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My love life was like the protagonists’ love life on a soap opera. A tragedy. Always deceived, emotionally hurt and devoid of all hope of finding a loved one.
Once you lose your hope, you become a kind of witch.
Like Maleficent, for example. After believing in love and putting all your trust in another person, they betray you.
When that happens, you find yourself in need of locking yourself away and not allowing —not even God— to enter into your feelings.
Imagine what happens when you are betrayed several times.
That happened to me.
Could it have been bad luck? Yes, maybe. I was convinced I had a magical eye-not technically-to select men who only made me suffer.
And a lot.
By this I don’t mean there are no good men in the world.
Please!
My best friend since childhood, Holly, always enjoyed the pleasure of wonderful men. Starting with her father, whom I adored as if he were mine.
Holly met Sam. A more than wonderful man. He was perfect and an exemplary father. Unfortunately, life had other plans for them. Sam died in a traffic accident. However, my dear friend, met another man: Steve, with whom she is happily married.
Steve is great with Holly and her kids. He’s someone special. He loves Holly's children as if they were his own.
Anyway, either it was luck, or Holly had run into the only good men there was in life.
I suppose my love chaos begins with my father's absence. He was an idiot. He ran away as soon as my mother told him she was pregnant.
My mother, a woman like few, played both roles and did fine. However, I would have liked to meet the man who gave his contribution to create me.
They say a girl’s first love is their father, perhaps which was why I had gone so wrong in my relationships. I hadn’t met my first love.
I was always a girl of very dreamy ideal love. She had to admit it.
During adolescence, I could spend days inventing stories of how I would meet my prince charming and we would live happily ever after.
I met some guys who stole my breath as well as my thoughts, but it always ended for one reason or another. Life changes, parental separations, studies.
No cheating at the time.
At University, I decided to be better, more selective. I ended up married to my first ex-husband.
Aaron Williams left me speechless since the first time I laid eyes on him. Each time he approached me, I thought I would have a heart attack the way my heart raced.
He wasn’t the most athletic or handsome guy at the university. Not even the most famous, but he was enchanting. To me, he had a wonderful smile. It was a wonderful quality. He made me laugh endlessly.
The first time we had sex, he told me while looking me directly in my eyes that he loved me. I assumed he had his life in order.
I had found my prince charming and would live happily ever after with him.
I couldn’t have been more wrong!
The first year of marriage was a honeymoon. The sex was great and we did not stop laughing.
The second year, we began to get a little more serious and sex was not so frequent ... nor so great.
The third year, I received my first blow in love.
One day, I came home from work and found Aaron rolling around in”our” bed with a blonde who looked like Barbie’s twin sister.
That was the day I discovered I harbored a Mr. Hyde inside me.
I erupted into tears, crying, drama, and closing with a flourish: I burned the mattress inside the apartment causing the firemen to arrive. I had to pay an astronomical fine in order to stay out of jail.
I returned home to live with my mother. She was everything to me.
I took refuge in her arms as my emotional wounds healed.
When I felt like I was healed and had ‘forgotten’. I moved into an apartment to start living my adult life.
I was always responsible about everything. Even sex. I didn’t want children, but I wanted to have a healthy and fun sex life, so I took care of protecting myself from diseases and unwanted pregnancies.
I was not a statuesque woman. I had to be objective with myself.
I was a woman with pretty brown eyes, dark hair and a wide smile.
I had ‘something’ that made men go crazy. Some claimed it was my eyes; others, the sway of my hips and others, claimed I had a sensual mouth.
I thought it was big.
I didn’t want serious relationships, so I took any show of affection lightly. If I believed the affair was becoming dangerously affectionate, I would just disappear from the life of the candidate on duty.
Until my 33rd year. I met Carl.
***
Carl and I work in different departments at the same company.
He was almost 40, with gray beginning to populate his dark hair. It made him look sexy.
In addition, he was like a gentleman straight out of a fairy tale.
I let myself be dazzled by both his charm and gifts. He said women were princesses and should be treated as such.
At the time I didn’t pay special attention to the ‘pluralism’ he always used in that statement.
I was blind. That was all.
Although, I was completely in love, I decided to behave as the responsible person I was. I didn’t want to rush things with Carl. I wasn’t a twenty-year-old who could go through life recklessly anymore.
I had matured and needed to take it easy.
Carl was special. During the two years of courtship, I felt like I was on cloud nine. There was not a day he didn’t court me. He always had a compliment ready for me and lucky for me, sex was more than phenomenal.
After two years in such a relationship, when he asked me to marry, I could do nothing except jump and cry with joy.
He asked me one night, after sex. We were still recovering from the pleasure. He was still inside me. He stared into my eyes, kissed my lips slowly and asked me to be his wife.
At that moment I was convinced things would finally be different. I had come across my wonderful prince charming. He had confessed how he loved me and wanted me to be his for the rest of his life. At that moment, I didn’t realize I was reliving a similar scene from my past.
It's just, I was romantic and stupid. For real.
We were married. We had a beautiful ceremony with many guests, Carl's family belonged to Chicago’s upper class and thus, we began our life as husband and wife.
In my wonderful new house, I discovered my passion of decoration and flowers.
I started to take care of the garden along with taking courses to learn how to make flower decorations. In a short time, I had a garden to envy. On two occasions, it was portrayed in an important national decoration magazine.
What more could I ask for?
I had a wonderful husband who showered me with devotion, money, a great house and a unique hand at taking care of plants.
Carl wanted to give me something special for my 40th birthday. Since I was entering my 40 year crisis and my job at the time was very stressful. He decided it was time for me to start my own business.
Considering I was so passionate about flowers as well as decorations, he gave me a florist.
My life was perfect, or so I thought it was at the time.
There was a neglected shop in a good spot downtown. Carl bought it to set up our business there.
The shop was great. Vintage, with a fairly large central courtyard. That was what made me fall in love with it. I could imagine a lovely natural garden as an exhibition for the clients.
We hired a small remodeling company because we didn’t need major changes. Shortly after the necessary work was completed, we opened our doors to the public.
The business was ours. I was in charge of the commercial and decoration element and Carl, legal and administrative matters.
The best moment of my life began due to my surprise. I began to be very successful in the market.
Soon I was recognized. I received a visit from the mother of one of the city's most famous women. She was someone, who reported to the press about parties and shows. I knew we would reach the top very soon.
In the workplace, of course.
The day Mrs. Harris hired me to be the official decorator for her daughter's wedding; I received my second blow in love.
Mrs. Harris had spent the whole morning talking to me about the details of Bridget's wedding. When she left, I was so excited, I only wanted to get home, kiss Carl to the point of fatigue and celebrate our glorious new customer.
Why wait until nightfall to greet my husband at home and give him the great news, if I could buy lunch and surprise him at his office?
That's what any woman would do, right?
I stopped by our favorite restaurant, ordered takeaway. Then I went to the supermarket and bought the best bottle of champagne along with two glasses.
I was happy, singing as loud as I could while planning everything I would do to my husband before we ate lunch.
I wanted to celebrate and have sex in Carl's office. It was very tempting.
Upon arriving at the office, his secretary was not at her desk.
I was not surprised. It was lunch time.
Carl's office door was locked.
Before I could knock on the door, I heard panting from inside the office.
Yes, pant. In plural.
My husband didn’t exercise in his office. To think maybe, he was burning calories on a treadmill.
No.
My blood pressure dropped drastically.
My hands began to shake and I felt off balance.
She panted again and I listened to my husband say, “Turn around; I want to penetrate you from behind.”
Another pant.
It was as if a very evil thousand year old demon took possession of me.
The blood rose to my head in a matter of seconds and flames were about to burst from my ears.
I opened the office door and the first thing I saw was my husband’s flat naked ass. The bastard had his pants and boxer briefs around his ankles with his shirt half unbuttoned.
He spun around and the scene grew even more disgusting. His erection pointed straight at me.
“It's not what you think,” he said, raking his fingers through his hair, as if I was bothered by his unkempt hair.
I lifted my eyebrow.
Could he really be so brazen as to say “it's not what you think”?
I was at the point of exploding.
The woman leaning on Carl's desk had her skirt around her waist and her panties by her ankles.
Surprise! It was his secretary.
“Let me explain.”
I heard Carl say in an attempt to apologize. The secretary got up quickly, pulled up her panties, and lowered her skirt. That was not why she was already dressed. She wore a black corset that went to her waist, exposing her chest. She adjusted it and picked up the jacket laying on the floor before leaving the office without saying a word.
“Close the door,” Carl said cautiously. “We need to talk.”
I placed my bags on the floor, pierced Carl with a glare and said,
“From now on, you're only going to talk to my lawyer. You and I, we have nothing to discuss.”
“Please, Jen. Let me explain,” He pleaded, coming over to take my arm.
I jerked away.
“You disgust me.”
I left his office.
Before entering the elevator, the secretary crossed my path when she came out of the bathroom fully refreshed.
I stared at her icily, from head to toe.
She lowered her head as she hurried away.
“Thank you for showing me who my husband is,” I said in a loud voice. I wanted everyone to know what my husband —the boss— of the entire company had done.
I didn’t give a damn about his stupid reputation or his wealthy family.
The secretary stopped, giving me a sideways glance.
“I'm truly sorry.”
“Whores never regret anything,” I said hatefully.
Those around us stared with wide eyes.
The elevator arrived and I left.
With a broken heart, but my head held high.
***
When I got home and closed the door, I allowed myself to completely fall apart.
I couldn’t forget the revolting image of Carl screwing his secretary.
I had the immediate urge to wash my ears out. I couldn’t stop replaying when he told her he wanted to penetrate her from behind.
Damn-filthy-liar!
Carl was a facade.
I had been fooled by his romantic words making me believe he was my prince charming.
I wish I had Maleficent’s power. I would have set fire to his prized dick.
But that was not what happened.
I sank into the tub of warm water with a bottle of wine.
I stayed there for the rest of the day. Drowning my sorrows with wine and trying to wash away everything I saw and heard today.
When I came out of the bathroom, I was dressed like I was going to a business dinner.
Carl was sitting in the living room.
“Are you going out?” He asked me with a feigned smile after inspecting me from head to foot.
I dressed like this to give you a glamorous kick in the ass.
I looked him directly in the eyes. This time, wishing I was Medusa so I could turn him into stone.
He stood and approached me.
I took a step back.
“Jen, honey, let's work this out.”
Was he really going to continue with that stupid game?
“There's nothing to clarify, Carl. I told you before. Do not speak to me. Tomorrow, my lawyer will contact you to reach an agreement on our divorce.”
He observed me ironically.
“Which lawyer, Jen? And to what agreement we will arrive?”
I struck him with a glare. The asshole was making fun of me to my face because he knew I didn’t have a lawyer. I always used the one at his company.
Idiot.
“If I tell you tomorrow my lawyer will contact you, it's because I know what I'm talking about-it wouldn’t be a problem finding a lawyer tonight. Someone I knew had to know a lawyer. Period. And the agreement is what has to be reached in these cases.”
“I'm not going to hand anything over to you.”
My eyes widened big as a dinner plate.
“You must give by the legal means, as is appropriate.”
“I'm not going to give you a divorce. Period,” he said seriously, into my eyes.
Was he challenging me?
“Then I'll have to kill you to be a free woman again and I'll keep everything that is yours.”
“You won’t be able to. You can’t even kill a fly.”
I hated him for deceiving me and for knowing me so well.
I decided not to continue this game.
I opened the door and went to Holly's house.
I needed my friend.
***
After weeping on Holly's shoulder all night and listening to Sam swear he was going to kill Carl if he found him on the street, I went home to pick up my things and get out of there.
I still did not have a lawyer. I had to find one as soon as possible.
“Your lawyer has not called me yet,” Carl informed me as soon as I entered the room with a couple of empty suitcases.
“I haven’t called him yet.”
“Jen, please, let's be adults. You are acting like a teenager. You are a woman who can understand the difference between sleeping with someone and loving someone.”
Damn it! All the beautiful composure I had up to this point, disappeared.
I let the impulsive Jen take over and I exploded like a big atomic bomb.
It was Mr. Hyde’s second appearance in my life.
I commenced to throw everything fragile I saw against the walls.
Carl gaped at me in amazement at first which quickly turned into fear when I headed for the kitchen, looking for the biggest knife we owned. I began stabbing everything that crossed my path.
“Calm down, Jen. Please I beg you. You’re scaring me.”
I still hadn’t said a word.
I was Mr. Hyde and if I turned to look at Carl, I was sure I would stab him next.
The leather sofa in the living room, which cost a fortune, became a huge heap of rubble.
I don’t know how long I stayed like this.
I only know when I calmed down, I went back to our room, filled my bags with my most basic things, and returned downstairs.
On my way to the door, Carl was still sitting in a dining room chair that had survived my attack. He was pale.
“You're right about something, Carl,” I said wryly. “I am an adult woman who knows how to make a difference. You never loved me, that's why you were unfaithful to me. Now, you will go from being my husband to my ex-husband. You will have to rebuild your house, because you're right about that, too. It is your house and you will take care of furnishing it again.”
I opened the door and left, as if I were going on a trip.
I couldn’t let anyone know how shattered I was inside.
Once I got to my mother's house and she hugged me, I fell apart again.
***
I was at my mother's house for a few weeks.
Weeks in which I worked every day on forgetting Carl. It hurt like hell wanting to forget about him. I loved him like a fool.
I had retained a lawyer, a florist's client, by the way. When she found out what Carl had done to me, she offered to help me with the divorce suit for adultery.
The idiot kept calling me. He did not want to give me the divorce. According to him, he still loved me and didn’t want to lose me.
I changed my cell phone number. I did not want to receive any more calls but, of course, I could not change my mother's phone number or the florist's.
So he kept calling there. However, without any success whatsoever. I placed caller IDs everywhere so as not to answer his call, not even by mistake.
Twice he came to the florist shop trying to talk to me. I regretted not having absolute control over the business property so I would be able to throw him out with pleasure.
Clarissa, my lawyer, informed me we were not giving him anything. For being unfaithful to me, he deserved to stay on the street. Although it was not going to be entirely possible due to Carl, having plenty of money and good lawyers within the family. To be honest, those who have so much power never lose.
I agreed with Clarissa he could have anything he wanted except my business.
When we arrived at the settlement, Carl didn’t refuse to give me half of the house’s sale price despite having destroyed it inside.
“I'll give you my half of the house for your half of the florist shop,” I said earnestly.
We were in the conference room of Clarissa’s law firm.
“That won’t be possible, my dear Jen. If I give you the flower shop, I will never see you again. Besides, business is good and I want to keep it.”
Damn traitor.
I glared at him.
“You should think carefully about the offer Jen is making,” Clarissa said.
“I feel the same way,” said his lawyer.
I raised my eyebrow looking dead into his eyes.
He winked at me. I wanted to jump across the table separating us and scratch his eyes out.
“No,” he said again.
“You're getting more money for the house. Stop being so insolent. You're not going to win me over again Carl that possibility fades every time I remember how I found you and your secretary.”
“I fired her.”
“I don’t care!” I said, raising my voice. “You're a miserable bastard who only played dirty with me. Damn traitor, I hate you with my entire soul!”
I was furious. I began to cry from the anger bottled up inside of me.
Carl was surprised by my words. I had never spoken to him that way.
“Let's wait a few more days and then we'll meet again,” his lawyer said.
I looked at Clarissa.
“Three days,” she said.
We left the office.
The nightmare never seemed to end.
***
The three days went by, one month, three months, and we were still at the same point. Carl wouldn’t give up half the florist for anything in the world. He was convinced that connection would bring us together again.
He was an idiot times two.
After six months, the pain of separation and deception began to wane.
I felt much better. I had a lot of work, which kept me very busy. I understood love did not exist for me.
I began to wonder why my bad experiences in love always ended the same way: in deception.
I questioned myself, thinking, perhaps, I was one of the problems. I did a thorough analysis of my behavior within a relationship.
I still didn’t see where I was failing.
I armed myself with courage and went to my first appointment with Dr. Rose Anderson.
The first time I entered her office, I had an urgent need to run as I sat on her nice beige couch.
I was uncomfortable considering being very aware this stranger would start analyzing me as soon as I began to speak.
“Good morning, Jen,” she greeted me with a beautiful smile, “please make yourself comfortable.
I sat on the sofa.
“Good morning, Dr. Anderson.
“Call me Rose, please.”
She was trying to create a more comfortable environment for me.
She sat down in a brown chair opposite me. Between us, there was a dark wooden table with a tray containing a glass pitcher of water and two glasses.
“Tell me, what brings you here.”
“My two divorces.
She took notes in her notebook with her elegant pen.
She studied me carefully like she was waiting for me to say more.
“I need you to ask me questions,” I said with a smirk.
She smiled back at me sincerely.
“Jen, it’s not an interrogation. I want you to feel comfortable talking to me even if you've never done this before.”
Okay. I had to make an effort.
I recounted for her the details of my first marriage.
When I told her what I had done with the mattress, she had a hint of a smile. I didn’t understand if she thought it was a joke. Maybe I was crazy, or that I had done the right thing.
Well, not the right thing, but rather, the most appropriate thing in the situation and how I felt at the time.
“How did you feel after burning the mattress?”
I snorted.
“Liberated.”
She nodded.
“When you had to pay the fine for the fire, how did you feel?”
“Like an idiot.” I understood I had acted impulsively.
The doctor fixed her eyes on the clock hanging on the wall in front of her. Time was almost up in the therapy session.
“Aren’t you going to tell me what you thought about my story before time runs out?” I asked anxiously.
She shook her head.
“No, Jen, it doesn’t work like that. On your first visits, I will listen to you and analyze your situation. I will take note of the important things you must work on and only then will I give you my opinion.”
“Then I think we'll become friends, Rose,” I smiled wryly. “My whole life is a long tragedy just like in soap operas.”
She released an entertaining guffaw.
“Don’t lose that spirit, Jen. Not even in your worst moments because it is what always helps you out of the “Tragedies” —she enclosed the words with finger quotation marks.
***
The months continued to pass. It was about to be a year since I had decided to divorce Carl.
I still prayed to anyone listening that he would sign the divorce papers and leave me alone.
Consultations with Dr. Rose became more frequent.
I liked going to talk to her. At first, I went only once a week and then I decided it was best to visit twice a week.
However, there were weeks I needed a third - and even a fourth - appointment.
She helped me.
When she began to interact with me in the consultations, she explained she realized I was not a very affectionate woman. She told me due to my father's absence, I had developed an ideal couple I wouldn’t find because there wasn’t a perfect man. She made me see in my first relationship, I had been very engrossed with Aaron and that, is what could have triggered the infidelity. With Carl, she made me see my behavior had been less demanding, due to the bad experience in my first marriage. I had been a little affectionate. Of course, she admitted that didn’t justify their infidelity. She assured me I should not feel guilty. Due to my misfortune, I had run into two men who certainly had problems with monogamy. Since you can’t always detect it at the beginning of a romance. As she said, at first everything is rosy, but when everyday life problems and routine take over, that is when the couple begins to notice all the defects.
It was true. Everything. I had been very absorbed with Aaron and with Carl, quite the opposite. Despite loving him and showing him with deeds, I wasn’t able to talk to him about my feelings. I thought I was giving him control over my life and I was afraid he would hurt me like Aaron had done. Very seldom I said “I love you”. It didn’t seem to affect him, considering I didn’t think it would bring us to the point of divorce later. Of course, it doesn’t matter since he had been cheating on me since who knows when.
On the last visits with Dr. Rose, we talked about my impulsivity problem. She said people with that condition were the worst. They were burdened with things and would not externalized them for fear of seeming weak or childish. We all had an “up to here.” She explained when that type of person reaches the “up to here”; they exploded without stopping to think about the consequences of their actions.
It was very accurate. That was me.
She also noticed I made a great effort to behave serenely when I discovered Carl's deception, but she assured me even though I didn’t erupt into tears and scream-as any other woman would have-I came to the point where I could no longer bear it and I destroyed the whole house.
She recommended I begin to analyze my behavior 24 hours a day.
I did it.
I never realized it, but what she said was true.
Very seldom I expressed how I really felt about something and all because I didn’t want to argue. I just let things go. As well as, naturally avoiding topics I didn’t want to talk about.
I changed that.
It cost me a lot, but I was on the right track.
Although I relapsed greatly the day Carl sent me a diamond bracelet trimmed in white gold to the florist shop.
When I got the box from Tiffany & Co. I knew where the gift came from.
I sighed. I was exhausted with Carl’s story.
I didn’t even deem him a friend anymore. I had been able to overcome the pain and the love I had for him, had definitively died.
All I wanted was for him to sign the damn divorce papers and leave me alone. He no longer came to the florist shop. I hired an assistant: Rick, who was a charmer. A super skillful guy with decoration and flowers. He had exquisite taste. Well, he was gay and my ex-husband was homophobic, so he had not stepped foot in the shop again.
I left my office telling Rick I needed run an errand.
I went to Carl's office. On the way, I was thinking about what I was going to say and how I would behave. That was what Dr. Rose was teaching me to do in the therapy sessions.
I had to act calmly, no matter how upset I was at the moment.
Upon arriving at the office, I noticed they were remodeling. The carpet was covered with thick plastic and some workers were painting the walls in the space where Carl's secretary was.
Surprise!
A year later, I learned the whore I found him with held her same position.
He told me he had fired her.
Damn liar!
My blood boiled.
The secretary saw me and her large green eyes widen. She looked panicked.
“Mr. Carl—” The door was open and I could hear him talking to another man.
I slammed the door open.
He was quite a sight.
I think he even began to sweat.
He half smiled while trying to recover.
The man talking to him stepped aside to let me through.
My face read: I will spit fire if you speak to me!
The inside of Carl's office was going through the same remodel as the rest of the facility.
“Jen,” Carl said, moving closer, “I'm glad you’re here.”
The idiot peeked to see if his stupid little woman was at her desk or not.
“I imagine, she's still sitting there,” I said, staring him in the eye,
The idiot didn’t know how to answer.
What was he going to say? It's not what you think, Jen!
“It's not what you think, honey.”
I had to admit Carl was good at something ... being a perfect jerk.
I became Mr. Hyde.
I saw a hammer resting on a toolbox.
I went straight to it, picking it. I unwrapped the diamond bracelet.
I placed it on Carl's desk-which might be worth as much as the bracelet-and unloaded all my anger by smashing the bracelet and the wood desk.
Carl stood paralyzed.
When I finished unloading my fury, I replaced the hammer, adjusted my suit, and before leaving the office, I noticed a blond haired, blue-eyed, very handsome man, looking at me with a funny smile on his lips.
He wore a construction hard hat.
I assumed he was in charge of the remodeling.
“Thank you so much for allowing me to use your hammer,” I said as calmly as if I had borrowed his pen to take notes.
The man gazed me with amazement and an open smile. I could even swear I saw his eyes flash.
“I'll see you tomorrow at Clarissa's office at eight o'clock. You're going to sign the fucking divorce papers, Carl. I'm tired of this. I do not want to know anything else, nothing more about you. Is it understood?”
Carl didn’t answer.
“Is it understood?”
I asked again a little louder.
Carl nodded.
“I'm not giving you the florist shop.”
He really was a jerk.
“This will end tomorrow, so I don’t have to look at your slut every three months to adjust our business accounts.”
He opened his eyes in surprise.
I didn’t give him time to respond.
I went straight to Rose's office.
***
When I entered the doctor's office, I collapsed.
I explained the whole episode.
“My plan was to go there, give him the bracelet, and yes, maybe yell at him a little, but I didn’t plan to smash the desk or the gift. When I arrived and saw that woman he was unfaithful to me with still working there, even after he told me he fired her, I let my feelings get the better of me.”
Rose was making a note in her notebook.
“I've done very well until now, Rose. Very well,” I said, still upset.
She concentrated on me with an expressionless face.
“I've worked very hard at controlling my impulses lately.”
I had my legs crossed and I kept tapping my foot.
“So much effort for what?” I asked desperately. “So this jerk comes and I lose months of work, in a couple of hours?”
“In five minutes, you mean,” the doctor said seriously.
“Even worse!” I raised my voice a little realizing she was right.
Rose sighed.
“Jen.” She took off her reading glasses. “An impulsive person will always be predisposed to react unexpectedly, quickly and inordinately when a particular situation can be threatening. You have to think before a moment of impulsivity.”
“Sounds great in theory, Rose, the practice is a bit more complex.”
“I already know that. It is why you must take into account everything I say. We are trying to teach you to identify these moments so you can stop and think before acting on impulse. That's why I made you follow a plan of self-control and keep a diary.”
“Theory sounds better than practice,” I said in exasperation. “It's very complicated when it comes to Carl. Very complicated. That man brings out the worst in me.”
Rose shook her head.
“It's not Carl who brings out the worst in you; it's the memory of his deception. Like your first husband. The reaction is to the betrayal, not against the person.”
I understood what she meant.
“Well, thank God I have not reacted to them. Otherwise, I would be sentenced to life in prison.”
“Now you understand the gravity of acting on impulse.”
I sighed.
“I know it's not easy for you to control. I'm sure little by little, you can forget what you felt the moment you saw Carl with the other woman. Once that happens, you really won’t feel anything when you see them. You have followed the self-control program very well. I explained there could be relapses but it wouldn’t mean setbacks. Today's episode, write it down in your self-control diary. Acquaint yourself with every word you write, read it as many times as necessary, relive the moment you saw the woman with whom Carl cheated with. All this will lead you to identify the feeling that makes you act impulsively and once you identify it, you can control it.”
That exercise cost me a couple more months.
And many weekly sessions with Rose.
In the end, I got it. I knew it at the first meeting I had with Carl in our manager's office.
I was kind to him, even though he looked at me seductively. I ignored him as a man, completely. The best part, was when his cell phone rang.
He had accidentally left it on the desk while we signed some of the florist's accounting paperwork. When it started ringing with an incoming call, the picture of his secretary-slash-lover-appeared on the screen as a playboy bunny under the name “Bunny”.
Carl frowned, his hands trembled, and he decided to send the call to voicemail when he realized I had seen it.
I imagine, not only did he pale when he realized the idiocy he had just committed. He had just invited me to lunch five minutes earlier. No, his look of panic also indicated that he was waiting for one of my impulsive reactions.
“I can explain,” he said, his voice shaking.
The accountant observed us cautiously, as if waiting for World War III to begin.
I looked at Carl with a smile and said very calmly:
“You have nothing to explain to me, Carl. It's your life; everyone does with their life what they want.”
He had finished signing the papers indicated by the accountant.
“Thank you for everything, Patrick.” I held out my hand and he his. “We’ll see you next quarter.”
Carl still looked surprised.
“Don’t look so scared, Carl,” I said as I walked toward the office door. “This time, I'm not going to break anything.” I turned around to show him a sincere but devilish smile and then said, “I don’t care about anything about you anymore. I've gotten over it.”
I left like a lady from the office. I was ready to get drunk with my best friend while I told her the great achievement I had accomplished.
Almost a year after the divorce with Carl and when the florist was doing its best, my mother died of respiratory arrest.
It all happened so quickly and so unexpectedly. It took me several months to understand my mother was no longer with me.
Holly didn’t leave my side. She took care of everything and supported me the way only a sister could.
She loved my mother as much as I did. Holly's mother was not a good woman and my friend found her ideal of a mother in mine. I knew Mom also loved Holly.
I missed her a lot. She was an excellent mother and a woman who, despite going through hard times, never surrendered to life or to people. She always came out ahead, accomplishing many things others would never accomplish due to her determination and strength. My mother was unique.
My chest swelled with pride at the thought of her. Whenever we could, Holly and I, remembered every good story about her.
A unique woman who left us beautiful memories and an exemplary courage that encouraged us to follow in her footsteps.
Dr. Rose, helped me a lot then. I felt like life was kicking me and I was starting to get fed up with it. Although I considered myself a strong woman, I could not deny in those moments, I began to feel certain negativity in myself leading me to continue visiting Rose every week.
Over time and after overcoming my mother’s death, I continued with occasional consultations despite having decided to remain alone, away from any commitment or feelings towards any man indefinitely.
Rose said it was not good. I was isolating myself for fear of getting hurt again. I couldn’t close myself off from love.
I felt pretty good alone. I was happy to have decided not to love again, nor to be loved, of course.
I lived a relaxed life. If I wanted to go out for drinks, I would. If I wanted to sleep late, I would. If I didn’t want to wash or cook, I didn’t and the best thing was if I wanted to have sex with someone ... I did and then, we each went our separate ways.
It was a life I did not want to give up. Love? It made me suffer and tied me to a lot of responsibilities and doubts I didn’t want to be tied to.
My crazy nights of drinking became more frequent extending until dawn with the candidate on duty. No breakfast, of course.
During this time, I met Michael, my doctor friend. We met one night when I visited a bar with Rick. That night, I wanted to go out drinking and didn’t want to go alone like I did when Holly couldn’t accompany me. She did with pleasure and Sam didn’t care, but I knew Holly wasn’t comfortable because we were not on the same frequency. I wanted to flirt with men and my friend, didn’t because she was happily married.
So when I invited Rick, he readily agreed. We left for the bar.
“Tell me about your family, Rick,” I said after sipping my glass of wine.
Sigh.
“I'm very lucky, Jen. I have a splendid family. We’re very close. I am the youngest of three brothers. My parents love each other as much as the first day they met and they all accepted me without judging me.”
I smiled.
He was a good boy and he was, because he came from a good family.
“I'm glad to know you're accepted as you are.”
We clinked our glasses.
“Boyfriends?” I asked curiously.
“None worth it so far,” he said, but I heard a trace of sadness in his voice.
“Do you want to find one?”
“Who doesn’t want to find love, Jen?” He said with a smile.
I shrugged my shoulders.
“I don’t.”
Rick huffed.
“You only say that because you haven’t found a man who respects and values you.”
“Those men don’t exist, for me.”
“What a bunch of bull!” He said excitedly. “It exists for everyone. Some take longer than others to find. I think everything comes at the right time.” He lifted the glass to his mouth and said in a low voice, “like the man who will arrive at our table in about two seconds.”
When I turned around, I saw a man smiling at me. He was thin, with black hair and gray eyes. He was dressed in a light blue uniform and a white coat hung over his shoulder.
Rick excused himself by saying he was going to the bathroom, as expected, we did not see him again for the rest of the night. That night, I ended up naked and tangled in the sheets of a hotel room, panting from pleasure.
Thanks to my friend Michael Green, the doctor.
The little, very little I knew of Michael, told me his profession was the only thing he loved in life and did not want a formal relationship with anyone.
Which I fell for hook, line and sinker because I was looking for the same thing.
So after that night, whenever we fancied, we would meet somewhere to eat and then we would release our sexual tension.
We didn’t ask questions, nor did we look for ways to get closer to each other. I didn’t know what hospital he worked in, and he didn’t know where my flower shop was. Our sexual encounters were in a hotel. We didn’t want ties of any kind.
If I wanted to feel in love, I just had to fall in love with the actor of the moment and have a movie romance with him. It was perfect.
Or at least, I wanted to believe it was for the time.