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“It’s good to see you, Mr. Stroker.”
The wrinkles in Siddhi’s smiling face offered the comfort of her inner peace and wisdom, wrought from years of living through life lessons. The tension in my chest eased.
“Good to see you, too.”
Her hand gestured to a pile of cushions.
“Why don’t you have a seat.”
She assumed her favorite position. Legs crossed, seated on a cushion, hands resting on her knees, palms up. Her eyes closed, and she drew in a deep breath. As she exhaled, her eyelids lifted, and the light behind them poured out and seeped into me.
“How are you, Mr. Stroker?”
I pulled my arms into my stomach and leaned over them.
“I’ve been better.”
“What’s bothering you?”
“Well...”
How do I explain this?
“I was headed for divorce. I was going to be free. Free from her games. Her manipulations.”
I drew in a large breath and pushed it out.
“I’m getting sucked back in again.”
“So, you feel powerless.”
“Yes. Very much.”
“Are you powerless, Mr. Stroker? Or are you perhaps making a choice you don’t understand?”
Her words punched me in the gut.
Why would I choose this?
“I don’t know.”
“Tell me more about your relationship with Jessica.”
“Well, it’s very sensual. She keeps it that way. It’s how she controls me.”
I wrinkled my nose, and my lips pressed together in a grimace.
I sound like I have no power.
“Tries to control me.”
Siddhi nodded and grinned.
“A few months ago, while we were having sex, she told me she had cheated on me with my boss.”
Siddhi held her thoughtful gaze.
Did you hear what I just said?
I rubbed my chin.
“It crushed me. I worked there for two decades, and in one night, she wrecked my life. But I carried on. Got a new job. Filed for divorce. Had a new girlfriend. Things were going great.”
I fumbled with the stringed tassels on a pillow in front of me.
“We were playing with me punishing her.”
I peeked up at Siddhi.
“Keep talking, Mr. Stroker.”
“It was exciting. Almost intoxicating. Now, we’re here, and I feel myself being pulled back into her.”
I shook my head.
“She’s even got me helping her in a sick game to seduce other couples on the island. Get them to cheat on each other. That is not how my parents raised me. It’s like I’m becoming a different person. Like I’m an addict.”
“But you’re not.”
“Excuse me.”
“You’re not an addict, Mr. Stroker. You are, however, choosing this, and that bothers you. Doesn’t it?”
The knot in my stomach rose into my throat and squeezed. My face flushed.
“I don’t want to choose this.”
“Are you sure?”
Ugh. I don’t know. Yes?
“She’s toying with me. Making a fool of me.”
“You mentioned your upbringing. Let’s talk about that, Mr. Stroker. Whenever we are making choices we don’t understand, we can often find the answers in our childhood.”
Oh, man. Here we go.
“It’s a long story. Where do you want to start?”
“Tell me about your mother.”
“Well, she was beautiful.”
“Interesting that her beauty comes to mind first.”
“She was. In church, it wasn’t polite for men to stare at her, and she tried very hard to hide her beauty, but I could still tell. They lusted after her. My father did, too.”
“I see. And how was she towards your father?”
“Cordial at best. Icy much of the time. And resentful of his sexual advances.”
Siddhi nodded.
“Tell me more about that.”
“Well, my father wasn’t lewd. No one in the church was. But he would try to kiss her. Hug her. Compliment her. She would lean away from his attempts at physical affection. Roll her eyes. And if he complimented her, she seemed put off by it.”
“How did that make you feel?”
“Ummm, I don’t know.”
I straightened my arm and rubbed it.
“She didn’t like sexual affection. Or attention.”
“How was your relationship with her?”
“Well, she adored me. I was her pride and joy. She often bragged about me to the other women in the church.”
“Sounds like she put you up on a pedestal.”
“You could say that.”
“Were you ever afraid of falling off the pedestal and disappointing her?”
“All the time. As my sexuality emerged, I became a compulsive masturbator and felt so ashamed. I knew she would disapprove, and I believed God was looking down on me with disdain.”
Siddhi scowled and nodded her head.
“I had volumes of journals. Letters to God. All of them apologizing for masturbating again.”
“Were the other women in the church like your mother?”
“Well, none of them looked like my mother, but yes, they also avoided any appearance of sensuality.”
“And these were the only women you knew?”
“Yes. Until I met Jessica.”
Siddhi’s eyes lit up.
“Ahh, I see.”
My chest tightened, and I pulled my arms back into my body.
See what?
“So, tell me about meeting Jessica. What was it about her? The actual story.”
“She was beautiful. And wore a flattering outfit. Was not hiding her figure at all. The night I met her, she came into a diner, all flustered. I would have found her unapproachable, but I had a rare moment of courage. She was a damsel in distress.”
My arms relaxed, allowing my knees to rise into their embrace. My eyes glazed over as I stared at the pillow in front of me and remembered.
“We talked. We laughed. In no time, I knew she broke ranks from every other woman I had known. She seemed vibrant. Wild. Free.”
“Hmm, a ticket out of your own prison?”
“Perhaps.”
Siddhi raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, she was. Before the evening ended, we went behind the restaurant, and she was... well...”
“Showing you the freedom of her sexuality?”
“A nice way to put it.”
Siddhi smiled.
“And she was cheating on her boyfriend at the time when she did it. I should have known then that she was a cheater.”
“Did you not know? Or did you not care?”
“Well, when she did that...”
Siddhi leaned forward and lifted a finger as if pointing at a revelation in the middle of my forehead.
“Perhaps, you gravitated to her rebellion against the rules?”
Maybe. In which case, I deserve what I got. What I’m still getting.
My shoulders slumped away from my head, and I nodded.
“Ron, I’m not your typical therapist. A typical therapist would categorize your relationship as toxic for you both and everyone around you. They would pathologize your behavior and recommend extensive counseling to uncover the deep wounds that cause you to behave in such destructive ways.”
I dropped my head down to my forearms and hid my mouth behind them as a piercing flush of heat erupted from my chest.
I’m a terrible person. We deserve each other.
“But Ron, I believe that genuine love - not some fairy tale version, but the real, raw thing - manifests differently in every couple, because people are different. If you are true to love, it will guide you.”
“But is this love? Jessica has only stayed with me because I’m her plaything. She’s like a cruel little girl pulling the arms off a doll. She has no respect for me.”
Siddhi leaned back and got up.
“Ron, I want to show you something.”
She walked over to an ornate curtain and pulled it back. Behind it, a large, rustic board floated over the floor, mounted on two wooden legs.
“What is it?”
Siddhi pointed to tiny scratch marks on the board. Hundreds of them. Some were colorless indentions, but most were tinted red as if carved in blood.
“Those are all the couples I’ve counseled.”
“Wow. It looks like a lot.”
“One thousand, three hundred, and sixty-nine to be exact.”
“What are the red marks?”
“That’s what I wanted to show you. Most couples come into this sacred place with troubles, Ron. And most troubled couples come here because one of them - and perhaps both - has cheated.”
“The red marks are couples who have a cheater?”
“Yes. But, in every case, they kept the secret from their partner. They told me, of course. Many left this island still keeping their secret.”
She looked at the marks as if they were her wounded children. Then she turned, walked back to her cushion, and took a seat. Her head turned back to the board.
“Most of those cheaters were women, Ron. Our society treats the cheating woman with tremendous derision. Most women who cheat could never tell their husband, but Jessica told you.”
Her eyes burned with a clean, crystal fire as she looked at me.
“Not only does she respect you, Ron. She thinks highly of you. Otherwise, she would not have told you.”
“I don’t follow.”
“Most women know their husbands couldn’t handle the truth of their confession. Society cripples men from being able to handle it. They learn to internalize it and believe it is about them.”
She smiled and lifted her fingers like a tiny church steeple to her lips.
“Jessica believed you might be strong enough for her terrible truth. Not just to show you her betrayal of another, as she did by confessing her infidelity with her boyfriend. That confession alone risks judgment for the modern woman. But she chose to face you - the betrayed - with her truth.”
A sensation trickled in my chest, like ice thawing under the first sunlight of Spring.
“She took a monumental risk in telling you, Ron.”
Siddhi’s eyes drifted back over to her board and all those red marks.
“A risk most women would not take.”
She tilted her head and looked back at me.
“But she did it because she believed you were strong. That you might accept the worst of her truth. On some level, she may have chosen your boss because she wanted you to see the worst of her.”
Wow.
“You know this? Have you talked to her?”
“No. I have not. But, Ron...”
Siddhi gestured towards the board.
“I’ve counseled a lot of cheaters. Most of them want their partner to see them. To accept them. And I’ve got a hunch about Jessica and you. She wants to be seen.”
Waves of warmth rolled through my body, making my extremities tingle.
“May I suggest why you are still in this with her?”
I bit down on the inside of my cheek and nodded.
Uh oh, here it comes.
“You are a spiritual person, Ron. I knew it the second I saw you enter this place. And you were looking for a place to worship. One that would harmonize with the darker currents flowing in your soul.”
My ears grew warm, and I winced.
“Do not be ashamed of your darkness, Ron. We all have darkness inside of us. It is part of the balance.”
My lungs released the breath they held back.
“She became your goddess. Your inner worship found her worthy of your devotion. Your sacrifice.”
A tear formed in the corner of my eye, and my arms turned weightless.
“You are stronger than you think, Ron. But Jessica sees you. She believes. And you believe in her. In her truth. Her dark truth.”
Siddhi leaned back, smiling at me, and placed her hands behind her for support.
“I think we’ve covered a lot for one session, Ron. Why don’t we end on that note?”
I stared at the floor as my eyelids blinked in slow motion.
“Yeah. Ok. Sounds good.”
Perhaps it’s time for me to get back to church.
