Anissa's Redemption

by Zack Love

  But I stayed up thinking about how I’ve been lying to him, no less than I lie to myself in my pre-sleep ritual. And I lied to him again just as we were growing more intimate than ever and he asked about my scar. I stayed up wondering if it was obvious to him that I was lying about the cicatrix being from a car crash in Syria – especially since I had earlier told him that the collision had killed my parents. I guess he might think that those were two separate accidents, but why do I even need to play this game with him? I lie to myself every night so that I can avoid nightmares, but why did I lie to him just as he was getting closer to me than any man ever has? Because there are parts of my past that I still haven’t shared even with you, My Dearest. So how can I share them with him? Thus, maybe I should first tell you those unbearably painful moments, and then try to trust him with them too. He clearly suffers from some past traumas as well, so hopefully he’ll understand why I was untruthful to him about mine.

  All of these heavy thoughts kept me awake for nearly the entire night, and just when I felt like sheer fatigue might finally lull me into a moment of sleep, Julien violently sat up, shaken from a terrible nightmare. I tried to comfort him, and wondered what past he keeps hidden from everyone. Has he told his therapist? Or at least confided in his journal, as he would advise me to do? What dark secrets lurk deep below that elegant suit and tie, hidden from those TV interviews on financial news networks, unknown to the Columbia students feverishly taking notes at his lectures, and masked by all the trappings of his wealth and success? Who is this man, really? And how did I just give myself to him, without even knowing? I felt a mix of shame, fascination, revulsion, and confusion, as I lay awake next to him, wondering if he too was actually awake. As if that weren’t enough, I also thought about how Michael would be arriving back from Syria at around midday, and I had no idea how our interactions would unfold now.

  At 7 a.m., I finally had to leave. I wasn’t getting any rest and I just needed to be alone to try to calm my head and make sense of things. I said goodbye to Julien, who drowsily called his driver and asked him to take me back to my dorm.

  When I got home, I went for a run in the park to clear my mind. Afterwards, I took a hot shower, ate some warm oatmeal and berries, and then napped for a few hours. I needed someone to talk to, but didn’t feel comfortable telling Maria – mostly because of increasing guilt about how much worse her situation is (even though it was getting better now that she had left Raqqa). Moreover, I worried that telling her about my decision to have sex outside of marriage would somehow make me feel a bit ashamed, and even regretful, on some level.

  My therapist shared our cultural conservatism enough to understand my issues, but she wasn’t family and was ultimately a hired professional, so it felt different with her. Originally, I had hesitated to tell Monique about the idea of selling myself, but I didn’t pursue any such transaction in the end, so that was no longer a potential source of embarrassment. She might still frown on my decision to get romantically involved with my professor, but it might actually be helpful to hear her thoughts on that. So I decided to schedule a session with Monique, as soon as possible. But I wanted to talk to someone right away, besides you, My Dearest. So in the end I found Maya, who’s really my best friend when it comes to this type of stuff. She’s much more experienced about issues relating to men. We’re very open with each other, and she’s the one who encouraged me to get closer to Julien in the first place.

  I met her for lunch and she immediately intuited the latest developments when I asked her, with a reddening face, “Guess who I’m no longer calling ‘professor’ when students aren’t around?”

  Maya put down the burger she was about to bite into and her lower jaw dropped for a long moment, before turning into an almost mischievous grin. “No. You didn’t!” She looked away for a second and then glanced back at me to see if my expression had changed to indicate that I was maybe joking or something. But my blushing face remained the same and I just nodded in confirmation. “You didn’t. I can’t believe you, Anissa!” I couldn’t get myself to say more and just started giggling mischievously about the whole thing. “You naughty lil’ Syrian-virgin-no-more!” Maya teased me with a huge grin, her eyes expanding and head swaggering to the sides for added emphasis.

  We shared a laugh. “I’m still in shock about the whole thing myself,” I admitted finally.

  “Well, that was a very big step you took. Good for you, girl!” She congratulated me with a high-five. I slapped her palm triumphantly. “So how was it?”

  “It was good,” I replied timidly. I took a small bite of my sandwich, but I knew I wasn’t going to eat much – I was too focused on the conversation and the related issues.

  “Oh come on! Is my Syrian sista’ really gonna make me start fishin’ for the details now?”

  I laughed at Maya’s inimitable style. Her irresistible charm always made it hard to keep anything from her. “Well, what do you want to know?”

  “Um, not much... Other than everything!” She picked her burger back up and took a bite.

  I chuckled some more and she kept prodding and charming me until I finally gave her what she insisted on getting: a detailed account of my night with Julien, from the dinner date to the sex itself. But it felt good to share the details with a trusted friend – especially because I wanted her advice on what to do about Michael, now that I had slept with Julien. “I’m just thinking about the fact that I can now never give my virginity to Michael.”

  “Well, it’s not like he was saving his virginity for you, girlfriend! Or were you planning to pop his cherry?” Maya asked, with an exaggerated look of curiosity.

  I chuckled at her suggestion and she did have a point, in a funny way. “No, that’s not what I mean. Look, I gave my virginity to another man and, even worse, it’s someone Michael basically dislikes. Isn’t that choice something that might forever blemish our relationship – something we may never fully get past?”

  “Only if you both let it.”

  “But is it that easy? I mean, no matter how hard you try, you can’t pretend the past away or undo certain life decisions.”

  “Well, maybe you could get him to actually embrace the decision – you know, something that you did for him and the cause. But honestly, Anissa, I wouldn’t even go there unless you really want to start dating him again. And you just got started with Julien – one dude at a time, girl!”

  I laughed at her blunt style, as she took another bite of her burger. “Well, I’m supposed to meet Michael tonight – I haven’t seen him in weeks because he’s been in Syria the whole time.”

  “Well, don’t you think you’ll have other things to talk about? Or were you planning to greet him by saying, ‘Hey Michael, it’s so good to see you again after all of this time that I’ve been busy sleeping with Julien?’”

  We shared another hearty laugh, and I felt a tad better knowing that I had some kind of plan for my meeting with Michael: just avoid all talk of Julien.

  A few hours later, I met Michael for coffee. When I first saw him, waiting for me outside the entrance to Tom’s Restaurant, I ran up to him and gave him a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you here, back safe and sound. And thank you – thank you so much for everything you did to help my family! There are no words for how grateful I am – I’m forever in your debt for that,” I said, tears starting to stream down my face.

  “Look at that! I’m not even back a day and I’ve already made you cry,” Michael joked, making me laugh, as he wiped away my tears. “Come on, let’s go inside,” he said, holding the door open for me.

  We sat down in the first booth by the door, and for the first hour, he just caught me up on the situation in Syria and his activities there. Of course, I had a thousand questions for him – especially about my family, how they seemed to be doing, the process of relocating them, the situation in their new town of Kessab, etc.

  The conversation seemed to be going great until he asked me a question that completely unraveled my plan t
o avoid any talk that might reveal my conflicted heart to him.

  “I still can’t believe that donation. Do you think he actually cares about the cause now? Or is it just some gesture to impress you?”

  “Michael, you don’t know anything about Julien,” I replied. “I mean, Professor Morales,” I said, softening my tone as I realized that – to Michael – I must have sounded suspiciously defensive and protective of my professor.

  He put down his cup of coffee. “Oh, so now he’s ‘Julien’ to you?” Michael replied, with an expression of surprise and hurt disappointment.

  “That’s not the point, Michael. I’m just saying that there’s a lot more to him than you realize, and I think he really has started caring about the cause,” I explained, hoping I could somehow steer Michael away from his jealous suspicions.

  “You now know him extremely well, it seems.”

  “And why are you making me feel bad about that? I mean, my getting closer to him was your idea originally, remember?”

  “Well, I always said that I was torn about this. And I didn’t think that you’d get this close to him.”

  “I’m still figuring things out, Michael. I’m confused right now. Maybe even more confused than I realized. But you were the one who said that Antioch is bigger than any jealousies that may develop along the way between us.”

  “Yes, I did,” he said, taking out some cash to leave on the table for our coffees. “But I’m human too.” He left the money on our table and got up.

  “Michael, I’m sorry – please don’t be upset at me, I – ”

  “I’m not upset. This was my fault, really. Anyway, thanks for your help with Julien. I’ll see you around.”

  He walked out, without a backward glance, and I just sat there, feeling horrible and even more confused, until tears streamed down my cheeks again. And he hadn’t been back even one day.

  Chapter 4: Julien

  Sunday, 4/13/14 at 22:15.

  Saw my therapist today. Oddly, I somehow felt more powerful than usual around Lily – even though in some ways I needed her more than ever, with all of the new questions raised by the developments with Anissa. I spent the first half of our session telling her about the selfie scandal and how it brought me to a new low, but then renewed my perspective on things and maybe taught me some lessons about my own recklessness. I managed to avoid mentioning Anissa until I realized that I had to tell Lily about her or she wouldn’t be able to help me with any of the related issues. Now that I was thoroughly smitten with my current student, the part of me that felt weaker around Lily also wanted her to know that her power over me had diminished a little.

  After concluding that it was time to open up about my relationship with Anissa, I eased Lily into the topic: “You’ll be pleased to know that I’ve also just decided to share something that I’ve been keeping from you until now,” I began.

  Lily’s brow rose slightly, suggesting both curiosity and suspicion. “It’s always nice when you open up enough for me to do my job, Julien.”

  I released an ironic smirk. “I never said I was an easy client. But I did triple your hourly rate, so it all works out in the end, right?”

  “Is that your way of reminding me that this is all transactional?”

  “Maybe. Although I’ve been exploring some non-transactional interactions lately. And that also has some bearing on you – in more ways than one.”

  She sat there, tapping her pen against her bottom lip, as if to say “I’m still waiting for you to reveal something useful, Julien. Stop fucking with my head.”

  “Remember how I was looking to hire an attractive therapist partly to help me manage my issues with women, so that I could try to understand my desires and temptations as they unfolded?”

  “Yes,” she replied, her eyes widening in anticipation.

  “Well, that may no longer be necessary. I mean, I still find you attractive, but – as of last Saturday night – you’ve become sexually irrelevant. Which may actually make for more productive therapy sessions on some level.”

  Her eyes narrowed a bit, almost bitterly. “What happened last Saturday night, Julien?”

  “The woman I’ve been growing increasingly obsessed with came to my place, and gave me her virginity.”

  “And why would that change things so much for you?” she asked, with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity.

  “Because I no longer need another beautiful woman to distract me from her. She is the one I want, and the woman I will focus on. And there is a very special kind of non-transactional intimacy developing between us. In fact, if things continue to go well with her, I may not even need your services anymore.”

  Lily’s shoulders seemed to tense up a little. “What do you mean?”

  “I’m beginning to feel a unique and trusting intimacy with her that makes any kind of transactional closeness seem grossly inadequate – even artificial – by comparison.”

  Lily put her pen down. “But she’s not a trained professional, Julien. The fact that you may open up more with her than me says nothing about her ability to analyze whatever you’ve shared. Although it does perhaps prepare you to reveal more to a professional who can help you understand yourself better.”

  “Oh, but you have no idea how wise and intuitive she is. Her name is Anissa, by the way. And she’s as perceptive as she is whip smart.”

  “You know this from your dates with her?” Lily asked, with a hint of insecurity in her voice.

  “Among other things.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Well, she’s the top student in my Psychology and Markets class,” I replied with a mischievous grin, as Lily’s eyes popped out.

  She adjusted her posture a little and recovered her composure. “Is this the first time that you’ve had sex with one of your students?”

  “This is the first time that I’ve slept with a student who’s currently enrolled in my class. But I’ve fucked plenty of former students. Although this time is different – in so many ways.”

  “How is it so different?”

  “Because in a weird way, she feels like a kindred spirit. Like someone I could actually grow very close to – not because I’m paying her to listen to and analyze my problems, or because she’s some gold digger pretending to care about me, but because we both somehow belong together on the same journey – the same road to recovery.”

  I could have sworn there was an undertone of jealous insecurity in Lily’s reply: “Well, that’s wonderful news. It sounds like you may have found someone special for yourself.”

  “It certainly feels that way, although we’re still just getting to know each other.”

  “Well, maybe further sessions really aren’t necessary, if she’s that helpful in understanding and managing your issues.”

  As excited and hopeful as I was about Anissa, I wasn’t quite ready to terminate therapy and clearly needed to reassure Lily of that. “Well, it’s not as if all is well in paradise.”

  Lily barely suppressed a smug smirk. “Why is that?”

  “I suspect she’s been lying to me about parts of her past – probably because she doesn’t trust me enough yet.”

  “How long have you known her?”

  “About two and a half months, but we became close only recently. So, as wise and perceptive as she is for her years, and as easy as I find it to confide in her, there are still some important issues that she may not be able to help with – if only because they directly involve her.”

  “It would certainly be hard for her to give you dispassionate advice about your passion for her,” she noted with a hint of sarcasm.

  “Obviously. And there are still my childhood traumas. I mean, she was actually lying next to me when I awoke from one of my nightmares, but I’m not sure if I could get myself to tell her what’s in my nightmares, much less the events that are probably behind them.”

  “You told me what’s in your bad dreams – so why can’t you tell her at least that much?”


  “Because it might seriously disturb her – even frighten her away. Although she herself claims to have nightmares from some of the traumas she experienced during the Syrian Civil War.”

  “Oh, wow. On top of everything else, she’s also a war refugee?” Lily shook her head slightly in disbelief. She looked at the clock on the wall in her office. “Well, our time is up, Julien. But everything you’ve just told me in the last half of our session makes me wonder whether you actually learned anything at all from the selfie scandal. Your sexual behavior is as reckless as ever: you’re again risking your reputation – and potentially your position as a professor – by sleeping with your current student. Worse still, you may be emotionally endangering a very young woman who has undoubtedly suffered far too much in her short life, as a Syrian refugee. And you rationalize it all by claiming that you’re kindred spirits.” She shook her head some more and stood up, as her critique presumably continued firing away in her head.

  “Well, there’s obviously more to cover,” I replied, as I rose to my feet. On my way out, my eyes fixed on hers for a moment. “As you can see, your services are still needed,” I added with a smile and a touch of irony.

  Chapter 5: Anissa

  Wednesday, April 16, 2014

  To My Dearest,

  My meeting with Michael last Saturday left me sad and confused and I mostly kept to myself, although the next day I did get a text from Julien. “I’ve been thinking of you, Anissa. Friday was really special – hopefully for you too. I’m here if you want to talk.” I wasn’t ready to talk to him but I replied: “Thanks, Julien. It was really special for me too – of course. Just been thinking about stuff and trying to study. See you soon.”

  Adding to my emotional dizziness on Sunday, I spoke with my sister, who kept noting how amazing Michael is, and what a brave and selfless man he is for having helped as he did. Throughout our entire call, Maria seemed so much happier, and seeing her smile so much was one of the highlights of my week. “I’m just thrilled to have some semblance of our old life back,” she beamed. “I’m even playing the violin again, and I plan to see if I can volunteer at the music school here. Uncle Luke bought Antoun a football, and he started practicing again, and found some neighborhood kids to play with.”