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God, if she only knew what I’ve been through. The only thing that kept me going for so long was that we barely saw each other. With my travels around the world, we’ve barely lived together for thirty days total in six months, probably less. And when we were together, it usually ended in a fight, as it did the night, he assaulted me.
What would my parents and friends say if I told them that the gold-star man, an assistant professor at one of the largest universities in the country, told me point-blank on my wedding night that he was only ever satisfied with group sex? That he could never be horny in a regular relationship? That he expected me to sleep with his friends so he could watch because he couldn’t get aroused any other way with a woman?
Girls usually talk about their wedding nights with wonder. In mine, there was no sex, no affection, nothing. I was locked in the suite next to his, throwing up nervously and crying.
We weren’t going on a honeymoon anyway because I had work commitments, so the next morning, I ran to ask my Dad for help.
That’s when he told me that living together in marriage was difficult.
Even with no experience, I knew it had nothing to do with livingtogether; it was a defect inside Mike that couldn’t be corrected.
I spent the first month away, and when I came back, he was the kind man I knew again, but he never tried to touch me. I think he believed that I would be curious about sex and that I would eventually give in, which just proves he didn’t know anything about me. I started feeling disgusted.
Our relationship was never based on physical attraction on my part but on friendship. So, him not giving any indication that he wanted to have sex with me, I’m not ashamed to admit, was a relief.
The three days I was in Boston, we talked like we used to, even though he slept in the next room. To be honest, I got used to the dynamic because it wasn’t until after we were married that I realized I didn’t want another man touching me.
The lull lasted until I got back home a month and a half later.
Again, after a disastrous dinner with his friends, he blamed me for our marriage not working out and brought up the whole group sex thing again.
I decided to leave the house and stay with my parents, determined to tell Bia everything the next day and ask her to help me with the divorce process.
That same night, Mom took a turn for the worse, and we thought we were going to lose her. The doctor suggested an alternative and very expensive chemotherapy, a new method. I had to focus on having money to pay the hospital bills because I would never forgive myself if she died because we couldn’t afford to treat her.
Life was a merry-go-round of bad emotions during that time. I traveled, fearing I’d get a call from my father saying that she was gone. I was always tense, getting very little sleep and eating poorly.
Feeling suffocated, I told Bia everything, and she said she would support me a hundred percent to try to get a divorce discreetly. It was with that in mind that I returned home that week. Regardless of what had happened, I would have ended our union. His hitting me was the missing stone in the grave of our relationship.
What relationship, Lord?There was no relationship, just a mistake. We were never even friends. I see that now.
I remember the call from Christos.
Did I mess up sending that text? Should I have waited for Bia to clear everything up with her ex-boyfriend before talking to him?
I don’t regret taking the initiative for the first time, accepting the fact that it could all have been a terrible misunderstanding.
God, he wanted to see me today, even! It must mean something that he was willing to drop everything to come find me, especially after how things ended up between us.
I knew that I hadn’t forgotten him and would never forget him, but I didn’t expect to feel him so strongly inside my heart after so much time had passed.
It was as if he had touched me only yesterday. As if I was still the insecure girl who gave herself to her dark hero that one night in Barcelona.
I need to hear his side of the story, if only to move on.
However, right now, still unsure of anything about Pauline’s accident, I know that whatever the outcome is, there will never be another man for me.
Zoe
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
“Where are you going?”Bia asks, almost scaring me to death as I walk down the hall.
“I was going to borrow your car. Mine is out of gas, and I want to buy ice cream.”
“Too excited?”
I nod my head.
