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“Good evening, Mr. Stroker.”
Ron nodded to Siddhi as she smiled at him.
“Thank you for seeing me this late.”
“Well, I don’t normally see my couples at this hour, but given your situation, I believe it merited an exception. Why don’t you come in and have a seat?”
She guided him with a gentle touch on his arm.
“Can I get you anything?”
“No, thank you. Well, can you get me a new heart?”
He chuckled, but his heart ached at the sound of his own words.
Siddhi continued to smile, her eyes searching his face as he sat down.
“If only it were that easy, Mr. Stroker.”
She sat and crossed her legs. The inviting, comforting energy of her space pried at Ron’s soul, priming the pump of his emotions. A tear streamed from the corner of his eye, and that disturbed him. Yes, the recent events in his world rocked him, but he couldn’t put a finger on the reason for his tears. Yet they came.
“So, tell me. How are you doing?”
“I don’t know.”
“You have a lot to process.”
Ron let out a hard puff of breath.
“You could say that.”
“The last time we talked, you said you needed a break. It looks like you are going to get it.”
Ron’s eyes fell to the floor in front of him.
“Yeah. Looks like.”
“How do you feel about that?”
“I don’t know. Confused.”
“How so?”
“Well, I...”
Ron hugged his arms around his chest and leaned over them, sandwiching them between his chest and knees.
“I thought I wanted a break. I thought I wanted justice. To see her pay for her crimes.”
“And she has.”
“Yes.”
Ron nodded, his eyes frozen in a vacant stare.
“Yes, she has.”
He closed his eyes and took a deep breath before sighing.
“And I thought that would make me happy. Make me feel vindicated. But I’m not happy.”
He opened one eye, peeking at Siddhi, as though he expected an “I told you so.”
“I’m actually pretty miserable.”
She smiled.
“How can I shake this? How can I feel better?”
“I don’t think those are the right questions.”
Ron’s forehead wrinkled as he frowned.
“What are the right questions?”
“What do you want, Ron? You still haven’t figured that out. You are still sitting on the fence between one life and another. Now you have everything you need to create a new life free of her. The life you said that you wanted. But you are still holding on. Why?”
Ron lifted his hands and dropped them to the floor, raising his voice.
“I don’t know.”
“Let go of her, Ron. Move on. And if you can’t, then you need to be honest with yourself.”
“Honest with myself? What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Can you live without her?”
Ron’s mouth shriveled as though Siddhi squirted something sour into it.
“Oh, definitely.”
She cocked an eyebrow.
“Ok, then why are you struggling? Your new life awaits. Take your money and go create it.”
Ron’s shoulders drooped from his neck, and the great cavity in his chest ached.
“What does it look like? This life you want to create for yourself?”
Ron imagined Little House on the Prairie. In black and white. Peaceful breezes blowing across a field. A sense of security. Safety. Where nothing dangerous or scandalous ever happened. He scowled.
“I don’t know.”
“I think you do. And when you look into your future, does it make you happy? Does it make you feel alive?”
His voice dropped, and he rested his forehead on his hands.
“No. No, it doesn’t.”
It looked like a prison to Ron. Like a repeat of his childhood. Like dutiful observance of all the rules. Left to his own devices, Ron feared he would follow his patterns and create a life of boredom. That he would wither and die in a casket of the mundane. Siddhi’s hand rested on his shoulder.
“You have a choice to make, Ron. Until you decide, you are going to be miserable.”
Ron looked up and smirked.
“Thanks for that.”
She laughed.
“I have faith in you, Ron Stroker. Listen to your heart. It will lead you.”
It already is, he thought. I’m just not sure I’m ready to go there.
