Page 26 of Tell Me Something

I recognized we were trading vulnerabilities and took a deep breath. “Yes, briefly on the hospitalization, and I was on antidepressants for a few weeks, but they made me fuzzy.” My voice was small. I wished I could simply erase that part of my life.

“Did you try to harm yourself?” His voice was quiet and nonjudgmental, but I still felt deeply exposed.

“No, but I stopped taking care of myself. I couldn’t get out of bed. I didn’t talk to anyone. Or shower. I just cried and wanted to give up. Not the same as slitting my wrists, but not exactly healthy, either.” I could feel his hands rubbing my arms, warming me up from the chill. “What prompted the vasectomy?”

“Betrayal.”

Letting out a harsh breath, I took his hand and brought it to my lips assuming she must’ve cheated on him. I gave it a kiss and turned towards him. “I’m sorry.”

“Who found you, got you help?”

Having needed help both embarrassed and stung. “My father’s partner and best friend, Charlie Hastings.” I hoped not to have to elaborate, but Josh wasn’t having it.

“What happened?”

“He and his wife, Beth, had been checking up on me, but I hadn’t returned their calls. He found me crumpled on the bathroom floor, dehydrated and out of it. He called an ambulance and they, uh, put me in a place for a few weeks. He even paid for everything and then moved me down to LA. I owe him a great deal, and yet he refuses to see it that way.” I got up and paced, trying to mentally shrug off the memory. “The thing is that I’m not that girl anymore. She wasn’t strong enough to pull it together. So talking about her and what happened isn’t easy.”

“That was just a few months ago. I think you should cut yourself some slack.”

With a forced smile, I took a seat again, feeling more myself by the minute. “I’m not going back there. I don’t need the meds, and I don’t need the counseling. It was just a reaction to a tough situation. I’m stronger now and realize only I can change my fate and the way I choose to look at life. I may not believe that life has a big happy ending, but being depressed is a choice. I’m choosing not to be.”

“Depression isn’t something you can just flick on or off like a switch. I think it’s commendable that you have adopted a can-do attitude, but it isn’t always so simple. You lost both your parents at a very pivotal time in your life—”

It was easier to keep a handle on my emotions when I wasn’t receiving sympathy. “I appreciate what you’re trying to say, but I don’t need you to psychoanalyze me. You surely wouldn’t want me returning the favor. Now, I’m not pretending I won’t have moments where I’m sad about things because I know I will. But this is something I need to do for myself. No one else can help me with it.”

“All right. I won’t say anymore. Everyone has their own way of dealing with things, and if this works for you, then I’ll respect that.”

“Thank you.” I breathed a sigh of relief that the conversation was over.

“I don’t want to get married again, ever, nor have children. I walked away in Mexico because I don’t want to hurt you. I should’ve been strong enough to have let you go to your room and not used the key, but instead I called Mark and—”

I put my finger to his lips. “I’m really happy that you called Mark. And I’m glad we’re clear on what it is you want and don’t want. In the interest of full disclosure, I want to get married someday and have kids, and I mean plural because being an only child when you lose your parents sucks. But before doing any of that, I want to go to law school, get a job, and settle somewhere. That means I don’t want a long-term relationship now that might derail that plan.” Just the thought of anything long term at this point in my life petrified me as I wasn’t ready to deal with that kind of complication.

“So we figure this out until you leave for school next fall?”

“Considering we both want different things and are heading in separate directions, I think it would be good to have an expiration date up front.” It would be nice to know when something was set to end as opposed to having the rug dragged out from under me. Losing both parents had taught me that nothing was for certain, and time went by in the snap of a finger.

Drawing back, he stroked his thumbs under my eyes and wiped away the residual tears. “I need to catch a plane to Hong Kong.”

Frowning, I got up from the couch only to be pulled back down.

“I needed some time by myself to process,” he maintained, searching my eyes.

I knew I wasn’t doing a good job of hiding that I was upset. “How’s that working out for you?” Considering he’d essentially followed me here, he was clearly a walking contradiction.

“Look, it wasn’t personal.”

Rolling my eyes, I felt all of the anger and embarrassment from the morning return. “It sure as hell felt personal. After a night of your face in my hooha, the next thing I have is a note saying you’re leaving me in Mexico.”

The corners of his mouth twitched. “Hooha?”

My gaze narrowed. “That would be what you take from that sentence. Bottom line is you hired me to be your travel assistant. Then you leave me to do the walk of shame back into the office. What was I supposed to think? And what was I supposed to tell Nigel when I came back without you?”

“What’s a walk of shame?”

I got up, and took a deep breath. “Google it. I’m not taking the time to explain it as you have a flight to catch. I’ll see you once you return to New York.”

“Okay, and maybe I’ll lookup hooha, too, while I’m at it.” Smirking, he pulled out his phone.