“But I’ll be lonely without you,

and I’ll need your love to see me through.

So please believe me, my heart is in your hands,

and I’ll be missing you.”

~ “Babe” Styx

I couldn’t escape the visual of my mother in bed, after a rough day of chemo, as it had to make her feel defeated. Was there more to know? Did she plan to hide this as much as possible from me, like her own mother did; my grandmother? I didn’t want to go through anything my mother did on my grandmother’s last day. A day, just like all the rest, when my mother found out in a most unexpected fashion, it would be her mother’s last day on earth. How she watched her best friend in life, the one who never let her down, fade into nothingness. I wanted my mother to go peacefully when it was her time to go, with my father and me by her side. A smooth beautiful transition, one that brought us sadness but with very little trauma.

I worried I could lose my mother unexpectedly during a routine visit, and if the slightest possibility existed of that, I wanted to know. The better prepared I could be, the better it would be for her. When I went into the office on this Saturday, the whale that was my personal struggles breached the professional waters, as I fought to purge the image of my mother in her bed and what truth existed beneath. I couldn’t remember the last time I visited the house and only talked to my Dad, an ominous prelude.

That morning, unable to focus at work, I reached out to Anya to see if she could offer me any advice.

ANYA: “I’m sorry babe. I know this is tough on you. Please know that this is not your fault. I wish I could hold u right now. Have a good day too. I will be here. I love you.”

ME: “Thanks Sweetheart. I’ll talk to her about it. I better go babe. Have a nice day. I love you.”

ANYA: “How’s your dad holding up? Wish I could help.”

ME: “I think he’s in denial. I think we both are. Thanks for asking and for being there.”

ANYA: “Ok anytime u need me, I will be here. I’ll be praying for her. I love you.”

It made it easier for me to talk to her about my mother since I revealed she knew Anya and I were dating. I’m sure a big part of its timing was because I didn’t know how much time I had left with my mother, and I wanted her to know my mother liked her while she was still here, not after she passed. I questioned the nature of Anya’s love for me at times, but I made some mistakes too and not free of fault, too. I only wished Anya and my mother could get to know each other because I knew they would get along so well. I’d be second fiddle, her own son, to Anya if my mother got to know the person I fell so in love with. Although Anya told me she would pray for her and I didn’t believe in God, I found it pretty hypocritical of me to be thankful she did, but I was grateful for her sweet gesture.

As the day progressed, I felt better and able to get some important tasks completed. I then texted her to let her know my day got better so she wouldn’t worry. I hesitated now to reach out to her because I feared it might take her away from her kids. I knew she was still unsettled and didn’t want to add another plate to her stack.

ME: “Hi. I just wanted to let you know I’m feeling better now. Thanks for being there. Just needed to get it off my chest so I could focus on the work I need to get done at the office. I hope you’re doing good.”

ANYA: “I’m sure. I’m good now that I know you’re better. I’m so sorry. What you’re dealing with is huge and normal to reflect and feel guilt if not warranted b/c you feel helpless.”

ME: “I’ve been beating myself up a lot over this. It just overcame me unexpectedly and everyone was in the office and I had to find a way to compose myself. I’m sorry to do this to you. I love you.”

ANYA: “Don’t be sorry. I want you to tell me. You’re my best friend. I love you.”

ME: “You’re my best friend too. I just feel responsible for this. All the worrying I’ve put her through over the years I feel has caused this. I love you, too.”

The time I stumbled home drunk, and woke her up at one in the morning, just so she could change my bedsheets not once, but twice, because I couldn’t get my hammered ass out of bed to throw up. The two times I parked crooked in her driveway, after another couple of nights out drinking when I was twenty-one years old, and how it still made her worry each night I went out, regardless of those being the only two times in my life I ever drank and drove. I’d arrive home at three in the morning, and I could see that the light in her room would still be on when I pulled into the driveway. I’d then notice the light in her bedroom window disappear before I got inside the house, because she didn’t want me to feel guilty about having fun. I also couldn’t forget how I caused her greatest grief; my lack of belief in God, the one thing which gave her the most strength. Not only did I feel like a horrible son, but also a horrible human being. Thankfully though, I had Anya there to help me through this maze of self-loathing.

ANYA: “You may have caused her to worry and that’s normal, but in no way did you cause this. No way babe. Trust me. As awesome as you are, sorry you don’t have that kind of power. Every mom worries about the kids from the time they r born. It’s just the way it is. Whether you cause trouble or not, they worry every second.”

ME: “But babe you forgot, I really am that awesome! JK! Thanks for the smile. I really needed that!”

ANYA: “You are but not that!”

ME: “If I’m awesome it must have rubbed off on me from you!”

ANYA: “Muah!”

She was right; the truth was, my mother would have worried even if I left the house just to go to work. Anya’s insight provided me with enough relief to get me through the rest of the day, and I couldn’t thank her enough for it, as the rest of my Saturday workday went much smoother. When I returned home that evening, I decided to stay in and read some of “Breaking Dawn”, the last book in the “Twilight” series. While I read, I found it interesting how the story’s point of view changed from being told through Bella, to her other love interest, Jacob.

ME: “I find it interesting how the author decided to tell the story through Jacob’s point of view as well. I miss u.”

ANYA: “Yes it does. It is interesting thru his eyes but I still don’t love him. I miss u too.”

When Anya revealed to me that she didn’t love Jacob, as silly as it sounded, it meant a lot to me because I remembered when she told me I reminded her of Edward, the character she did love. I needed something positive because this Saturday night paled in comparison to the one we shared a week ago. I then texted her a passage in the book that reminded me of us.

ME: “” They stared into each other’s eyes, but not in a gooey way. It was like they were having a conversation” It reminds me of the many silent conversations we’ve had.”

ANYA: “I agree”

When I read her response, I found it hard to ignore the lack of a period, as it gave me an indication something affected her.

ME: “What page are you on now?”

ANYA: “The same one. I haven’t picked up the book since San Diego.”

Her text revealed what her missing period did--she still felt unsettled after San Diego. I then felt guilty about my emotions, that I let her down in a huge way by not understanding what she faced. I made a promise not to pressure her, and I broke it. In fact, I obliterated it. In order to mend the fence, she sat on, I had to do everything in my power to never pressure her again. In order to accomplish this, I simply had to go to war with my feelings of low self-worth. If I felt more positive about myself, and fell in love with who I was, it could only decrease the need to pressure Anya, and help me better deal with emotions. I had until the end of June, just three months away, to hold off my negative feelings when I felt them. I reasoned if I could just make it until the end of June, I could finally share the news of my promotion with her. I believed this would be the game changer for her. Even though I felt she should leave to be with me anyway, I felt the concern for her kids would be alleviated enough to at least promise to be with me one day. If I could buy a home in her neighborhood, so her kids would be able to stay at their schools and not lose any of their friends, it would alleviate some of the fears she had for them. I felt this would help them not to hate her as the only real difference would be mom and dad weren’t together. I just had to keep this in mind, keep it together for three months, and see if I could mend what I broke in her eyes.

When the next day arrived, I vowed to make amends for my emotional breakdown and to work on getting through the rest of busy season and onward to my promotion to partner. I texted Anya to see what she had on her agenda for the day, and I learned she planned to visit her parents in the late afternoon.

ANYA: “Just a visit and to play with her dumb dog. A white, chubby, dumb but cute bijon fries named Ralph.”

ME: “How old is Ralph?”

ANYA: “3 yrs or 21 yrs in human years.”

I then decided to switch gears so Anya knew what I vowed to do from this point forward in an effort to mend what I had broken.

ME: “For what it’s worth I wish I was hanging with you today. I miss you. That’s what I wish for everyday anyway, so I guess nothing new there.”

ANYA: “Me too babe. I miss u too. I know.”

ME: “I love you so much. Hard to contain all the emotions, but I do try. If I thought you were a “mean” or “hurtful” person, I wouldn’t want to spend the rest of my life with you. It’s something I dream and hope for everyday and if I thought it would kill or hurt people I wouldn’t wish for it so much.”

ANYA: “Baby I hurt everyday cuz I miss u. Idk what to do. My kids.”

ME: “That’s my fault for pressuring you, babe. I am going about this the wrong way. It’s my fault you feel this way.”

ANYA: “I can’t fault you for your desperation. I can’t fault you for wanting to be with me. As much as I hate the pressure, I can’t fault you.”

ME: “I went about it the wrong way. I’m not addressing your fears enough. I think we need to discuss every single one honestly, together. There’s a reason you don’t know and we should explore this together so I fully understand.”

ANYA: “I understand as much as you understand why I’m here.”

ME: “Last Saturday night was the most meaningful night I ever spent or shared with another human being.”

ANYA: “Was it “it” or wasn’t “it”?”

ME: “It wasn’t just “it”. It was everything. You’ve probably experienced nights like that with someone before but I never have. It’s easy to a little crazy when you love someone as much as I love you.”

ANYA: “But we had many great days and nites. Why that nite? Contradictory. Don’t get me wrong, I love every second we spend together whether it be at ur place or coffee or hotel.”

ME: “How could it not be that nite, babe? Let’s consider all the things that led up to SD that we talked about. You having a dream of our wedding. Telling me you would like to get married in Vegas first. Our talks about sexual fantasies. Then in SD, we shared a bottle of wine. There was music and candles. You wore the necklace I got you. You told me you needed love. You even asked me if I wanted to take Katie to the convention, and even though we both knew that was impossible, it’s something we both wish could happen. My feelings are just a whole lot stronger for you now than before, notwithstanding this was only the 2nd time I’ve seen you in almost 6 weeks. The night itself didn’t affect me, but when I didn’t hear from you on St. Patty’s night felt different. After all that led up to SD and after all we shared in SD, I became sensitive to your silence.”

ANYA: Whether it’s an hour, a day, a month or 6 weeks, I still feel the same way about u. My feelings don’t change about u. I love u.”

ME: “My feelings changed only because they’ve grown stronger, babe.”

ANYA: “You know why.”

ME: “I didn’t know why, though. You never mentioned what u were doing that night which was different. U don’t have to, but u always do.”

ANYA: “I was helping my neighbor. I got busy. Didn’t get a chance. I don’t want to go there again. We need to drop it.”

ME: “I believe you. I’m sorry for upsetting you.”

ANYA: “Not upset.”

ME: “I only love you. I only want to be with you.”

ANYA: “I only love you and only want to be with you too.”

After my emotional letdown, I felt vulnerable and even clingy, as I tried to gauge if she still loved me as much as I loved her. I knew if I had another emotional breakdown, I would lose her for good as I tried desperately to resolve all I felt so I could fix what left her unsettled. After a hearty lunch, one which left my stomach full of chicken fried rice and shrimp tempura, I fell asleep for a couple of hours when I got back to my apartment. When I woke up at around four, I texted Anya.

ME: “I hope you’re having a nice time visiting your parents. Thinking of you.”

ANYA: “Thank u! Dumb dog. I mean Ralph is all over me! Always thinking about u. Totally got a lecture from my dad. Look like it’s going to be a long nite!”

ME: “Why did he lecture you? I’m sorry to hear that.”

ANYA: “Not visiting enough. Well I’m just slammed by everyone. Can’t handle it. I have a bone to pick with him too but going to keep it in. Not worth it.”

When Anya informed me she felt “slammed by everyone”, I felt bad about the grief I gave her. I didn’t want to be identified as someone who “slammed” her. I loved her, and thought she wanted to be pulled in my direction. In her dad’s defense, I could understand how he felt that way, but at the same time, I knew how busy Anya was with the kids and could see her side of things as well. Then you throw me into the mix, and where did she find the time?

ME: “Don’t take it personal, babe. They just miss you and I’m sure they love seeing their grandkids. It’s harder at their age to come visit. Of course, I could be generalizing here and don’t know the specifics. I’m sure if you’re upset about something it’s a legitimate argument.”

ANYA: “Just can’t be pulled in one more direction. Surely, he understands how busy I am with the kids. Guess not. Guess he can’t make the drive but can golf everyday!”

ME: “Did u explain that to him, babe? You have soccer games, baseball games, comps, dances, school plays, projects and little time to yourself. You shouldn’t have to feel bad. Maybe that just needs to be communicated to him?”

After I texted this to her, I didn’t hear back as I feared I overstepped my boundaries, so an hour after I sent this text, I sent her another one.

ME: “I’m here for you if you need me babe. I love you.”

ANYA: “Thank u. I love u.”

ME: “I hope you’re ok. I know how that can weight on your mind. Wish I could hold you right now.”

ANYA: “I’m ok babe. Idk what his deal is. He’ll get over it. Thank u. I could use a hug anyway! Ha!”

Her text made me wonder if anyone ever hugged her, if she needed it. I doubt she ever went to Jackson for a hug, as it made me realize my arms were the ones that mattered the most to her. Another good reason to continue to fight for her.

ME: “If things were different, I would just listen to you, for hours even, if u needed me to.”

ANYA: “Thank u babe.”

ME: “I know you’re upset. I’m here if u need me.”

ANYA: “I’m fine. All good. Thank u for ur support.”

I remembered the last time she drove out to her parents’ house in the late afternoon; she came to see me before she did. After I found out about her issues with her father, I wanted to make myself available to her in case she wanted to stop by for a few minutes before she went home.

ME: “I wish you would have stopped by so we could talk. It’s times like this when I want to be with you. I hate to see you tuck it inside.”

ANYA: “I’m fine babe. Just going to take a shower and turn in.”

ME: “I truly love you. I hate to see you upset. I won’t sleep well either when my heart and soul over there is hurting. I’m here babe. Always.”

ANYA: “Thank you. I’m good really. Have a goodnight! Going to read! Ha!”

It broke my heart a bit that she seemed to prefer a book over my arms for a few minutes, but I had to understand how I left her unsettled. How could I just let her stay with Jackson, without a fight, for anyone’s sake though? How could she view me as a direction she didn’t want to be pulled in when she used to struggle with running away from home and to me? How could any of this not put things into proper perspective for her as to why I was in her life? Jackson could not care for Anya emotionally anymore, and if she needed love, how would she get through the rest of her life without that? She couldn’t turn to anyone because if she turned to me, it would be too much truth for her to handle, the only direction she should be pulled in. All I could see is that everyone else pulled her away from me, and that did a number on my psyche. Anya deserved much more in life than to be filled with heartache, anger and resentment. From her parents, to Jackson, to her friends, and to her husband’s ex-mistress at the baseball games, no one seemed to understand her, but me; as I did on a level no one else possibly could, even herself. I never wanted Katie and Andrew to walk in their mother’s room one day just to be greeted by bald head in bed, sickened by Cancer treatments. What made it even worse, is no one else could see this but me, yet I was the one they all viewed as evil.

I felt Anya shut down on me once again, and although I understood it better this time, it still worried me. What would she tell me this time around? Did Jackson talk to her father about “a relationship” she might be having? Once this thought entered my stream of consciousness, I texted her at five in the morning to see how she was holding up as I tried to gauge if she was mad at me as well.

ANYA: “Nope finished off my book club book and read up to page 240 of our book. Hun, I’m fine. Just needed an ear for a bit last nite. I told you we’re good now. Thank u.”

ME: “Ok babe. I was worried about you.”

ANYA: “Why were u up so early? Did I wake u up?”

ME: “You didn’t wake me. My phone is always on silent. Just worried about you.”

ANYA: “Thanks for your concern. Don’t worry I’m ok. Where r u this week?”

ME: “I’m in love with you, babe. It’s natural for me to worry when you’re down. At the office this week.”

It felt good to know she picked our book back up, as it seemed that Jackson didn’t talk with her father. After I sent my last text, I didn’t hear back until two hours later, as I felt a little blown off. It was at that point, I had to know if she was upset with me. At times, it just seemed she pulled away from me when I tried to get close, as she tried to dictate any pressure, she felt from me, but all it did was make me feel insecure.

ANYA: “I know and appreciate that. Thank you. How r u?”

ME: “I’m ok. So, what’s on your mind?”

ANYA: “On my mind? Huh? I’m at dental office with Andrew. What’s on your mind?”

ME: “You just seem upset with me.”

ANYA: “I’m not upset with you.”

ME: “Don’t be mad at me please. I would do anything within reason to be with you. To help you with everything. To put an end to the anger, the resentment, whatever negative feelings you have, forever. I just want to be with you. I just want you to be happy. Don’t be upset with me for that please (if u r).”

ANYA: “Ok please stop telling me I’m upset or mad. I’m fine babe. I’m trying to mend from last week but I can’t if I keep going there. Truly I’m ok. Thx for ur concern.”

I found Anya’s initial “Thanks for your concern” statement to be a little disingenuous; a nice way of telling me to leave her alone. Weak and vulnerable, love shifted to fear to match what unsettled her. In the past, I would’ve heard “I am so in love with you too”, but now it’s “Ok please stop telling me I’m mad”. As unfair as it might have been, after San Diego, I became sensitized to every little thing she did as I tried to gauge if she still truly loved me as my mom’s illness and the stress of busy season all merged as one to create a perfect storm of emotions within. And it all came at a time I desperately needed to hold it all together, as I felt the particle that kept my universe together, was about to give and destroyed all I held dear.

Things felt different between us, an undeniable truth, and when she texted me later that afternoon, I did all I could to change the current narrative as I initiated something for the first time in our relationship.

ANYA: “U ok?”

ME: “I miss u babe.”

ANYA: “I miss u.”

ME: “Would you like to meet for tea today?”

ANYA: “Well I’m afraid you’ll feel worse after.”

ME: “We’d just meet for tea. I need to show you I can be ok babe. So we can begin to mend this.”

ANYA: “But you said that b4 SD. I’m afraid.”

ME: “I promise babe. Just meet me for tea please so I can show you I’m ok. We won’t even go there. I promise.”

ANYA: “What about your work?”

ME: “This job I can’t be chargeable on. It won’t put me over budget so I can get away for a little bit.”

ANYA: “U promise you’ll be ok?”

ME: “I promise. I won’t let u down babe.”

ANYA: “What time?”

ME: “Can you meet me at noon?”

ANYA: “12? Do u want me to meet u at your place since ur working?”

On the same morning, I felt she blew me off, the most unexpected thing occurred, she not only offered to meet me on a moment’s whim, but she blew me away as she offered to meet me at my place. I Truly owed it to her not to screw it up with my emotions.

ME: “Yes, 12. Only if you’re willing.”

ANYA: “Ok I will.”

ME: “Thank you.”

ANYA: “K”

ME: “We’re just going to hang babe. I’m going to change the errors of my ways. I know how much I mean to you and I know how much you love me. I’ve got something to prove to you. All I need is a chance. Thank u for giving it to me. I promise I won’t disappoint you. I have your heart and no one can have what we share no matter where you lay your head at night. Everything will be fine. I promise.”

ANYA: “Ok babe.”

As fear shifted back to love, for both of us, it allowed me to understand her side a little better as she gave me a chance to mend things between us. I feared she didn’t have any intentions to do so, and that led me to question if she truly loved me. To her credit, she didn’t like what she perceived to be “threats”, and there was an issue of trust I needed to rebuild there, but she seemed to also understand her role in their existence. If she gave me the chance, I had to make this up to her. The problem was without the direct experience, it was difficult to determine that it wasn’t the pressure I gave her to be with me that hurt her, but more so, the pressure she felt around the kids to keep them in the dark; to be there for them is where the true pressure lied. Anya spent a lot of time over the last few days on the line with me. Each time I struggled, she responded as my emotions took her away from her kids, something she begged for me not to do in her letter if I couldn’t quit her. The emotional toll my own emotions took on her was something she never shared with me. It left me at times to feel, maybe I should have quit her, but may it’s also what Lance did? Maybe the ability to hang in there is why she viewed me as an amazing man? I wish she had explained to me in detail how this affected her, but even if she did, I think she feared to lose me as much as I feared to lose her. Our reasons for that fear, however, had to coincide. If I could hold off the pressure, until the moratorium on my non-disclosure agreement ended, I felt she would be more understanding when she gained the peace of mind her kids, and even her, would be fine. I felt a promise would shortly follow, and I’d feel more secure in my feelings and emotions, as I still believed, after she gave me the chance to mend what left her unsettled, she only delayed the inevitable at this point after all we’ve shared.

I really needed the break from all the stress of busy season, and to know her and I were good, and back on track. I know I let her down, I gambled and almost lost her, then realized there was no solace in losing her. When I got home from work on my lunch hour, I paced my apartment nervously before she arrived as I talked to myself in front of the mirror so I wouldn’t say the wrong thing. I then went on my computer and began to type in my journal and to check our relationship stats I took, as this would be her fortieth visit to my place and the eightieth time we’ve spent together, and if that wasn’t enough evidence to leave her marriage, I didn’t know what was. This was her first visit to my place since the sixth of March, over two weeks ago, and the first time I’ve seen her since San Diego. As I did a quick prep of my apartments, I then received a text from her.

ANYA: “Almost there.”

And then my favorite text just five minutes later.

ANYA: “Here.”

The first text showed her thoughtfulness, as she knew I only had an hour lunch break, and the second text, confirmed her love for me. Unless she changed plans not to visit, I never wanted her to feel obligated to send me a text that she was “almost there” as I feared she texted and drove. If anything ever happened to her, and she was driving frantically just because I left work on my lunch hour to meet, I would’ve never forgiven myself. She belonged to her kids more than she ever belonged to me regardless of what we shared.

When Anya showed up at my gate, and I saw the necklace against the beauty of her skin as it sparkled in the sunlight, I could do nothing but smile. As I looked in her eyes and as her smile met mine, I knew her visit was a genuine attempt to mend what unsettled her, to not only give me a chance but to also let me know she trusted me; that she understood, maybe not completely but on some level, how I lost it emotionally.

The day brought forth a show of affection from her as if nothing ever happened between us, as Anya smiled and laughed the entire time we spent together. She showed no apprehension as we picked up right where we left off in San Diego. Each time she showed me her thingie and looked up at me with a smile, I couldn’t help but fall more in love with her. After we caught up with each other and reconnected for an hour, she turned to me in bed as we faced each other.

“How do you look so young?” she asked me. “Are you really thirty-eight?”

“How old do you think I look?” I asked.

“About twenty-five.” she said.

“What? Really? Twenty-five?” I said in complete disbelief. “Not thirty-five? Twenty five.”

“Yes, I mean that.” she said.

“You’re not a cougar, are you?” I joked.

“A what?” she said.

“A cougar.” I said. “A cougar would date a twenty-five-year-old.”

“I can’t believe you just called me the “C” word.” she said.

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re the most beautiful cougar on the face of the

planet.” I said as I kissed her pursed lips then laughed. “What’s wrong?”

“I don’t like the “C’ word babe.” she said. “I can’t believe you called me that.”

“Babe!” I said as I tried to apologize for my joke. “I’m obviously not twenty-five, so how could you possibly be a “cougar”? I was just joking babe. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. I thought you knew I was just kidding. You look no less than ten years younger than your age.”

“So…you think C and D cougars too?” she asked me. “Should I tell them?”

“Of course not, babe. Sweetheart, it was a bad joke, I apologize for it.” I said. “I don’t think that way about any of you. What reason would I have to? I was just joking because you said I looked twenty-five which is a joke all its own. I don’t look that young.”

“Yes, you do!” she exclaimed.

“If you say so.” I said as I brought my lips to hers. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“It just surprised me.” she said. “I didn’t know you knew what a cougar was.”

“You didn’t think I knew what a cougar was? Sonomas is pretty much “cougars’ den” for younger guys.” I said. “None of the women that walk in there are cougars in my eyes. I think they are mostly mature women who know what life is all about.”

“I think if I really did tell Carolyn and Deb, they’d be surprised too.” she said. “But I’d never though.”

“I was only kidding, babe.”

“I know you were kidding.”

“Thank you.” I said as it surprised me Anya took it so seriously after I felt she joked with me about my visual age.

I felt bad for the way she felt, even if it was an overreaction, it appeared my “cougar” remark hurt her feelings, and as long as she felt that way, she deserved an apology.

“I bet you were always happy go lucky before you met me.” she said as she came into my arms and kissed my chest as I held her body against mine.

“Is that what you think? That I was “happy go lucky” before I met you?”

“I’ve turned your life upside down. Made you sad.” she explained further.

The potential of where this conversation could head struck fear within me. I couldn’t deny it was true, that she did turn my life upside down. When we first met, I didn’t mind at all because she laid out the terms of our relationship; she would be with me if I swept her off her feet. After I had done so though, and the kids became an issue after the fact, I felt she did indeed turn my life upside down. Why did she bring this up though? Was there a purpose behind it? If I admitted to it, she may try to walk out of here for the last time. This might be the last time I held her in my arms. It was an emotionally loaded question for me as I tried my best to answer it as to preserve our process of mending; a test.

“To say I was “happy go lucky” before I met you would be the most inaccurate statement ever made in human history.” I said as I kissed the top of her head. “As much as I go through emotionally because we can’t be together right now, the truth is you’ve saved my life. I’ve never told anybody this but you, but I was in a dark place, very lonely, sad and depressed before I met you.”

“Really?” she said as she looked up with concern.

“If I share this with you, can you promise me you won’t judge me for it?” I asked. “That this stays between you and I?”

“I promise, babe.” she said softly.

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“Before I started my business career, I used to drive in corporate parts of the city just so I could be around all the office buildings. I’d look up at them and imagine what it would be like to ride the elevator, even fantasize about what floor I’d work on, just dying to work in one after I got my degree.” I said. “Years later, after I turned that dream into a reality, but I started to look at office buildings in a very different way. A way I never could’ve believed before I started working in one.”

“In what way?” she asked.

“I began to wonder what it would be like to jump off of one.” I said.

“Are you serious?” she asked with concern.

“Although I’d never do it, I didn’t think I had a purpose and everything in life was such a struggle. I had expectations for greatness and to be in love and married, this kind of life I envisioned for myself, and I began to fear I’d never come close to it, no matter how hard I worked. The fact it entered my mind though was scary, something I never thought I’d even consider. I used to have a great love for life, I believed every day presented had the possibility for the fantastic, but right before I met you, my life turned cold, empty and dark. I started to ask myself, what would I really be leaving behind if I did jump?” I said. “Of course, I thought about what it would do to my poor mother and never went through with it. I did consider it enough though that I gave up on a jump from an office building and instead put my attention on the bridge by my parents’ house.”

“Which one?” she said. “There’s two of them.”

“The marine green one.” I said.

“The Vincent Thomas Bridge?” she asked.

“That’s the one. I used to drive over it almost every day when I lived with my parents. The sky I’d see each time from the bridge was majestically different from any of those I witnessed before. I started to imagine what the sky would look like from its highest point and how I could get to the very top. If I ever committed suicide, I would do it from that bridge, in the company of a beautiful sky.”

“You wouldn’t kill yourself…right?” she asked. “You would never do something like that. Would you? You’re scaring me.”

“Sweetheart, I know it would hurt a lot of people, especially my family if I ever did such a thing. If I committed suicide, it would be as if I took my own mother, too. I could never put anybody through that.”

“Promise me you never will, babe.” she said. “That would hurt a lot of people.”

“I never will. I promise.” I said as I met her lips. “I only shared this with you because I wanted you to know how much you’ve improved my life. I just wanted you to know how far off you were about me being “happy go lucky” before I met you.”

“Thank you for sharing. By the way…” she said as she ran her fingers through my hair. “I like your hair sort of long.”

“So…I have to check with you first before I cut it now?” I said as her touch relaxed me.

She then laughed as our lips crashed and the “cougar” talk then dissipated into nothingness. I felt bad I even mentioned it as a joke, as the last thing I wanted to do was offend her in anyway. When the time came for her to leave, and my left arm brought her back to me several times before she made her escape, I felt much better about us, a huge relief I needed as it greatly affected me at work and resulted in one too many sleepless nights. My struggle with my relationship with Anya affected me in ways I never prepared for nor realized they truly threatened to ruin me completely as my partnership felt compromised. Without Anya’s love, I felt like I had nothing, but today provided me with the safety that allowed me to get back on track at work, and in life. As contradictive as it seemed, in essence, these two hours I took off were needed as they possibly saved my career with the firm.

When I returned to the office, with a renewed vigor after her visit, Anya texted me.

ANYA: “I haven’t stopped thinking about today. When it’s good it’s really good w/only good feelings! I’ve missed u so much.”

ME: “I haven’t stopped thinking about today too. It should only and always feel this way. I’m sorry I thought you were upset last night. I was worried about you. I just felt bad for you and wanted to be there for you. Thank you for visiting on a moment’s notice. It meant a lot.”

ANYA: “Thank you. I just needed an ear. Believe me I’d tell you if I was upset with my dad.”

After her visit, I vowed to not let her absence affect me as much anymore as I learned I’m more miserable without her. I had to understand with so many balls in the air, I was at her mercy emotionally. I’d lose everything if I didn’t pull it together, and as much as I believed she should leave, I didn’t want her to experience anything I did with her kids around. If I got emotional, it’s going to affect her and then them. The goal was to be with her and I couldn’t put myself in a position to ruin that. I had to feed her good feelings so she felt safe enough to come closer, and as she proved on this day; she wanted the same things I did. She showed me so much love; she wore my necklace and she laughed the entire time as if I never threatened to love her freely or went crazy just a few days ago. Yes, her “what” still hurt, but I couldn’t expect a promise at least until I could tell her about my promotion. Jackson may have shared the same bed with her, but he also funded her. The cold truth was he had to pay for something I received for free. If he wanted to continue that arrangement, then I would continue to reap the benefit from it. Who was I to let it bother me? Her love came at an emotional cost, but it didn’t cost me a dime. Jackson had to deal with both. Taken that into consideration, Anya and me had something really special and she was right, I was blowing it. Destroying it. Shattering it as Anya was hit with the shrapnel of my emotions. I believed in us after San Diego, but I believed in us more after today. We were in the same foxhole; we couldn’t fight with each other if we had a chance to make it. I believed in our love and I had to do a better job of being strong emotionally for her. Anya loved me enough to destroy my low self esteem issues, I had to trust in her love otherwise my sense of low self-worth would not only take her from me, but also my career, I thought about her words, through the texts she sent me, during our last bout.

“You’re not listening.”

“I have no one.”

“I’m ruined too.”

I had to listen to her. I couldn’t leave her alone and in ruins. I had to trust her love for me. I had to fight my mind, one bent on my self-destruction, with my heart. Love and trust had to overcome pain and fear. I just needed consistency from her. A challenge that presented itself as early as the next day as Anya took my thought of suicide admission to heart.

ANYA: “Taking your life is not only a selfish act but a huge sin. We were granted a life that should be lived to the fullest. I’d like to think we both helped eachother.”

ME: “I agree babe. I just didn’t want you to think I was “happy go lucky before we met. Quite the opposite.”

ANYA: “I just can’t help feeling guilt that I’ve ruined you. You would be on your “merry” way if I hadn’t walked up to you. What if we don’t have a happy ending? What if?”

As sweet as Anya’s text was, I couldn’t help to think how I helped her if she stayed in her marriage. She told me it was a sin to not live your life to the fullest, and it sounded as if she feared to take her own advice. Anya’s mixed feelings put my new outlook to the ultimate text as her words sounded more like something she already knew the answer to, and that’s when the doubts would creep in, as my mind began to overwhelm my heart with its most effective weapon against my happiness; my past disappointments. How could we have such a beautiful day together and it led to this kind of exchange between us? If she worried about my suicide, and felt like she ruined me, then I feared she had plans after just being together less than twenty-four hours prior, to give up and stay, no matter how my hard I tried to keep it together. I then sent her two heartfelt texts in response as I fought off another emotional letdown brought on by her sudden mixed feelings.

ME: “There are a lot of “what ifs” in life. What if I get killed today driving into the office? If I had that info and knew, I would call in sick. The fact is we don’t know but I’ll tell you what I do know. You considered us ending up together a “happy ending”. I don’t think you would’ve ever dared to wish, hope and dream of being with me, regardless of the kids, if you truly believed it would be a bad thing.

ME: “The way you’ve loved me is not of this earth. It’s the best, done without restraint, and I feel it was done to be together one day. You might deny that, but I know you wouldn’t love someone like this unless you intended to be with them. Yes, you say you don’t know, but I think it’s just fear talking. People have created a FOG (fear, obligation and guilt) within u that impairs your judgment and because of this FOG, you don’t know. I have my own personal thoughts I won’t get into, but I think when you told Debbie “I love Landyn. I’ll be ok.” when you thought he knew about us and would confront you. I truly believe not only you, but everyone will be ok because the way you’ve loved me has done nothing but show me you believe it too.”

After an hour passed without a response from her, I sent her another text to incorporate the positive feelings I tried to rebuild within, with the end of June in mind.

ME: “Don’t feel guilty babe. You’re putting pressure on yourself. Relax! Let’s see what happens. Let’s start approaching things more positively. Do people get married right away? No, they date for a while. I think our love deserves this kind of thinking.”

ANYA: “Ok. I just don’t know but I don’t want to talk about it. Yes, let’s move on. I do have to be honest and tell you I’m still unsettled from last week.”

I felt discouraged and disheartened by her text, as she gave me no indication when she visited, and after she left my place, that she was still unsettled. I had to give her some time to come around and I had to accept my role in her uneasiness. The end of June was only a little more than three months away and that’s where my focus had to be.

ME: “It’s ok babe. I know I got some work to do. I only want to be with u, u know.”

ANYA: “I know babe. I love you.”

ME: “I love you, too. Yesterday was so much fun.”

ANYA: “Yes it was babe. I’m the happiest when I’m with you in your bed. Safe.”

ME: “Me too. I loved every second. I miss you.”

ANYA: “I miss you too.”

Her mixed feelings at home just never gave me a chance to build positive emotions when she left me after beautiful moments together, and that made it difficult for me to be the man she needed me to be for her. With every text I sent her, I poured myself into each and every one of them, as I began to notice how she never seemed to do the same anymore. Her unsettled feelings unsettled mine as well, as I tried desperately to stay on track and focused at work as all the progress, I thought we made, seemed nullified by her mixed emotions.

At about three that afternoon, she sent me a text that nearly brought me to tears.

ANYA: “It’s a good day for Abalone Cove.”

ME: “Our beach. I think we need to go back again. I have a vacation the last week of April.”

ANYA: “Ok maybe we can work it out! Would love that!”

Her text allowed us to both reminisce about our beach, a romantic thought she inspired. I then tried to take advantage of the opportunity to build some positive energy between us.

ME: “I can’t stop thinking about what u did for me yesterday by coming by on a minute’s notice wearing my necklace. It just made me so happy. It was just really sweet of you. I really miss you. I love you.”

ANYA: “I love my thingie. It’s really dear to me knowing that it’s the first piece of jewelry you bought for a girl.”

ME: “There have been many firsts for me with you. You’re the only girl I ever hope to buy jewelry for.”

ANYA: “I love it.”

Anya’s beautiful text got me through the rest of my workday as the simplest of gestures carried lifesaving power. After Denise left me, I vowed never to allow another woman to gain the upper hand in my future relationships, but with her unsettled feelings and sideways guilt, I gave it away to her without hesitation. Although I felt her guilt, at times at this late in the relationship was the same as telling someone “you’re sorry” after you’ve shot them a few times. Then there was a side to her guilt I valued as well; that she wasn’t thoughtless enough to deny introspection. It also seemed, at certain times, she had selective memory as to what happened over the last nearly sixteen months, as she remembered only those instances that supported her argument, and not the many other times when she had no argument. I also found it a little delusional that she may have believed her marriage remained sacred because of the kids, and that I could not grasp an understanding of. How in her eyes, it was the kids who legitimized her marriage, when a marriage was founded solely on a relationship between two people? I’ve been the best man in a few weddings, and not one time have I heard in the vows any promises made to potential or already existing offspring. Although I was in an extramarital relationship, I was not pro-divorce. I felt two people should work things out, and wasn’t opposed to do it for the sake of the kids. No one wanted to see someone have a divorce, however since I had inside information about this particular union, and saw how it affected not one, but several people’s lives in its duration, I felt this marriage had no place to exist any further. This marriage made a mockery of not only the institution of marriage, but the sanctity of love within it. To fee this great love, a love she inspired to exist, I couldn’t believe nearly two years later, now she felt ruined and turned my life upside down. After I felt so much for her, I had become codependent, like any soulmate would be left to feel. Over the last fifteen months plus I’ve learned two things; Anya could be the most loving woman on the face of the earth or the most unfeeling one, as the one in between no longer existed.

The following morning, Anya told me she planned to blow off work and lay out instead. Her rebellious attitude made me feel safe as I believed I would more than likely see her again sooner than I expected, however later that afternoon, she sent me a text that revealed just the opposite.

ANYA: “I have a lot going on with work. I have testing tomorrow and physical therapy after that. Friday I have an event at Bromo for clients so getting ready for that. Sorry babe. R u terribly disappointed?”

Whenever she questioned if I was disappointed, or if an adverb preceded it, it left me to now question how come she wasn’t disappointed? Shouldn’t she be disappointed too? At any rate. I tried to deny how her seemingly lack of disappointment made me feel because I promised not to pressure or pull her in another direction.

ME: “Of course I am, but I understand. I don’t want you to feel bad. You’re busy babe.”

ANYA: “Can’t help it. U know me! Full of guilt! My middle name! Ha! I miss u.”

My heart saw the genuine sweetness in Anya’s guilt, and even thankful she wasn’t a guiltless monster. My mind saw her guilt in another way I previously mentioned; that it shouldn’t have a place after she allowed and encouraged me to love her. After she told me she would leave Jackson if she fell in love with me. That these feelings of guilt should’ve existed much sooner, and not nearly sixteen months later. Anya’s guilty feelings seemed to deface my heart and mind as I lost focus at work. I tried to submerse myself deeper in it, but I only found my way up again with the case of the bends. To make matters worse, I then received another critical email from Jerry as that caused me even more pressure and distress. When the day ended, I hoped to hear from Anya to help ease the bad day I had, but I never heard from Anya that evening, not even to say goodnight. After I received only three texts from her all day, my mind ambushed my heart as I suddenly felt sick to my stomach and unable to eat dinner.

When the next day arrived, I felt better as it seemed stress and fatigue played a role in my negative emotions as I refused to let her silence get me down with renewed vigor and focus. When I didn’t hear from her at all by three that afternoon however, my mind once again took over my heart as I broke down and texted her.

ME: “How was your physical therapy?”

ANYA: “Sorry was picking up. It was good. She worked it! Little Sore. Missing u.”

It seemed her “missing u” may have been damage control as in the past, Anya would text just to say she was missing me. Regardless I refused to let my disappointment be known as I pretended everything was fine, afraid it only lent to her guilt. At about six that evening, she text me again.

ANYA: “Just dropped off kids at activities. How was your day? Missed u.”

Her “missed u” at the end of this text felt good to read, but it was hard not to notice the wariness in all the texts she sent to me over the last two days as they were all short and to the point.

ME: “I’ve missed u too. My day has been ok. R u ready for your event?”

ANYA: “Long day babe? Yes, pretty ready. What r u up to?”

ME: “Just got off the phone with my mom. She picked up a new wig today, and returned her other one. She really liked the wig she returned but it made her head itch. I guess the inside of this one is less sensitive but she liked the way the other one looked better than this one. It was a tough day for her, and it didn’t sound like she was too enthused about it.”

ANYA: “She is going through a lot. I’m so sorry from the bottom of my heart. I’m glad she got a new wig but she doesn’t have to stay with that one if she doesn’t like it too, right? Will u see her tomorrow babe?”

ME: “I think she can shop around for one she likes better if she doesn’t the way it looks on her. I’m sure good wigs are like habitable planets, they’re out there, you just have to go look for them. Thank you for the kind words babe. I’m going to visit her tomorrow. I’m really trying to be there for her as much as I can but busy season this year has been so brutal. I feel like I’m letting her down, but I can’t spend as much time with her as I’d like to. It’s eating me up inside.”

ANYA: “You’re doing the best you can babe. It’s not your fault.”

ME: “Thank you, Sweetheart.”

ANYA: “Have a goodnight babe. I’m sorry for all the challenges you’re faced with. I love you forever.”

ME: “I love you forever.”

Overall, the day was better as the Anya I knew and loved made an appearance while my strategy to ignore the loneliness seemed to work magic. The next day, Anya stayed in touch with me via various texts she sent me throughout the entirety of the day; a perfect balance of communication.

ANYA: “Thank you! Super busy! Muah!”

To let me know why I hadn’t heard from her that morning.

ANYA: “Hi babe! How was ur day?”

To let me know her day slowed down enough so she could see how my day went.

ANYA: “Good babe! I’m happy! My day is still going. Going to mom’s?”

To let me know she had more things ahead of her to do, but she had me on her mind.

ANYA: “I miss u very much.”

To let me know I was on her mind, as much as she was on mine.

ANYA: “I love you. Say hi to your mom for me!”

To let me know she remembered I was with my mom.

ANYA: “You’re a true angel.”

To let me know what she felt about me after my mom said hello to her.

ANYA: “Almost home. I miss u too babe. Goodnight. I love you.”

To let me know she was on her way home from scary places she went alone to with no help from her insignificant other, all for her kids.

ANYA: “Goodnight babe. Drive carefully.”

To let me know she cared for me, and my heart couldn’t thank her enough for the consistent communication as she gave my mind no recourse to attack it.

When I walked into my mother’s room, as an episode of “Golden Girls” blared from her television, I noticed my mother had her new wig on.

“Hey mom, is that the new wig?”

“Hi Honey. Yeah. This is it.”

“You know, it actually looks nice on you.” I said. “You really think it looks bad?”

“Well, let me put it this way. I’d rather look like Telly Savalas than Lyle Lovett.” she said.

“I think you have a nicer shaped head than he does.” I said. “That wig doesn’t look like Lyle Lovett’s hair.”

“Stop it, Landyn.” she said sharply.

“Wow. You must really hate that wig to not call me Landy.” I said with a smirk as I sat next to her on the bed, put my arm around her to hug her.

“Why are you wearing it then?” I asked.

“Oh, some of the kids from school came by to visit.” she said. “I didn’t want to scare them.”

“Did they mention anything?” I asked.

“They asked me if I did something with my hair.” she said. “Then told me it looked like barbed wire.”

“Oh well. Kids say the darnedest things.”

“They’re honest. That’s why I love them.”

“Well, I don’t think it looks like barbed wire.”

“Thanks, Honey. Who knows, maybe it will grow on me?” she said. “It still doesn’t make me feel normal, though.”

A woman’s hair represented a large part of their beauty, as even for myself, I was greatly attracted to women with gorgeous hair, preferably long and dark. Her mental battle put things in perspective for me as over the last sixty years, my mother lost her front teeth, a breast, and now her hair yet I never lost such a thing in life and I felt as low as she did. My mother always built me up, and each time I’d scoff at it since mothers were biased anyway. She could’ve told me I’m handsome ten times a day, and she could never sell me on it, but if Anya told me I was handsome… I bought it hook, line and sinker. Another reason why Anya meant so much to me, and why her love had to be real. Why I fought for her happiness as much as I fought for my own. For me to lose Anya, I’d indefinitely lose me. I was honest with my mother about the way her hair looked, but the roles were reversed now, as the opinion of eight-year olds held more weight with her. I then tried to change the subject in an effort to take her mind off her struggle.

“Hey, you’re watching “Golden Girls”. I said. “Oh, there’s Blanche. Is she still whoring around?”

“Landy! How dare you say such a thing about Blanche!” she said. “And yes, she is.”

“Oh wow. Bea Arthur is dating?” I asked.

“Yes, she’s going out with him. She likes him.”

“Yeah, but is she going to tell him?”

“What? That she likes him? I don’t…”

“No, is she going to tell him that’s she’s really a man? A transsexual?”

“Landy!”

“You’re right, I’m sorry. Her date has to know just by the way she’s built.”

“Landy, stop it! Bea Arthur is not a man.”

“My God, is that supposed to be Bea Arthur’s mother?”

“That’s Sophia and she’s Dorothy’s mother on the show.” she corrected.

“Who plays Sophia?”

“Estelle Getty.”

“She Estelle alive? She looks like a corpse. She must be forty years older than the Golden Girls are!”

“Landy, don’t you dare talk about Sophia like that! She’s younger than Bea Arthur!”

“You mean Dorothy.” I corrected. “It’s Dorothy for crying out loud.”

“You know who I’m talking about!” she said as she threw her slipper at me.

I threw the slipper back at her and completely missed. She then grabbed it and hit me in the head this time.

“Alright! I’m sorry! Sorry if I said anything that offended any of the Golden Girls!” I said.

“You better watch yourself, Landy. This is one of my favorite shows!” she said. “That’s all you do when you come over here is make fun of all the shows I like!”

“All the shows you like are incredibly comical.” I said. “You can’t blame me. I mean anyone who watches “Days of Our Lives” every single day deserves it don’t you think?”

“I’m going to come over there and stick this slipper down your throat if you don’t watch it!”

My mother never cared for my commentary on the shows she enjoyed after I used to joke around about “Days of Our Lives”.

“Not my fault Days of our Lives “jumped the shark” over twenty years ago.”

“What does “jump the shark” mean?” she asked with a confused look.

“The term is from Happy Days, when Fonzi ski jumped over a shark.” I said. “The term is used to describe when a show has run out of good ideas. When the show is on its last leg.”

“Oh, I see.” she said. “Yeah, you’re right, but I still love it.”

“I’m just trying to keep you entertained.”

“Ha…Ha. Very funny.” she said. “How dare you come over just to make fun of my shows!”

“You’re right. Mission accomplished. Gotta run! See ya!” I said as I rose from the pink recliner.

“Landy!” she said. “You better not leave! There’s another Golden Girls episode coming on after this one.”

“I guess I’ll stick around for another episode. Maybe Bea Arthur will finally come clean about her gender.”

“Landy! I told you Dorothy is a woman!”

“I think you should be the President of Bea Arthur’s fan club.” I said.

“Just shut up please and watch it.” she said as she removed her wig to feel more comfortable.

“Hey mom, I wanted you to know I revealed to Anya that I told you about us, and her. I said.

“You did?” she asked.

“Yep.”

“Can I say hi to her now?” she asked.

“Yes, in fact, she wanted me to say hi to you.”

“Oh, tell her I said hi! Very sweet of her! Does she know about my Cancer?”

“I told her about that too.” I said. “She said she wishes she could be there for you.”

“She really said that?” my mother asked wide eyed.

“Can you understand why I love her so much? Why I decided to trust her in this situation?” I said. “Trust me, I’ve been out there for a long time, there aren’t too many Anya’s in the world.”

“That’s easy to see.” she said. “I’m touched. I hope to meet her one day.”

“Me too.” I said. “I just have to do a better job of keeping my emotions in check.”

“Be careful, because you’re unique, Landyn.” she said.

“What do you mean I’m “unique”?” I asked.

“Well, she’s probably not used to having a man love her as much as you do.” she said. “You’re unique because most men aren’t brave enough to wear their heart on their sleeve the way you do.”

“Anya has accepted my love for her from day one. She made me realize why I went through all I did, and why things never worked out with the other women. Remember all the times you told me things happen for a reason?” I said. “Well, Anya was the reason why nothing worked out with the others. The universe works in amazing ways, and all along, through all those heartaches, it was telling me all along to save my love for her. I just didn’t know exactly who until she approached me nearly two years ago. Now, I’ll always know it’s her…that she’s my soulmate.”

My mother acknowledged all I felt, but she also knew a mother’s sacrifice, and why it wasn’t easy for Anya. Although I disagreed with Anya’s choice if she stayed, for various reasons I kept between her and I, I wanted my mother to be supportive of Anya when I struggled to be because it kept the purity of a mother’s perspective intact. As much as a mother’s “sacrifice” made no sense to me in this situation, I wanted Anya and my own mother to share that as it could only strengthen the bond together if they did meet.

After I begrudgingly watched another episode of the “Golden Girls”, my mother even allowed me to have five Vicodin for the road. As the stress piled up, I felt a temporary need for them to get me through the workday, especially the Saturdays I hated to be there in the office. I had to make sure I kept it together so Anya could continue to mend, and the Vicodin helped to alleviate my stress and fatigue to such a point, I enjoyed them both.

The next day, a Saturday, Anya and I exchanged thirteen texts throughout the day to let each other know how much we missed each other. When Sunday fell upon us however, I didn’t hear from Anya until around four hours past noon. To get my mind off my phone’s silence, I found myself at the mall’s See’s Candies store as I suddenly craved a box of their assorted chocolates when I received her message.

ANYA: “I love See’s! Nuts and chews!”

ME: “I love Nuts and chews, too! I think my arteries are clogged already and I haven’t opened up the box yet! What r u up to?”

ANYA: “Haha! Just got home from the store too! Getting ready to make dinner. Ready for tom?”

ME: “I sure hope I am. Going to be a stressful week. Are you doing anything special tonight?”

ANYA: “No just hanging with the kids. U?”

ME: “Oh no, just the usual. I may do some reading. I guess I’ll have to read “Breaking Dawn” alone now since you haven’t picked up the book since San Diego!”

ANYA: “Ha! Don’t be disappointed darling. I fully intend to finish the book. It’s not easy when you have kids. You’re on the clock 24/7. I try plus I had to finish book club.”

Although I enjoyed reading the “Twilight” series books, I only read so we could do something together. I would’ve never read them on my own. We couldn’t go hiking. We couldn’t go on a weekend getaway. We could never go out to dinner together, but we could read a book together. In essence, form our own book club. I knew that before San Diego, and even before Katie’s letter, she read it without regards to his schedule with the kids. It led me to believe wither she now fought back her feelings for me or she tried to stave off. Or maybe they diminished in some way, after my emotional letdown. As silly as it sounded, because she really was busy with her kids, it affected me since I knew it never stopped her from reading before our night together in San Diego.

ME: “I see.”

ANYA: “R u mad at me?”

ME: “No way! I’m sorry but I miss you. I just miss you. That’s all.”

ANYA: “That’s all? That’s a lot! I miss u tremendously!”

Mad; no. Disheartened; yes. It was nice to hear she missed me tremendously as I had to understand she remained unsettled, and respect her right to be. I knew I let her down with my uncertain mind, but she even admitted as much as she hated the pressure, she couldn’t fault me. At a time I struggled with my mother’s illness, on top of the fatigue and stress at work, I needed her more than ever in every aspect. I need to know if her love was the kind of love that knew it conquered all. The kind of love that knew with love, everything and anything was possible. That she knew this love was that once in a lifetime you never let go of or threaten to throw away. Each time we struggled, each time she became unsettled, she always came through eventually. I had to keep that in mind when I struggled to believe she wouldn’t risk losing it.

Later that evening, after she made dinner, I sent her a text. She let me know she was in bed with a bowl of ice cream. A place that never gave me good feelings.

ME: “Are you in your fuzzies?”

ANYA: “Haha yes in my fuzzies. Still a good visual?”

ME: “You’re always a good visual babe.”

ANYA: “Thx! U love me in my fuzzies!”

ME: “Of course I do! I love you in everything…and nothing! Ha!”

ANYA: “Mmmmm…”

ME: “You can pull anything off and your beauty remains intact in my eyes.”

ANYA: “Thank you babe. You’re so sweet.”

ME: “Honey, it’s only the truth. You’re a masterpiece to me. The universe’s magnum opus.”

ANYA: “You’re always complimentary. I still blush. I love you.”

ME: “You’ll always be flushed in the face with me, babe. I love you too.”

ANYA: “I’m still curious about fone sex. Do you think you could do it with me or would that be too weird?”

ME: “Are you sure you’ve got enough minutes? We might be on the phone for a while! I ask a lot of questions.”

ANYA: “Haha! I’d tell u anything u want to know!”

ME: “Just so you know it’s been a looong time since I had phone sex. I’m a little rusty.”

ANYA: “But I’m counting on you to guide me!”

ME: “Well, you already know what I want to do with you and you told me it’s your favorite.”

ANYA: “It is and I’ve fantasized u doing it to me over and over.”

ME: “When u told me that, I must admit I was so surprised! I must fulfill that fantasy! Kill two birds with one phone…I mean stone.”

ANYA: “Now I can’t stop thinking about what you want to do to me. Getting turned on and home alone for a bit. Touching myself. I think I’m going to play.”

ME: “I must too then.”

ANYA: “Yes u must! Totally turned on!””

At first, the idea turned me off because it felt like a demotion. If all she needed was phone sex, what incentive did she have to visit me again? The man who cheated on her several times was worthy of her physical presence, and the man who truly loved her, was only good enough to be with via the wire? Although I struggled with her belonging to a man who cheated on her several times, phone sex helped me with those feelings after we delved in a fantasy world for the next twenty minutes. After a few minutes of silence between us as we finished off our fantasy love making session, an act we had to do on our own, Anya broke the silence.

ANYA: “OMG! That was totally awesome! Thx for the tease! I guess that was text sex!”

ME: “I’m dying to find out when the best time is to have phone sex w/u with your busy schedule.”

ANYA: “Maybe lunch time when you’re home.”

ME: “Ok, babe. I’ll keep that in mind.”

ANYA: “Kids r back. I better go! Goodnight babe! Thx for that! I love u!”

ME: “Thank u! Love you too! Goodnight!”

Although it felt good to know I knew the person on the other line intimately, and the text sex was fun, I felt a little used and abandoned. When she told me she wanted to have phone sex on my lunch breaks, I feared they would soon be substituted for the real thing. It seemed she tried to control the emotional aspect of the relationship, by removing the physical form of it. I wanted to have phone sex with her, but I needed reality, and this only would promote more fantasies. I also didn’t want our love to morph into lust, and this is something I did in the past with women I didn’t really know, or trust. This was an extension of the trust issues I had with Anya. That I was good enough to have fun with, just not good enough to be with. All I felt for Anya was real, and our relationship, whether she wanted to face it or not, was real too. Phone sex was for people who couldn’t be together, or at least knew they eventually would be such as a business trip, or for those people who just wanted some fun in their lives with no commitment. Don’t get me wrong, the text sex was great, and phone sex would be even better. But I’ve experienced the best with her already so this was hard to accept because it felt like a punishment, a demotion as feared ruled its existence, and not really the love we had for each other.

The next day, the thirtieth day in March, we reached the sixteenth month point of our relationship. When I came into the office that morning, the senior auditor on my client engagement in Hesperia had gotten sick and would be out the rest of the week. I texted Anya to make her aware of the sudden change in my schedule.

ME: “Good morning! I’ll be in Hesperia all week now believe it or not! Leaving now. How r u?”

ANYA: “Good morning! Just dealing with Katie. She’s home sick. Have a nice day in Hesperia! Last nite was fun! I love you! Muah!”

Although I dreaded the one-and-a-half-hour ride into Hesperia the rest of the week, Anya’s text inspired me to make the best of it. When I arrived at the client’s offices, they set me up in the Grounds Maintenance Manager’s office, the only space they had available during the week for me to work in. As I set my computer up on what looked like a picnic table, I knew my impromptu work environment would only make my week even more dreadful. Anya stayed in touch via texts throughout the morning and early afternoon, as they helped get me through the day. Even though I was out there by myself, the client’s maintenance engineer, who walked in and out from time to time, kept me entertained. He went by the name of Fitch, and was short but stout, with medium length long curly greasy dark hair. He wore a shirt with no sleeves as he bared hairy shoulders with several tattoos most bikers seemed to wear. The prior year, Fitch promised me that he would play the harmonica for us, but since I never came back out to the job until this day, it never happened. When he saw me, I doubt he even remembered.

“You back?” he asked.

“Yep, how are you Fitch?”

“Doing goooood! Getting laid.” he said. “It’s all good! How you been?”

“I’ve been good too!”

“You getting laid these days too?”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Fitch.”

“Oh I get it, you’re the gentleman type, but I know you be gettin’ some from someone.”

“That’s fair to say.” I said. “I thought you were going to quit?”

“Aw nah, I stuck around. They can’t get rid of me. This place would be fucked.”

“I know you do a lot around here for sure, Fitch.” I said. “I’ve seen it.”

“Hey, that reminds me, I promised to play for you.”

“Oh Fitch, no worries man. I know you got a lot of work to do.”

“No really, I made a promise and I wanted to show you my talent.” he said as he pulled a harmonica out of his shirt pocket. “I promised you a show.”

One look at Fitch, and all I could expect was the worst. A total shit show. I didn’t want him to play at all because I didn’t want to pretend he was great or any good. I wasn’t the type of audience he needed to play I front of, as I had as much appreciation for the harmonica as I did the tuba.

“I don’t want you to get in trouble.” I said. “I’d feel bad Fitch if your boss walked in here.”

“Trouble is what I do best, baby!” he said as he put the harmonica to his mouth and belted out his vocals.

As I watched him sing and play the harmonica, I quickly learned the most talented people are the one you least expect to be. Fitch poured his heart, his soul, his entire being into his own style of music as it blew me away and took me to a place, I never thought I’d appreciate. He wasn’t just good. He was that good. I sat there in stunned silence and when he finished I stood up in applause and thanked him.

“Okay, Fitch. That was awesome. That was so bad ass. I’d love to come catch a show sometime.”

“Oh man, I just do this for fun, brother!” I said. “I love music! Music is my life!”

“I feel like I owe you money or something.” I said. “That was phenomenal. Wow. Just wow.”

It was the most phenomenal performance by the unlikeliest of all people. I needed to see Fitch’s love for music as I saw a great passion breathe inside of him and gave him so much life. I wasn’t even someone he loved or truly inspired him, yet he performed as if I was just that as his love for his talent was enough. I watched him in pure joy and felt, this is how I felt whenever Anya and I were together, this great love for life. He played like he had the greatest thing in life around him every second. The man was extremely talented and gifted musically and it broke my heart I couldn’t be that kind of man for Anya when we were apart. I couldn’t take the love I felt in my heart for her and have it flow through me like his harmonica when she needed me too. Fitch shared with me some of his sexual conquests, and I always wondered if he was bullshitting me because he didn’t have the appearance of a man who had such a bevy of women at his disposal, but I now understood how it was all true. In my mind, he went from just some random biker in the middle of the desert to its most precious jewel as I hoped to find the Fitch in me to make Anya happy one day.

When my work day ended, I texted Anya to let her know how it went.

ME: “Thought about you all day. I miss you babe.”

ANYA: “I thought about last nite all day! I miss you too.”

For the rest of that evening I never heard from her and even until the next day, I didn’t hear from her until six that evening, but when I finally did, I forgot how sad the silence made me before I heard from her.

ANYA: “Wore my thingie today!”

At those times when I thought she was too unsettled to believe in our love; I only came to learn she wore my necklace. After a long day of mental anguish, it just meant the world to me.

ME: “Very sweet babe. I was having a sad day but you just turned it into a happy one! How is Katie feeling?”

ANYA: “Awww babe, u know I love my thingie. She’s a little better. I took her out to lunch today and it was nice to c her out of the house. I miss u, I love u.”

She sent me only eleven texts on the last day of March, but they had the power of a hundred texts. With Katie sick, I couldn’t let her silence affect me, but I couldn’t help the dark loneliness I felt at these times. The next day, the first day in April, I wondered if silence followed by more missing would prevail. When I didn’t hear from her that morning, I texted to let her know I missed her.

ANYA: “I miss u too babe.”

ME: “I’m so sorry Katie is sick. I know that puts a tremendous strain on you. You have to take care of yourself too. I wish I could help.”

ANYA: “I’m ok thanks. Ur sweet for saying that.”

ME: “That text you sent telling me u wore my thingie yesterday was really sweet. I missed you all day yesterday and that text turned my day completely around.”

ANYA: “I love my thingie!”

ME: “I love you.”

ANYA: “I love you.”

ME: “Well, so much for our phone sex rendezvous this week!”

ANYA: “Ha! Yea, a sick kid at home definitely a buzz kill!”

Our good fun text exchange helped to get me through another fifteen-hour day at work. When the sun came down on another workday and after I arrived home to unwind at about eight that evening, Anya sent me a text.

ANYA: “Just got home from the game. Just so you know the symposium you asked about is on April 8th. Going to bed now. Beat, Goodnight babe.”

ME: “Thanks for letting me know babe. Sweet dreams. Goodnight.”

I appreciated the information about the symposium but I couldn’t believe it was only a week away. I also began to take notice of a significant shift; Anya never talked to me about her complaints about Jackson anymore, not even a mention of the woman at the game. This change in her behavior only created another wall between us, in a relationship tainted with barriers. I felt she constructed this wall far too late, as she passed unfair passing judgment upon me. In a situation where I was solely her confidant, and not her lover, I could understand the shift, but she seemed to forget it was the pain Jackson brought her is what allowed me to be here. As the only man who truly cared about her. As the only one who fought for her happiness, and the only man who truly loved her, I couldn’t agree with her decision as it seemed she wanted to pull away. As much as it bothered me, I tried to put it out of my mind as I reasoned my low self-esteem possibly made it seem worse than it was. I believed if she absorbed herself in these games, and every minute felt like hours, she’d come to realize her marriage was not worth it. How this marriage was like a virus that spread to others.

Although I knew the symposium was next week, I didn’t know if she planned to be there and how I would reveal how I knew her husband on an accidental yet personal level. But I also reasoned, why should guilt fill me when she hid who Jackson Caiaphas was and what he stood for from me? These were the real reasons behind why she remained with him, and had very little, if nothing at all, to do with her kids being “baggage”. A luxury Lance had; I never did. Anya had experience with this scenario, and took advantage of my ignorance as she reasoned, just like she would with her own children, what they didn’t know could never hurt them, At times, this deception made me want to blow the doors wide open, and why at those times, I “threatened” to love her freely, with the belief if she truly loved me, she surely would follow. I came to believe over time, Lance did not leave Anya because she had kids. I was certain he did leave her because she had kids, but only because Anya pulled the “mothers make sacrifices” card, the same one she eventually played with me. He left her because she asked him to, not because he wanted to. She thought the same would work here, but she never factored in that I truly loved her and I refused to go quietly into that good night. I not only shared much more with her than he did, but also knew much less. I knew her on a level he didn’t, but he knew her world on a level I never did. What she hid from me led me to consider the engagement she broke off to someone when Jackson suddenly reappeared in her life, and even conjured up questions, when she revealed at “our beach” a man who “stalked” her before she got married. As she pulled a part of her away from me, I began to wonder if these were all victims of her love and if she had already made up her mind to make me her fourth.

I loved Anya dearly. She knew me better than any woman before her, but I began to question her integrity when I sensed she pulled herself away. That the necklace and phone sex requests were made because she knew of a strategy, she made me unaware of. She loved me without restraint yet built barriers around my love for her that created an equity in our relationship. That was fine for someone who wasn’t in love, or if I was just a confidant, but she allowed me to be such a huge part of her life, I wanted the world to know about us. She couldn’t tell a lover horrific things about the man she married, and not allow him to save her. I felt if this is what she truly planned; it was akin to a crime. If this was indeed true, I wanted the world to know about me because if I suffered the same fate as the others before me, while Jackson remained exonerated because of his money, how many more would fall down the same path? Did Jackson and Anya have an agreement in place I was unaware of? Did she in some way, already conspire against me with the man whose abusive actions she reeled me in with? Did she realize people lost their lives over such circumstances? That people killed others over the heightened emotions these relationships brought forth? There seemed to be a missing piece here, and I needed to find it to complete her puzzle. To understand the true big picture, one that appeared to be much larger than me. Why did she love me so much? A regular guy, when she believed, even after the trauma she experienced with her douchebag husband, that she could have any man she wanted? Why? Was I the only one willing to be here? Was I the only one willing to trust her with everything she told me? Was I the only man she could trust with everything? Was I the last man on earth who believed true love still existed?

I breathed her day in and day out, but her mixed feelings made me lose faith in her love for me, or at least what “love” should mean and stand for. I know she loved me. There was no doubt about that, but I seemed to learn on the fly that love came in more than one form, but which one of these forms of love were true love? Did it only feel like “true love” to her because the relationship existed on her terms and conditions alone? All I knew was this; she now made me afraid to find out and afraid not to trust what she told me that led me here.

Anya’s refusal to talk to me about Jackson’s ex-mistress at the games now led me to wonder what bad things this woman could possibly say about her. I knew she didn’t want to talk about it, and it was her right, but why not? Did she still have feelings for Jackson and sharing her anger would give that away? Or did she do it to appease her kids, and to avoid another instance of a threat of divorce in their presence? Her silence created questions in my mind though, as I referred back to when she told me “things better left unsaid” when I asked about the sex she engaged with her husband in, as this only created more questions than answers. What was better left unsaid? Shouldn’t I be made aware if feelings still existed for him and was the reason she shared the same bed with him? Was his money more than enough to cover the cost of any lost self-respect? I had to, somehow, ignore these thoughts to retain my sanity at a time I needed every single bit of it. I had to give her the chance to prove me wrong until the end of June. If the promotion didn’t matter, then I had my answer to her love. Since I never experienced emotions on this level, I just didn’t know how I’d respond if I learned she misled me with no real intention to be with me, used only to fill a void in a pathetic marriage that should’ve never existed.

With so much on my burdened mind, I decided to send her a text before I went to bed, to gauge her feelings for me.

ME: “Hi babe. Just thinking of you. It breaks my heart the things you go through. You’re such a wonderful person. If I only knew you as a confidant and wasn’t in love with you, I would want the same thing for you. Anyway, I just wanted you to know I’m thinking of you and I love you very much for everything you are. I’m proud to say I love you and I’m proud to be in love with you.”

All I could do was sit on the hope she’d meet me there in the morning, as I waited torn between her love for me and the defense of my heart.