Page 101 of Side Piece

I laugh and look at my watch and say, “And seventeen minutes.”

“And give or take forty-two, forty-three seconds.”

I let my tone drift off to end our little levity. I want to be lightened from this burden. I met Ari shortly after my breakup and intense therapy. Mikey knows bits, but I hold this story close. It’s the core of who I am and why. I’ve learned not to be ashamed, but I haven’t learned how to completely move past what she did to me. She turns to speak, and I touch her arm lightly. It’s as if my entire body is flooded with summer. I’ll never get this chance again. I let her leave because of Charlotte, not because I didn’t love her enough. I’m wired differently, and I can’t undo it.

I sit up straight. My voice is gruff, “Her name was Charlotte. We met sophomore year of college.” She shakes her head like she doesn’t want to hear, but she will. I guide her face to mine with a soft hand on her cheek. I exhale an abbreviated version of this story. “I loved her. Or it’s what I thought love was.” I nod to her because I never truly loved anything until her. “I let her become my world, and we fell into a deep relationship. She was possessive, obsessive, and controlling. I thought that’s what relationships were supposed to be. We were together for three years, and only one was ever any good. We moved in together the next year, and she changed. She didn’t like being away from me. She asked me to give up some of my friends to spend more time with her. I thought we were deepening our relationship. That’s what my dad did for my mom. He gave up things. I did anything to make her happy.”

My beautiful Tess simply places her delicate hand on my knee. Her intense aqua eyes never wavering in support. I find myself and my voice in her touch.

I say, “I did everything but chew her food for her, but it was never enough. If I went out with friends, when I came home, we’d fight. She’d fling herself on the floor, telling me she wasn’t enough for me. I’d run to her side and reassure her that she was. The fights would be long hours of me apologizing to stop her from crying. She thrived on the drama, and I had no idea what I was feeding.

“To prove my love,” I use air quotes and sip my bourbon. “I made more compromises. I changed my class schedule and major. I let pre-law go and took more world policy classes because they were closer to her classes. She built my schedule around her, and I let her. I believed it was a relationship. I thought you both gave up yourselves to build more.

“By year two, we fought, and I consoled her more than we talked. In the end, all I did was resent her. I felt guilty all the time. I felt guilty when I did things with her or without her. I resented my lack of independence. I kept looking at myself as if I wasn’t enough for this woman. I believed I wasn’t enough for myself. I internalized that her unhappiness was my fault.”

Tess’s eyes cloud up for just a split second. I pause. She doesn’t move her hand. This is the hard part. I still carry the guilt, even though, with time and distance, I know it had little to do with me. It was a weapon in Charlotte’s theater of cruelty.

“Go on. You’re ok. I’m here.”

I grin at my own words flooding back to me. “She’d cut herself. Started as her coping mechanism of choice, like bulimia before that. I bandaged her and pledged my devotion. After a couple of weeks, we’d settle into our version of normal. And then she attempted suicide twice while we were together. Once, she almost succeeded when I went to a fraternity party, she didn’t want to attend. The first time she used pills when I went home to see my parents. This time with a razor. The image of her on the couch still haunts me.”

Tess gasps. “The insomnia. Oh, Alex, so much tucked away from me.”

I nod at her. The way she turns a phrase will always melt me.

“Even though I spent every waking moment doting on her, trying not to upset her, it wasn’t enough. She destroyed my self-image, and all I did was look for her approval. I changed everything for her. I dropped out of my frat. I gave up law school because she didn’t like the idea of long hours of studying. It got to the point I didn’t go out. If I went for coffee with friends after class, I’d come home to her having trashed the house and sobbing I didn’t love her. I was so deep I didn’t know I was being abused and manipulated. It escalated when she could no longer control me with hurting herself.”

I shift uncomfortably, and she scoots closer to me. With Tess’s eyes open wide and her heart open wide, I find the courage to keep speaking.

“It started with slapping my face when she thought she caught me out too late or suspected I’d cheated on her. I was so deep into the cycle that I didn’t see it. I’m not an idiot. I had a loving home life and healthy self-esteem. It took me a long time and lots of therapy to be able to say it wasn’t my fault, but when you’re in it, you can’t see an exit.”

“She hit you?”

I nod, and she moves to hold me. I put my hand up.

“Let me get through this. I was embarrassed by it, confused, and ashamed. I thought it would stop. I always thought it was an isolated incident. She’d be good for a couple of weeks. Affectionate, fun, open, and sweet. She’d apologize profusely for either abusing herself or me. She’d promise it would never happen again. And then we would slide towards an incident. On the slide, she’d start to say things, like, ‘It won’t happen again if you remember to call me after class.’ Then I’d forget or get caught up in a discussion with someone and return to our apartment with fear and dread. She broke a rib with my fraternity paddle in the middle of the night. Just before the frat basketball championships, so I couldn’t play. There was a metal cooking spoon she’d smack my face with when I was sleeping. The bruises would prevent me from going to class. I’d be exhausted, and we’d spend the day with her doting on me. She’d hide my computer or different things she knew I’d need. When I’d call her out, she’d sob and tell me about our epic love for the ages and that she’d die without me. Suicide was the most powerful weapon in her arsenal.”

Tears are flowing down her cheeks, and she reaches for a cocktail napkin. I grab her some more. Then she nods to continue. I kiss her on the temple, and she squeezes my hand.

“I finally talked to my sister. I was trying to figure out what I was doing wrong in the relationship. I thought she could help me find a way to make Charlotte happy. My sister leaped into action seeing the situation for what it was. She helped me see it. We went to Charlotte’s parents together. They didn’t care. She’d always searched for their attention in the same way. Eventually, they took her out of school in the middle of our senior year for treatment. That’s when I found it. My way through. You once told me work was your salvation. I should have told you why it was mine.”

“Alex.” Her voice is breathy and full of emotion. I smile at her and place my finger on her precious and perfect lips.

“I put my head down and finished my missing pre-law requirements with an extra semester at school. I took eighteen credits until I finished college and finished law school. Much like you, I found my salvation in work.”

Tess is embedded as far as any human could be in my soul. I just don’t have a way in to the rest of it. There’s a dark part cordoned off because of Charlotte. No one can ever use or hurt me like that again. Tess would never use me. My head knows this, my heart knows this, but my soul can’t seem to get the message. I’ll never be fully hers. I feel my pain ease as I think about my head shoved in books. My success never harms me. The safety of my studies and work wraps around my psyche to create a safe shelter.

I say, “This isn’t about my dad. It worked for him because he never loved work like I do. He never needed it like I do. I’ve never compromised for anyone again until now. Until you.” I catch a tear on her cheek.

She removes her hand and straightens up. She pulls herself together in front of me. “It’s ok. You never got to say these things to me. You needed to say them so we can move on. I hope this will help us find an ending and stop hurting so damn much.”

Tears sting the back of my eyes. She’s right. We need to break up for real. I didn’t participate in it before. That wasn’t fair to either of us. I’m not sure I’ll ever get over her, but I’m on board if it can fucking hurt less. I want to be that man she needs. I want to be there for her, but I need work to be the thing I rely on. That’s the only thing I can rely on.

“Tess, I changed my life in small ways for you. And it wasn’t enough. I felt fucking guilty for all the moments I didn’t spend with you. It was too familiar, and it was suffocating, and I bailed long before you sent the shots. I’m so sorry. So sorry, innocent and beautiful, Tess.” I close my eyes tight to shut out the pain, her acceptance, and the tears I refuse to cry. She moves closer and holds me close, and it hurts more, not less.

“Work never judges me. Work is always satisfied, and work’s always there for me. It’s the thing I understand, and it’s uncompromising.”

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