by Janice Sims
He had to fight back tears. “Oh, God, baby, I’m so sorry. You know I would never put my hands on you in my right mind.”
They held hands across the tiny round table in the coffee shop. She smiled through her tears. “I know you wouldn’t. Maybe I should have said something last night. But I was afraid it would be a setback for you. I didn’t want you to heap on more self-recriminations. You already blame yourself for things you had no control over. It was a nightmare, which is a manifestation of your daytime worries. We’re going to be fine.”
Adam was busy berating himself. His foremost thought was, If I’d been man enough to confess my fears to her, to admit my weaknesses, this would never have happened.
He brought her hand to his mouth and kissed the palm. “This crazy code of silence between us ends here. We talk about everything from now on. I promised myself I would never hurt you, and I’ve hurt you. I’m making an appointment with a therapist as soon as possible.”
Chapter 7
True to his word, Adam began having sessions with Dr. Jared Klein. In the beginning, Dr. Klein suggested they meet twice a week for an hour in his office. Adam was taken aback during the first session when Dr. Klein asked him why he’d chosen him as his therapist.
Adam was sitting across from the therapist in his fashionable Manhattan office, which was decorated in soothing, muted colors, the air cool and not stuffy as some offices were in winter. Adam shrugged, knowing that his mind wasn’t focusing because of panic. Instead of concentrating on the doctor and what he was saying, he was thinking about the room.
Dr. Klein, who was a tall, lanky man in his late thirties with thick and curly dark brown hair and a beard, must have thought Adam appeared confused because he smiled at him and said, “I apologize, Adam. I always ask that question just to break the ice. And to determine if you, like a lot of my male patients, chose me solely because I’m male and you think talking to a male might be easier for you. Which would be perfectly fine. I just want to find out where you’re coming from.”
Adam laughed nervously. “Look, Dr. Klein, I’m here because I’ve been having nightmares since coming back home after I was held captive for two years in the Middle East. I can’t discuss any of that, by the way. I’m here for personal reasons. I thought I could handle my problems by myself, but after hitting my wife in my sleep a few nights ago, I realize I need help. Can you help me?”
Dr. Klein leaned toward him, a look of concern on his face. “I’ll do my best. Without giving me any details about your ordeal, tell me the extent of the abuses you suffered. I do need to know that in order to figure out how to aid your recovery.”
For the next half hour or so, Adam recounted his experience for the psychiatrist, speaking of his kidnapping, how he and his colleagues had been treated at the facility and his isolation, which he thought had been the most difficult part.
“And what are the nightmares about?” Dr. Klein asked when he was finished. The doctor waited patiently while Adam gathered his thoughts. His nightmares were numerous and varied. “Sometimes I’m in pitch-black darkness. It feels like it’s hard to breathe and I can sense someone’s in the room with me, but they’re silent. In one dream I could feel the exhalation of someone’s breath on my neck. I woke up then in a cold sweat.
“In other dreams I’m fighting off my attackers. But I never win. I’m always held down, my hands tied behind my back, my head covered with a black hood. The common theme is helplessness.”
“Helpless,” Dr. Klein commented. “Like you felt when you were kidnapped.”
Adam nodded.
Dr. Klein leaned back in his chair, watching Adam intently. “I like to learn as much about my patients before my first appointment with them, Adam. The more I know, the more I can get a feel for how you might think, based on my years of education and experience treating patients. To be honest with you, I’d already heard of you and your wife. You’re both pretty well-known in the city.”
Adam had been expecting this. It was one of the reasons he had not wanted to seek out a therapist. Could a therapist be completely discreet and nonjudgmental of someone they had heard about, maybe had even admired? He wasn’t referring to himself. Alia Joie was known for her charitable work in the city. They’d met at a charity event. Her family contributed to several charities, and there was a lot of publicity surrounding those endeavors. He was a minor celebrity compared to her.
So he was surprised when Dr. Klein said, “I’ve read all your books. You’re a brilliant man. You make physics accessible to the masses. I loved it when you admitted that you’d taken up ice-skating because your physics idol, Michio Kaku, loves ice-skating.” He paused, a smile causing crinkles to appear around his eyes. “I’m telling you all this to be completely transparent. Many celebrities have therapists and trust the fact that we are sworn not to disclose anything we discuss. I wanted you to make up your mind about whether or not you want to go forward from here. When a patient has gone through what you have, I know it’s hard to trust anyone for a while. But if we’re going to make progress, we must let down our guards and trust one another. Can you do that, Adam?”
Adam shifted uncomfortably in his chair. He was grateful for the doctor’s honesty, but a bit uncertain about what his next move should be. He was here because he wanted to be able to make love to his wife again. And he wasn’t sure why he feared trying to. If this professional had answers, then he needed to hear them.
“Well, I can’t stay in the state I’m in,” he told Dr. Klein. “So I’m going to trust you.”
He thought the doctor looked relieved at that statement. Dr. Klein sat back in his leather office chair and regarded Adam with an inquisitive expression. “Good. Then tell me what it is that you think is at the center of your feeling helpless. Don’t answer right away. I know you’re an accomplished person, and feeling helpless isn’t something you’ve experienced before now. Am I right?”
Adam wanted to exclaim, Damn right! But held his dry humor in check. This was serious business. “No, I can’t ever recall feeling helpless about anything. Even when I was a poor kid growing up, I never felt as if I had no control. I was aware that my future depended on my behavior. By behaving a certain way, I created positive outcomes.”
Dr. Klein chuckled. “You were behaving like a scientist even back then.”
Adam smiled. “Yes, I suppose so. But now I’m crippled by my own thoughts, Doctor. Physically, I’m fine. I was a little malnourished when I got back to the States, but since then my body has healed. But I still can’t make love to my wife. My body wants to, but my mind isn’t cooperating.”
“Your wife is a very beautiful woman,” Dr. Klein said matter-of-factly. Adam was a little irked by his observation. Of course Alia Joie was beautiful. What did that have to do with anything?
“The problem is not with Alia Joie,” he said, looking Dr. Klein in the eyes. “She’s practically perfect. I’m not saying that to give you the idea that she’s so perfect I no longer feel I’m worthy of her or anything like that.”
“She comes from a very rich family,” Dr. Klein put in. “You’ve never felt, like some men, that a woman shouldn’t earn more money than her husband?”
“No, why should I feel that way? We both knew what we were getting into when we got married. I knew I would never earn billions. I don’t even covet such riches. Alia Joie and I love and respect each other for who we are. I want her to reach for the stars. And she supports me in every way possible.”
Dr. Klein smiled. “Go on, you’re doing very well. You don’t feel emasculated by her level of wealth, then?”
“Emasculated? Believe me, Doctor, I had no trouble making love to my wife before my experience in the Middle East. None whatsoever!” Adam almost shouted, half rising out of his chair.
He settled back into his chair and sighed. “Sorry about that,” he apologized. “I’m just frustrated.”
Dr. K
lein smiled benignly. “Adam, you’re displaying symptoms of PTSD. I talk to a lot of returning soldiers who complain of not being able to make love to their wives. It’s not because they don’t love their wives. It’s because psychologically they believe they were rendered weak and helpless by their experiences. They came back feeling as though their manhood had been taken from them.”
He took a deep breath and continued, “You say you never had a problem making love to Alia Joie before your incarceration in the Middle East. Adam, do you think being powerless to do anything against your captors might have something to do with feeling helpless now?”
The timer went off, and Dr. Klein said, “Think about it until we meet again on Thursday.”
Adam almost laughed. He felt they were actually getting somewhere, and it was time to quit for the day. This was yet another reason he hadn’t wanted to talk to a therapist. When you started making progress, you were obliged to vacate the premises. Dr. Klein undoubtedly had another patient waiting to see him.
Adam rose, feeling emotionally drained. He and Dr. Klein shook hands and he left. He would make up his mind later whether or not he’d return for a second session. He still didn’t like the idea of spilling his guts to a total stranger.
He could hear Ramona in his head saying, Why you wanna pay good money for somebody to listen to your problems when you’ve got me or your wife or your brothers-in-law or father-in-law to listen to them?
In this case, he had to admit it was better to talk to a professional. He couldn’t very well talk to his father-in-law or his brothers-in-law about not being able to make love to Alia Joie. There was no one in his life he felt comfortable talking to about such a sensitive subject.
* * *
Alia was standing in front of the mirror in the master bedroom putting in her earrings. She could hear Adam singing in the shower. Lately he’d been in a good mood. He was singing more now like he used to. He loved old-school soul music and was singing an Otis Redding song, “These Arms of Mine.” He had a solid baritone with enough soul in it to curl her toes. That song reminded her of a particularly erotic lovemaking session they’d shared in their old apartment.
A warm, sexy feeling came over her at the memory, and she let it run its course, which ended with her body shivering a little. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was no longer in braids, but in a naturally curly halo around her face, the length falling to the middle of her back. She was wearing bold gold hoop earrings with a circumference of two inches, a short black dress with long sleeves that clung to her figure and black sandals. She’d kept her makeup to a minimum. After moisturizing, she applied a little mascara and red matte lipstick. Her skin was glowing. She knew it was because she was happy and looking forward to the Christmas party here in the loft tonight.
For weeks, her friends had been wondering when they could get together with Adam. They wanted to see for themselves that he was okay. It was understandable because Adam was well liked among their friends. He genuinely cared about them, and they had missed him and been praying for his safe return right alongside her.
Plus, since Adam had started seeing Dr. Klein, with whom he’d had six sessions now, his nightmares had decreased. He was back at work and enjoying the camaraderie of his work family. Things were starting to feel...normal again. Although she hated putting that label on their life together. What was normal, anyway? Every couple had their own way of meshing. She didn’t want to focus on what they used to have, but what they could have in the future.
As for making love, that hadn’t happened yet although Adam was not stingy with hugs or kisses. They still slept together, and there hadn’t been another violent incident. And early in the mornings, she often felt his erection on her backside as they spooned in bed. That was reassuring to her. That and his habit of nuzzling her neck while he was holding her and breathing in her essence.
When they were dating, she’d found it peculiar that he would always take huge whiffs of her and exhale, a smile on his face, and say, “Ah, your scent gives me life!” No other man she’d ever dated had done that. Or perhaps she’d never noticed another man doing it. Adam, with his zest for living and his unadulterated honesty, let her know exactly how he felt about her. That was something she missed—his bold sensuality.
Adam came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist and gathered her in his arms from behind. He kissed the side of her neck. Alia looked at their reflection in the mirror. They looked like a couple very much in love.
“It’s going to be crazy,” he whispered in her ear. “Your friends, my scientist pals, your family, the tenants, all mingling together.”
She smiled. “I can’t wait.”
* * *
Adam was glad they’d decided to have the party catered buffet-style with a bartender mixing drinks. He and Alia Joie were free to entertain their guests and catch up on their lives. The loft was tastefully decorated for Christmas. The eight-foot-tall Christmas tree was lit up with multicolored lights, and poinsettias were placed around the large space where he imagined couples would gather in small groups chatting and enjoying the food and drinks.
Guests started arriving around seven; the first was Macy, Alia Joie’s best friend since childhood. He opened the door and she immediately gave him a warm hug. He’d always liked Macy. She was solid, a true friend who, Alia Joie told him, had never let her down. He hugged her back, then, setting her away from him, peered into the hallway as if he were looking for someone. “What, no date?” he asked.
She grimaced and playfully punched him on the arm. The woman boxed for fun and was in great shape, so that tap had hurt, something he tried not to let show on his face. “Don’t you start,” she warned him. “No, I’m not dating anyone at the moment. My parents tried to fix me up, but I’m not in the market for anyone who has to be foisted on me by my parents.” She grinned up at him. “Welcome back! You had us worried there for a moment, or two years to be exact.”
She walked farther into the loft, looking around. “This place looks like Martha Stewart got soused on eggnog and had her way with it.”
Adam chuckled. “I’m going to take that as a compliment.”
“As it was meant to be,” Macy assured him.
Alia Joie walked into the room then, and the women squealed with delight at seeing each other again. He knew they hadn’t gotten together in about a month, but really?
The doorbell rang and he went to answer it. Outside stood Calvin and his date, a beautiful blonde with cool gray eyes. He guessed she was a model because lately Calvin had been going through models as frequently as he changed shirts.
Calvin was six feet, the model an inch or two taller. “Adam,” Calvin said as he stepped across the threshold, pulling his date after him, “this is Nadia.”
She greeted him in Russian. He knew a little Russian and reciprocated, which earned him a huge smile. She gave him a lascivious once-over. Calvin noticed and rolled his eyes in exasperation. “Another one bites the dust,” he said to Adam in a low voice as he and Nadia headed over to the bar to order drinks. Nadia apparently didn’t know much English. Poor Calvin was having no lasting luck with women. They were attracted to him because he was a sought-after scientist, he was good-looking and personable, and he had been born into an extremely rich family.
Adam didn’t have time to ponder Calvin’s love life further because the doorbell was ringing again. This time, Maritza and Raul were on the other side of it. Before he could usher them inside, he glanced down the hallway and spied Arjun and his fiancée, Madhuri. Arjun had told him her name meant charming, and, indeed, she was the epitome of charm. Long, silky black hair, parted in the middle, fell to her waist. She was wearing a beautiful peach-colored sari, and Arjun wore a festive suit consisting of black slacks, a deep purple velvet jacket and a crisp white shirt, and the latest Air Jordans. They were a handsome couple.
“Welcome,” Adam
said enthusiastically to both couples.
“The place is gorgeous,” Maritza said, her dark eyes sparkling with excitement. Adam noticed her husband, Raul, had his arm about her waist, holding her close. He appeared happy, too, and it did Adam’s heart good to recognize such contentment in the couple.
“Thanks,” he said. “How’s Mariana? Is she thrilled that it’s almost Christmas?”
Raul laughed. “You’d be surprised by how much a toddler knows about Christmas. She’s convinced she’s going to stay up and catch Santa coming down the chimney. We don’t even have a chimney. I don’t know where she learned that fairy tale.”
“From your mother,” Maritza said, smiling at her husband. She regarded Adam. “Raul’s mother is visiting us from Florida, and she reads Mariana a different Christmas story in Spanish every night.”
“That’s good,” said Arjun as he helped Madhuri off with her coat and she returned the favor. “My family didn’t celebrate Christmas, but there are Christians in India, and I had a friend whose house I would visit and get stuffed with all sorts of sweets. The women in the family would get together in the kitchen and cook and gossip all weekend. I loved to eavesdrop on their conversations.”
“That’s why he’s so sensitive today,” Madhuri said sweetly, and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
While Arjun was blushing, Alia Joie and Macy walked up, and hugs were shared all around. Then the doorbell rang again, and Adam was off to answer it. This went on for about another half hour as Alia Joie’s family and the building’s residents arrived. His brother-in-law, Brock, showed up alone, which surprised Adam, but he didn’t joke with him about being solo as he’d done with Macy. The two men hugged hello. He could see the concern for him in Brock’s eyes. Like Chance, Brock was very protective of his sister and rightfully worried that her husband might not be all there. The thought made Adam cringe inwardly. Still, he felt he and Alia Joie were making progress.
