Z walks in and takes what I consider my chair in front of Mack. Well, this is awkward. Is it weird to ask Z to move so I can have the chair to the side so my face has more coverage? Probably.
Almost laughing, I don't know where to sit. Shit. Apparently, I can add OCD to my lengthy list of issues as well.
"What's wrong?" Z asks while I stand to the side trying to figure out how I do this in the wrong chair.
"Nothing." Walking a foot, I slump down into the wrong chair and feel nothing short of irritation and discomfort. I'm totally uncomfortable in this chair because Z is staring right at my scars. Ah, how do I talk to him if I’m staring at the opposite wall because I can't look in his direction?
"I think I understand," Z suddenly says rising. "Here, love. Take this seat," he smiles gesturing with his hand.
"Thank you," I whisper diving for the right chair. He knew! He always knows. If ever there was a man perfect for me, I'm pretty sure Z is it. "And I'll never find this again with anyone."
We are US... (I am HER... Book 3) Page 22
