Chapter 1
Macy
I’m sitting in a dim lit room staring at a person I know nothing about, telling her things I’m too ashamed to admit to anyone else in the world. When did society begin trusting complete strangers to fix them?
Sometimes I feel like my psychiatrist is only in her line of work for the ridiculous stories and secrets people confide in her. Rarely does she give me any advice I can take and use towards bettering my life, yet I still attend our weekly sessions in hopes of being able to understand why I’ve made such rash decisions lately. I come here each time hoping she can shed some light on why I feel like I’m a stranger in my own skin. I want her to explain how I’ve gone from having a great future ahead of me to being left with nothing at all.
“I'm tired of being alone, of feeling like a failure. I sit at home and think about a life I deserved with a man who loved me and it's all gone, but the worst part is knowing I'm to blame, and that I'm okay with it. Something has to be wrong with me, right? I mean, I'm messed up? I keep having these vivid dreams about my boss I can't seem to shake. Being around him has become so difficult. He's not my type, but I feel drawn to the mystery he possesses. I know wanting him is a bad idea, but at this point it's the only thing keeping me somewhat stable. I'm focused, determined to keep those feelings hidden. It's hard work and I appreciate it occupying my time. I just don't know how complicated it will be in the long run. I can't continue to face him every day when at night all I want to do is open my door and find him standing there begging me to let him have his way with me. What the hell is wrong with me?"
“Change is a normal process, Macy. Thinking about your boss is natural. You spend a lot of time together alone. The mind is curious. Perhaps it’s just a fantasy that will pass. Are you taking the medication I prescribed?”
“Yes.” I nod my head. I’d wished to be able to control it myself, but it’s become unnerving. I don’t just desire to be physical with my boss. I have a burning hunger that nothing else can satiate. I’m fighting the cravings by seeing this doctor and cramming as much work into my life as I can possibly manage, yet it still doesn’t curve the curiosity. He’s bad for me. He’s a terrible role model. He’s a bastard – a wolf in sheep’s clothing. He’ll eat me alive if I give him the chance.
I fidget with my hands and stare at them to avoid eye contact with her. Who am I kidding? I know she’s reading my body language. “I can’t stop them, but I don’t want to jeopardize my position at the firm either. Plus my divorce is…”
“You’ve recently separated from Frank. Do you think this could be because you haven’t been physical with anyone else in a long amount of time?”
I shrug. “I suppose it’s a possibility, but I’ve known Ben for the same amount of time and never wanted anything to do with him until now.” I can’t tell her I’ve had sex with Frank since we separated. It wasn’t anything to write home about, and it certainly by no means meant we were trying to reconcile. There was nothing between us anymore, nothing but animosity.
“Do you fantasize about other men as well, or just your boss?”
I shake my head. “No. Never. That’s what makes me crazy. Its just Ben. It’s always him, even when he’s in the room. Especially when we’re together. I can’t focus. It’s like he’s pushing the thoughts into my mind somehow, and I know how insane that sounds, but this isn’t me.”
“You said he’s your boss, and he’s powerful. Perhaps you may unconsciously see his power as something to help you with your struggles regarding your failed marriage?”
I’m here to be analyzed. Her purpose is to judge me, but I hate her for it. What I’d rather her say to me is ‘Here, take this pill and be on your way. Everything will be better now.’ Except, there are no magic pills to keep my feelings under control. The pull to be close to Ben is only getting stronger by the day and it’s without certainty how much longer I’m going to be able to look into his hazel eyes that beckon me and lie myself out of a predicament I’m not sure I even want to do.
It doesn’t help that I’m getting divorced from my husband, but not because Frank and I hated one another. My decision to leave was more because I couldn’t love him enough. I can’t give him what he desperately wants in life; what I wanted too, before I discovered the painful truth. Something inside of me is broken, and because of that I’m bitter and unable to commit to a lifelong marriage of regret.
Long story short, after seven years of trying and thinking we’d have a beautiful little family we could grow old being a part of, it was just the two of us.
Frank Stone loved me from the moment we first met, which was back when we were both in college. I was studying to be a lawyer, while he was finishing up his last year of medical school. We rarely got to see each other, but when we made time it felt like I’d found my forever. Together we’d have it all. Our families couldn’t have agreed more. They knew we’d be able to offer our children a bright future with endless possibilities. It’s obvious that’s what every parent wants for their child. Unfortunately kids weren’t in the cards for me.
Just thinking about it makes me tear up, and in all honesty I’m beginning to wonder if I deserve to have children at all, or if I was going along with everyone else’s plans for me, most especially Frank.
He would have given me the stars if it were at all possible, though I was never the type of person to ask. You see, Frank was and always will be one of those nice guys who finish last. He’s handsome in a nerdy kind of way. He’s almost always in a white physician’s jacket with pens slipped into the chest pocket. He wears dark rimmed glasses, and his curly hair is always disheveled, and not exactly in the sexiest of ways. His intellect is obvious when he speaks, and there is no sense of humor coming from his dry demeanor, but there’s more to him than the awkward he holds on the outside. He’s thoughtful and compassionate. He’s romantic and understanding. But he’s not the type of man I’d always tended to go for. Despite always being aware of that, I have no idea why I thought we could make it work. I knew from the beginning we were different, but went ahead with our plans because the thought of being a disappointment to our friends and families was far too great to ignore. I’ve always lived my life in a way to suit others, probably because that’s how my parents were brought up. My mom is the superintendent of the county schools with a doctorate in education, while my father was a retired attorney who mostly dealt with business clients and taxes. He passed away a few years ago and took a big chunk of my heart with him.
My parents have always been a solid in my life. They raised me to be a good little Christian girl, who always looked to the bright side of things. They wanted to be role models, and as far as I can tell they’ve done a fantastic job at it. Out of three children, I’m the youngest. My oldest brother, Carl, lives in Korea with his wife of eighteen years. They have three children, and together run an advertising firm they started themselves. My middle brother, Michael, is an attorney in San Antonio Texas. He’s been married twice, but not because he divorced. His wife got ovarian cancer in her early twenties and lost her battle way too fast for treatment to send her into remission. My brother took about a year to recover, and that’s when he decided to move to the other side of the country to start over. He married his second wife three years later. Ann is a sweet woman. She had a child already from a previous relationship, but the father was never in the picture. Michael adopted him when he was only two, so he’s been the only dad the child has ever known. They now have a little girl together. She’s beautiful and perfect and I envy how blessed they are. Thinking about them only makes me feel like I’m defective. Messed up people have to see doctors. I’m sitting in this office today because I’m damaged in more ways than I’d like to admit. Now this w
oman wants to know if I’m self-inflicting these thoughts on myself. “I don’t regret leaving Frank, or the pending divorce. He would have forgiven me for the lies eventually, but we would have never been able to get over it.”
“Could your interest in your boss be something you’d like to explore? Perhaps you’re looking at this the wrong way. Maybe if you allowed yourself to be open to something new you’d discover a place to start? Macy, I can’t make these decisions for you, but I can try to assist you in going about your life with a clear conscience. It’s important for you to accept there are things in life you’ll never be able to change, but also the same amount of opportunities you are able to grasp.”
I take my hands and rub them across my face. The worry of my makeup smearing is the least of my concerns. Perhaps she’s right. Maybe I’m looking at this the wrong way, but if I am that means I’ll have to face what I fear the most. It’s hard to fathom. “What you’re telling me is that I won’t know until I try? You’re saying I have to be able to move forward without regret? I have to seize the day.”
“It would be a good place to start.” She peers down at her watch. “Our time is up for this week, but I’d like you to think about what you want out of this. I can’t help you if you’re not ready to be helped. Life is full of changes, and some aren’t easy to accept.”
I nod as I stand. “Yeah, I’m aware. I just feel like I’m treading on thin water. I don’t want to screw up my life any worse than I have already. I’ve disappointed so many.”
“But have you disappointed yourself? Have you made good choices? I don’t feel as if you’ve ever meant to be selfish. You’ve suffered enough, Macy. Your family will understand if you need to take a step back from what they expect and reprioritize your life.”
I stare into her dark brown eyes and say what I’ve been afraid of admitting during each of our appointments. “What if the things I want aren’t what’s best for me? What if they’ll lead me down a path I won’t be able to get back from?”
“If you feel that strongly about them being bad maybe you shouldn’t take the risk, but you also won’t know if they’re wrong until you allow yourself to take them. It’s your decision, and one you need to make when you’re ready to do so.”
A deep breath escapes me. It’s true. This doctor can’t push me in the right direction, because it’s up to me to find my correct path. She’s only here to help me accept what can’t be changed. “I get it. I’ll try to make progress this week so we have something else to talk about.”
I’m not even to my car before my phone is up to my ear and I’m making a call I know I’ll soon regret. “Hello.”
The thumping in my chest tells me I need to lean against something to keep my footing. The stress of reaching out to my ex-husband is enough to make me feel faint.
I’m not the call he wants to answer. I haven’t been for a long time. Knowing that leaves distaste in my mouth. It’s not just Frank I’ve destroyed. I’ve disappointed a lot of people I care about lately. I do worry what other people think, so much that I’ve made poor choices to protect them, which ended up destroying my relationships with the ones closest to me, most especially my husband.
Frank was and always will be my biggest mistake. My heart breaks every single time I think about hurting him. We might have agreed when things came to an end, but it wasn’t because it’s what he wanted. Once again, he’d sacrificed his own happiness for me, or for what I’d never be able to give him.
For months I’ve been beating myself up over it. We’ve even ended up in bed on several occasions, probably out of boredom. Sex with Frank was never spectacular. He’s very old fashioned. He has sex with the lights out, and he’s almost always on top. Frank doesn’t enjoy oral intimacy of any kind, even if I’m the one performing. Don’t get me started on toys or porno flicks to heighten the mood. Once he refused to speak to me for ten days when I bought a sexy outfit and a little bullet to bring to bed with me. He said it made him feel insufficient, all while I was the one who couldn’t provide when it counted. I think it came to the point where he went somewhere else to feel appreciated, because he assumed I wasn’t happy either. It was against his beliefs, but didn’t prevent it from happening.
A bible-thumping single mother raised Frank. She was practically married to Jesus Christ in her head. Not that there is anything wrong with being a Christian. I believe in God and sometimes attend church, but I don’t live my life in a glass bubble judging others as if I’m a saint. Every word out of her mouth is some kind of gospel. It’s no wonder Frank didn’t become a monk. If she had it her way he would have been. She never liked me. No woman on the planet will ever be good enough for her son, especially one with a wild side.
I guess I’ve always been a bit promiscuous. When I was younger I was called a slut for sleeping around. Most of my friends were guys, and I felt if they could do it and be popular it should be the same for me. Yeah, that’s not exactly how it works.
As my reputation stuck, I seemed to have lost my ability to keep girlfriends. Most didn’t trust me, not that I could blame them.
His voice sends me right back to the day I told him the sad truth I’d been hiding for nearly a year’s time. I think about him holding the medical paperwork he’d obtained without me knowing. I recall the way his eyes were filled with anguish, and how I’d never be able to apologize enough for my actions. That day I opened my mouth to speak but no words would come. I’d dreaded this happening, and thought I’d be prepared, but there I was speechless, staring down the barrel of an invisible Smith and Wesson. “How could you do this, Macy?” That question still burdens my memories. “How could you keep this a secret?”
“Where did you get that?” It was all I could say. I wanted to turn it around on him snooping instead of the awful truth. I ripped it out of his hands and began to tear it up. “This is not what it looks like.”
“Macy, I’m medically trained to read those results. I checked your panels with the lab. You’re barren. You’ve never been able to conceive a child, and according to the date on that test, you’ve known for quite some time, so I want to know why you led me to believe we were trying to get pregnant? Just this morning you held your legs in the air and told me you felt like this time worked. What kind of sick person does that kind of thing?”
That evening everything came out. I told him how I’d went for second opinions, and not even the best fertility specialist in Maryland could help me fix what was wrong inside of me. In fact, the last doctor I spoke to suggested I get a hysterectomy before the endometriosis started to give me more problems. He stated that since I didn’t need the nonfunctioning organs I should have them removed.
We didn’t talk about divorce that night. Instead we lived like zombies for months. Frank pretended I didn’t exist, until I finally couldn’t take it anymore.
I’m not calling him to rehash what I’ve done to him. A part of me misses his friendship. “Frank, it’s me.”
He’s short and speaks to me with no regard for my feelings. “Modern technology has come a long way. There’s a thing called caller identification. What do you need, Macy? Is everything okay? Did I forget to sign one of your papers?”
My head is shaking even though I know he’s unaware. “No. It’s not about the divorce. You told me you wanted to be friends. I was hoping we could share a meal together to get over the first hurdle of awkwardness.”
“I don’t know if that’s a good idea right now. My plate is full. I’ve got a surgery schedule that’s going to put me in an early grave and my head needs to remain focused. Having a meal with you might be too much.”
I’m disappointed, but don’t want him having a malpractice suit because I screwed him up again. He’s been through enough. “Okay. Maybe you could call me when your workload frees up some.”
“Macy, it’s too soon for me. When I told you I needed time I meant it. When we’re together things happen that become out of my control. To be honest, I don’t know when I’ll be able to look
at you and not feel anger towards our situation. We can’t continue to do this to each other. I don’t want to see you anymore.”
It hurts, but I deserve this. I deserve so much more than he’s given me. “I never meant for this to happen.”
“It did though. Look, before you find out from someone else I want you to know I’m dating someone. It’s the person I was seeing before. I don’t know if it will be anything serious, but I didn’t want to run into you and it to be a shock. I’m trying to move on with my life. Be decent for once and do the same.”
My lips tremble as I respond. “Frank, I.”
“I’m hanging up now. I’ll shoot you an email or something soon. Take care of yourself, Macy.”
The line is silent.
I manage to make it inside of my Ford Taurus before losing it where others would see. Hearing that Frank is seeing someone is devastating and I don’t know why since I’ve been fantasizing about sleeping with my boss for months. None of this seems fair. I didn’t ask to be unable to give him a child. I never wanted to break his heart, yet I feel as if I’m the one being blamed for everything.
My psychiatrist wants me to make decisions, but I’m too distraught to consider right from wrong. I need reprieve and like it or not I know exactly who to go to for it to happen.
Have you ever heard the saying, keep your friends close, but your enemies even closer? I'm here to tell you I took that craptastic advice, except instead of it preventing a target from being pointed at my back, it led me into a dark downward spiral I'm not sure I'll ever be able to free myself from.
You see, I've always been a straight and narrow kind of person. I care about others feelings, and live in a way where I avoid conflict and drama at all costs. I'll even tell a little white lie if it prevents someone I care about from being hurt or stressed. I'm the type of person who can carry hardship better than others, therefore I tend to spare my friends and family grief by shielding them from negativity. In this day and age it's important. People take work home with them, especially my ex-husband, Dr. Francis Stone. To me he's just Frank, but in the community he's so much more.
Bound (Seven Year Itch) Page 1
