“My soul grows weaker.

He knows and he waits.

He watches over me.

Standing at the infernal gates.”

~

“In The Presence of Enemies ~Part II” Dream Theater

Not only did I expect a response from Anya the following morning, I also expected her to “meet me” there, to see if she was as proud of our love as I was. If she couldn’t do that much, she couldn’t have believed in it as much as I did, or at all. Early the next morning, I received my answer.

ANYA: “Good morning babe. How r u? U know what I could use tom? I could use a long hug! How about you? I love you.”

Instead of a prideful fastball, she surprised me with a knuckle curve when she told me, in her own special way, she wanted to see me the following day, something I could do nothing but appreciate.

ME: “Good morning! I’m good! You might need to call for the jaws of life to escape my hug tomorrow! Can’t wait to see you babe. I love you.”

ANYA: “Haha! Maybe we should set the alarm and just close our eyes. Just want to hold u and melt away.”

            Anya’s sweet and unexpected texts left me to feel like a bona fide jackass as it left me to question my own sanity. Anya showed me she wanted the real thing over phone sex just as badly as I did, just her sweet way of staying connected to me until her kids could no longer dictate her movement.  Her show of love also left me to consider a possible need for psychological counseling. How could I question her love for me in any way? A woman who didn’t love me would never make plans to fall asleep in my arms and melt away. To imagine her in someone else’s arms just drove me crazy enough to fill me with a fear that rivaled an act of death-defying proportions. I knew one thing was certain, I was a mental mess at a time I needed a strong mind in every facet of my life. I could take not being loved, but I could never accept being used. If I couldn’t distinguish between the two, and it affected her life when I could be wrong, maybe I had to consider a psychologist to determine my thought process? How could I be so off about her love and intentions?

As I spent another day in Hesperia, Clyde called to tell me what I had already learned; the symposium hosted by Jackson Caiaphas would be next week. He then stressed the importance of networking with everyone at the event, especially Jackson, as I agreed to do so even as trepidation consumed me.

            “Did you know he’s an acting commissioner for the California State Assembly?” Clyde asked.

            “I didn’t know that.” I said.

 “Oddly enough I didn’t either until this morning.” he said. “So, there will be quite a contingent there.”

             “What does he do in that capacity?” I asked.

            “He has the ability to hear cases and new legislation.” he said. “He seems to have built significant relationships with city attorneys, city prosecutors, and even judges. There will be other officials from government there, possibly even senators. Most of them are business owners as well. Good people for us to acquaint ourselves with.”

            “I see.” I said. “But how did he get to know these people well enough to become a commissioner for the state assembly?”

            “I imagine he rented spaces to them.” Clyde informed me. “Some may have been tenants in one of his many office buildings.”

             “Sorry, I’m a little green in the real estate audit arena.” I covered. “I’m sure his rent roll reports would reveal that info if we audited him, I imagine.”

            “Did we ever give you any real estate clients, Landyn?” he asked.

            “Nope, just mostly mortgage banking clients.” I said.

            “How are they looking this year?”

            “Last year wasn’t very kind to them.” I said. “A lot of loan receivable write-offs.”

            “I’m afraid this recession could be nasty.” Clyde forewarned. “Really nasty.”

            “It doesn’t seem the mortgage bankers are prepared for it. Even with a record breaking market and PE ratios through the roof.” I said. “They just kept loaning money. Loaning to anyone thinking the market had no reason to crash.” 

            “Be a shame if we lost clients due to bankruptcy.” he said. “Please be sure to propose a going concern notes disclosure in the financials if you see a significant amount of loan receivable write-offs. We need to protect ourselves here.”

            “I agree. I’ll be sure to do that.” I said.

            “Oh, did you get things straightened out with Jerry?”

            “I did. In fact, I drafted financials for his two clients, but I’m still waiting for him to review it.”

            “Thanks for letting me know.” he said. “I’ll go curse him out right now about it.”

            Clyde then winked at me as a smile broke upon my face. I loved working for Clyde. In every situation, he always backed me and I appreciated him for his support. It’s why I felt so strongly that if he were to learn of Jackson’s improprieties and my relationship with his wife, that he would consider my side of things enough to understand. I believed any decent human being, who knew of Jackson’s transgressions, that he would have very little power left to control and influence them, and it’s why I believed he could never destroy my career. The “truth” was the power I had over Jackson, and I couldn’t fathom he wanted any piece of it. I wasn’t out to smear Jackson, or threaten to ruin his career and all his hard work as it would affect both Katie and Andrew if I ever did. I only planned to use the truth to defend myself, if I ever needed to do so. All I wanted to do was make things right for his wife, the love of my life. As much as I disliked Jackson as her husband, and even as a human being, I wasn’t out to destroy the man’s career or to take what he’s built. More than anything, I especially didn’t want to make him look like a bad father. I actually hoped to get along with him and work with him so the kids would be less affected. I never asked to be in his life in the capacity I was. In fact, I never even sought it out. The universe carved me out of nothing into his existence, the night Anya approached me. As much as I felt he deserved to be “outted”, for all the things he put Anya through while she carried his child and the lack of remorse he had after Andrew’s premature birth that he caused, I’d never say a single bad thing about him to Katie and Andrew, even if they prodded me to. I only wanted to supplement him, not supplant him as their father. I’m sure they looked up to their Dad as their hero and loved him; I didn’t want to change that. Yes, there were some things he fell short as a father, but all parents fell short somewhere and there were things he did better than most parents. You take the good with the bad, and no one is perfect, but he failed at his most important duty; to be a good husband. He emotionally abused and grossly disrespected a woman I would have died for without a moment’s hesitation. Despite the vows he made on his wedding day, he failed to honor her and instead shamed her. If I had to defend myself, to him, or even God one day, I felt the evidence was overwhelmingly on my side. I knew from day one there could be consequences for my decision to love Anya, but I was ready to face them all from Day one. I’ve read stories in the newspapers about how these could end, and even if I had to stare down the barrel of a gun, I prepared myself for the consequence for the inability of others who were unable to see the sun behind the dawn. I only hoped to do it in a diplomatic and dignified way, but at this point, I had to be ready for anything.

            At about five that evening, as I sat in traffic on my way home from Hesperia, Anya texted me a breaking news event.    

ANYA: “Did you know Sonoma’s is no longer? Was sold.”

ME: “No way! Wow! How did that happen? Do you have any details?”

ANYA: “Was sold to the group that owns “Piranhaz”.”

ME: “Sounds like they are going for a younger clientele, the college crowd.”

ANYA: “That’s what it sounds like to me.”

ME: “Oh well, I don’t think Mitch will miss a beat then. What r u up to?”

 ANYA: “Ha! Special Ed will probably feel more at home now. Home with Andrew. Making him bland dinner cuz he doesn’t feel good. Going to pick up Katie soon. Spent the week with sick kids. Basically I’m swamped with work stuff! What r u doing?”

ME: “I’m just on my way home from work. I don’t want you to stress you out any more than you already have. Please don’t feel any pressure if you can’t work it out to see me tomorrow. I’d be disappointed only b/c I want to see you, but I’d totally understand.”

            I expected her to jump all over this offer; to take the time to catch up on her work instead. As much as I needed to see her, it wasn’t fair if the kids were sick all week and she fell behind on work. I wanted her to know, this wasn’t all about me, but we.  

ANYA: “No I want to see u! Like I said I could use a big long hug!”

ME: “Ok! My offer is now off the table! Can’t wait to melt away with you babe! I really miss you!”

ANYA: “I miss u too! Can’t wait to cuddle with you!”

ME: “I can’t wait to have you in my arms tomorrow. I love you.”

ANYA: “Me too! I love you!”

            Although I never heard back from her on this day, the day we first met twenty-two months ago, her pending visit brought me so much positive energy, it didn’t bother me at all. It made me realize as long as I knew I’d see her again, within a short reasonable amount of time, I felt secure that the form of her love was well intentioned. I understood, our love had to be on her terms for the time being, I just trusted it would change. I didn’t realize the more time I gave, the more I’d risk to lose. I thought she would reward me for my patience and understanding, but it seemed every visit, no matter how great it was, she’d leave and left me to wonder if and when I’d see her again. I poured my entire being into our relationship, while the man she married only poured his bodily fluids into his marriage with her. How could I be left to be unrewarded?

            The night before her visit, I decided to go to the mall. I then made an unplanned visit to the See’s candies store to pick her up a box of chocolates, specifically her favorite, nuts and chews. As I walked around the mall, I next found myself in a store called Brookstone, a store that sold tech gadgets and other odds and ends. My mother loved this kind of store, where they sold things you wouldn’t even think you needed, until you saw the item on the shelf and went “you know, I could really use a foot-long wooden back scratcher.” I had Anya in mind though as I feared her visits might get stale. Anya always seemed to appreciate my simple gestures. When she told me, she was a “simple person”, I believed it. To me though, simple was never good enough for her. When we were together, she made me the happiest person alive, and candles and music were nice but she deserved more. I felt those things were nice, but really short changed her value. I feared her visits may get stale, that the music and candles were nice. They showed an appreciation for her, but also provide no element of surprise. I wanted to make sure she knew her visits meant the world to me. Unlike her husband who only wanted a release of his bodily fluids, I needed her presence. I wanted to let her know I appreciated her, and the time she gave me. If she believed her visits were stale, she might believe my love for her was as well. I thought I would pick her up a couple of things, just to let her know her visits were important and she was always on my mind wherever I went. Whenever the courting stopped, a relationship usually followed suit.

When the next day came, I placed the “presents” I picked up from the mall on her side of the bed.

ANYA: “Here.”

            Unknown to her, this was her forty-first visit to my gate, and the eighty-first time we’ve been in the physical presence of one another. Each night my apartment felt like a dreary cold cell, but whenever Anya graced its floors, it felt like the most majestic castle. Upon entry, I picked her up in my arms, and with my eyes in hers, led her to my room. I gently laid her down and when I did, she saw the gifts on her side of the bed and her smile lit up my candle lit room.        ‘Very thoughtful of you, babe.” she said as her lips met mine.

            “I thought you could use the massager if your ankle hurts after you run.” I said as I took off my shirt then jumped in bed next to her. “I even picked one up for myself, and was even kind enough to give you the pink one.”

            She laughed then threw herself into my arms. I inhaled in her sweet perfume off her bare body; a scent so good I could’ve breathed it in forever. She thanked me several times and told me how sweet the gifts were as I could tell the event was a rare one for her. We then laid half naked in my bed in each other arms, as our lips and hands tried to reclaim our lost time. As much as I wanted to go there, to experience the deepest acts of intimacy, I feared my emotions might lead to pressure her, so I held back, and used my hand to stimulate her. I pleasured her for about ten minutes and after she climaxed, she looked into my eyes in a way I never seen before; as if I touched a part of her no one ever had. After an hour of an uninterrupted affection, that alleviated our stress and need for each other, I held her in my arms while she gazed into my eyes and waited for me to speak.

            “Feeling good, babe?” I asked.

            “I love it when your strong hand touches me.” she said. “I get so turned on.”

            “Feeling you with my hand makes me want to feel you with another part of me.”

            “Oh. My. God! You’re turning me on again!”

            “The whole time I was touching you, I was imagining how you would feel along my tongue and against my lips.”

            “Anytime you’re ready!”

            “Well…I’d love to, but I was going pretty good with the hand!”

            “Mmmmm. You were!”

            “Touching you is a huge turn on for me.” I said. “Especially when I know you’re enjoying it.”

            “I loved it!”

            “It was really hot how you showed me you loved it.” I said.

            “Natural response.”

            Loving Anya was as natural to me as her response. I found her spot naturally because I felt naturally connected to her; designed for each other by the universe. I wanted to give her so much more than a mere touch to a preferred spot of pleasure. The way she looked at me, almost seemed to say she couldn’t believe it felt so good, and it behooved me to know, I could’ve made her feel even better as my remarkable restraint drove me to the edge of sanity when I saw how much she loved what I did. I felt women generally disregarded me as a poor lover, but I held enough confidence to believe after one night with me, I could change their mind. Even Denise used to comment I had strong hands as well and that they went “through her”, and loved the time we spent in the bedroom together It’s all I ever was to her though, a good time in the sack, as it all meant nothing when she chose someone else. It took me six years to regain my confidence in the bedroom, to have the strength to love someone the only way I knew how to love someone, with my heart and mind. I knew even if I was the world’s greatest lover, if I lost Anya, I could never touch or love someone the same again, and lose all that ever made me a great lover. I would have lost not only Anya, but the woman I knew was my soulmate, and I’d simply lose my ability to love someone like that again. Another reason I restrained myself from loving her as much as I wanted to in the bedroom. Also, there still remained one last thing for Anya to know about me before I could fully reclaim my ability to love in the bedroom; her awareness of the extra bone on my leg, the same protrusion that scared Denise away. At this very moment, I contemplated a decision to tell Anya, to let her know one of the reasons why my restraint in the bedroom existed, but I feared a loss of the momentum I made in my recovery of this missing part of me.

            “I’m thinking about taking a leave of absence after busy season.” I told her.

            “Would they let you, babe?”

            “I think they will. I really need to reset and find a better balance in my life. I’m going to let them know about my mother’s illness and that I want to spend some time with her.”

            “Have you asked her yet? About something she may be keeping from you?”

            “No, but I plan to.” I said. “As much as it might affect me, and I respect how my grandmother handled it, I prefer to know. I have a mental job and need to be prepared for something like that.”

            “When do you plan to ask her?”

            “Next time I visit. I’m going to stay with her on Saturday night and spend Easter morning with her and my Dad.”

            “You’re a good son.”

            “I try.” I said.

            Just as I spoke her Pink Blackberry phone sprang to life. She then leaned over, grabbed it, laid with it face up on my bed, smiled and showed it to me.

            “Who is it?” I asked. “Is it him?”

            “No. It’s my mom.” she said. “Do you want to answer it?”

            “What an honor it would be.”

            “I’m not going to answer it.” she said.

            “Does she usually call you at this time?”

            “Never.”

            “Do you think she may suspect anything?”

            “I don’t know.” she said. “I don’t think so.”

            “Kind of crazy how we were just talking about my mom…” I said. “and your mom calls. Do you think they are on to us?”

            “I wish!” she laughed.

            “Your husband would never go to your parents with this, would he?” I asked. “He suggested they would be horrified if they knew. It sounded to me like a threat from him because how else would they find out but through him?”

            “I don’t think he would.” she said.

            I wanted her to follow with “if he did, I would leave him.”, but my heart never received the wish it made.

            “It’s hard for me to not feel tremendous guilt about things.” she said.

            “Tremendous guilt?”

            “Yes. I’m a walking, breathing, living guilt.”

            “You’re not putting a gun to my head, babe.” I said.

            “I know…but I worry about your emotions.” she said. “When you hurt, I hurt.”

            “I’ll have no choice but to walk if I ever hurt you again.” I said. “As much as it would destroy me, I’ll have no choice. If I can’t keep my emotions in check, then I need to admit they are too big for me. I don’t want you to ever feel guilty about your true feelings. I’ve put too much trust in them for you to feel guilty about them. The only reason you should feel ever feel guilty, when it comes to your love for me, is if you’re being dishonest about it.”

            “I’m not lying to you.”

            “Then I don’t think you should feel guilty. If I let my emotions get the best of me again and it puts pressure on you, then I’ll have to walk away.” I said as I looked into her soft dark eyes and played with her hair. “Can I ask you a question?”

            “Yes, babe.”

            “Has love ever been important to you?” I said. “Important enough in your life to have? Do you think love is important for men to have? Or is money more important?”

            “I think men place more value on money than love, and having friends is more important to women.” she said. “What do you think?”

            I felt disheartened by her answer, as it seemed to prove her popularity meant more to her than love did, and the loss of “seventy five percent” of her friends if she left Jackson. That her choice to stay for the sake of the kids was predicated upon what others thought of her if she were to leave, as she planned to keep Jackson’s impeccable reputation as her husband intact in their eyes. I began to feel sick to my stomach as I thought of the repercussions of the response to my question. That I could’ve loved her to the greatest of any man’s ability, and it never mattered.

             “That’s interesting. I generally always thought having financial freedom and being taken care was most important to women. I thought having friends were somewhat of a byproduct from having money. That if men defined themselves by how much money they made, it was because women defined men by such terms. I always believed women, for the most part, drove men to make as much money as possible.”

            She nodded but not in agreement, as my life experiences up to this point, disallowed me to see it any other way as I tried to further understand the truth behind why she still didn’t know. Was it because Jackson’s money allowed her to have a number of friends she wouldn’t normally have or associate with? I didn’t seem like Anya had any life-long friends, like I did. It appeared she seemed to lose most of those friends when she married Jackson. Didn’t she care about the friends she lost at all when she broke off her engagement, or were those friends always expendable? Or did she realize, when it came to Jackson and his money, she could easily shun those who truly cared about her? As long as she had money and the friends Jackson’s wealth and status afforded her, that she could just shit on everyone else? That the hearts, minds and emotions of others didn’t matter? Each time I tried to see her side of things. Each time I tried to see her pain above my own, her answers left me with questions and doubts. I just wasn’t sold on her kids being vulnerable and too young as the reason she stayed. They were even more vulnerable and younger when we first met almost two years ago. At times I felt her love led me to a den of darkness where lions awaited me, and at times I felt she loved me too much to ever do such a thing, but one thing I knew for certain, it was either the den or her heart she led me to, and there could be no destination in between. There had to be something else, the real reason behind her “I don’t know” even beyond her own hopes, wishes and dreams. By the look in Anya’s eyes when I told her my feelings on this issue, told me I was a little closer to the truth.

            “Thank you for the gifts. Babe.” she said. “You didn’t have to.”

            “I felt so bad for you this week, babe, and I felt helpless.” I said. “You’re getting pulled in so many directions right now. You’re getting slammed by me, your father, you’re dealing with that woman at the games. I love you and it’s my job to care about your happiness when no one seems to.”

            She then rolled into my arms as her lips found mine. We kissed and whispered to each other, our mouth inches apart as we spoke. Ten minutes later, when our time expired, and after I brought her back to me a few times with my left arm, I finally let her escape so she wouldn’t be late to pick up her kids at school. When she returned home after pickup and I returned to the darkness of Hesperia, after a long drive, in a fog of emotions, Anya texted me.

ANYA: “Thank u sooo much for everything! You’re the best!”

ME: “Thank u for visiting! I had a great time! Miss you!”

ANYA: “I had a great time too! Cloud 9! Miss u too!”

ME: “Time flies by way too fast whenever I’m with you.”

ANYA: “I know! Crazy!”

            “Cloud 9” was a perfect description for our time together as I still saw her beautiful soft dark eyes in mine, but I wanted to see her face every day and it hurt me to know I wouldn’t know when I’d get to see her again. Within my point of missing, I considered how a person who worked at a gas station got to see Anya, and could even talk to her out in public, when her best friend, the man she loved, couldn’t. All of her “friends” could do the same, while her “best friend” remained a horrible secret. All that love I gave her, everything I poured of myself because I trusted her, yet I remained her “secret”, as if my love was her was horrific, and Jackson’s so pure. Sure, these people didn’t share the same things with her I did, but they had freedoms I wasn’t allowed, and I was the man she loved. I didn’t want Anya to feel any more guilt, or any pressure from me, but if she truly loved me, why did she care about losing seventy five percent of her friends when she had more to gain with me? Were they even friends to begin with if they couldn’t respect her reasons or appreciate the love, she found in me? Unexpectedly, I felt even more empty than when Anya left my side in San Diego. I tried to focus on the good feelings after her visit thought, and was able to combat the negative energy my mind tried to feed off from.

            When I got home, I texted to see what she was up to.  

ANYA: “Just hanging out with Andrew. Did you talk to your mom tonight, babe?”

ME: “I’m going to give her a call before I go to bed.”

ANYA: “Tell her I said hello. Giggles!”

ME: “Oh I will! I’m sure she would get a kick out of that. She will tell me to say hello to you too.”

ANYA: “Really? Thank u again for the thoughtful gifts. U know I broke into the chocolate box!”

ME: “Haha! I’m glad! Now you’re making me hungry! You’re welcome.”

ANYA: “Thank u! Muah!”  

            When I closed my eyes to say goodbye to the day, her texts helped me to focus on the good feelings her visit brought me; a great day together we both needed to keep our hopes alive. The next day, a Saturday, I didn’t hear much from Anya as I tried to stave off the flow of any negative energy in her silence. When I did hear from her, after I texted her from work to see how she was doing, I started to feel better.

ANYA: “Just finishing up last min touches on Katie’s room b4 I pick her up from her friend’s. She’s going to be sooo excited!”

ME: “What else is there left to do?”

ANYA: “Curtains, lamps, knobs, pictures, etc. Have an hour! Ahhhh!”

ME: “She’s going to love it! I’ll let you get back at it!”

ANYA: “Thx! Creative juices flowing!”

            Anything Anya did for her kids never bothered me as I wished I could’ve helped her get it all done, or at least the parts of her project she could’ve used a man’s help with. I admired Anya in a lot of ways, and her love for her kids was one of the reasons I loved her as much as I did. As much agony it caused me when I felt she pit them against me, against us, and against her happiness, I appreciated her for it. She carried them in her womb for nine months and no man could possibly understand the bond she shared with them, especially me. For her to go through what she did, at a time she really needed Jackson, would always strike an emotional chord within me as I empathized with her pain greatly. My struggle is that I didn’t expect this to be an issue if she loved me. I didn’t expect her kids to be the reason she stayed after what she told me in the beginning. It almost felt as if my love was hijacked, but for her to allow and encourage me to love her so deeply only spoke volumes about her pain, and her need for love. If she went through less than honest lengths to have love, to a point she admitted she couldn’t help it, then that only fueled my fire and belief in all I fought for her to have. How could she not realize for her to stay with Jackson at this point represented a complete denial of her own self? Some choices mothers made to stay for the sake of their kids were valid sacrifices to make, however I felt such sacrifices should never come at the cost of their character or well being. I could never understand a mother’s sacrifice under those terms, especially after we’ve shared so much of ourselves with each other.

            When I returned home from the office, I needed to find another outlet for those times I missed Anya, so I decided to tune my acoustic-electric guitar, a hobby I picked up after Denise left me. As I tried to remember a tune I used to know how to play, Metallica’s “Fade to Black”, Anya sent me a text.

ANYA: “What are you doing?”

ME: “I tuned my guitar and I’m messing around with it. Glad you’re not here to witness this! Still thinking about how great yesterday was. What r u doing? I miss you.”

            I laid my phone down and thought I would hear from her immediately, but I played my guitar for about another hour before I did.

ANYA: “Sorry went for a run. That’s great! Andrew loves the guitar! I know yesterday was just what the Doctor ordered! I miss you too babe.”

            I don’t know why, I guess my sadness worked on my mind that way, but I put my guitar away when I heard back from Anya as I anticipated it would be the last time, I heard from her for the rest of the evening. When I heard she ran in the afternoon, another oddity, I feared she had plans with Jackson on this night, and it got my wheels to spin in the mud yet again. Although, my journal was the only other outlet that helped me with the longing, even that began to provide no comfort as I couldn’t help the emptiness. When she asked me what I was doing, it got my hopes up I might get to see her, but I was wrong. It found it strange she went for a run the second after she had just sent me a text. As I went to a dark place, I decided to go to pick up my mail from the office. When I retrieved it, in the stack was a pink envelope. When I saw the pink envelope, my heart rate increased as I jogged back to my apartment, and even up my stairs so I could open it quicker in private. A card emerged from the envelope that read on the front.

            “On the highway of life, there are many challenges…”

            When I opened the card, it read.

            “And through all of them, just remember I’m in your lane.”

            At the bottom of the card she wrote

“Love, Anya 

Xxxoxoxoxoxoxooxox”

            All I could do, at that point, was bury my head in my hands and cry, never more moved by a card. To receive such a thing from someone I loved so much, at a time I struggled without her, I thought could only happen in the movies. I then composed myself, wiped the tears from my eyes and texted Anya to thank her for a show of love, at a time I desperately needed it.

ANYA: “I love you very much babe.”

            When she put her name on the card, it meant so much. She even put a return address on the envelope, and took a chance it could be returned to its sender. It was a show of love and trust I had to remember each time I struggled. Each time I worried about her form of love. Each time I thought of the missing piece around why she didn’t know. I had to think of how her presence surrounded me in this most unexpected form, the sweetest one yet. On a night I knew I’d hurt; she knew she had to reach me. I felt so much; I didn’t know how to process the pain other as it made more logical sense if she didn’t truly love me. If I knew that, I might have a chance to survive if I lost her, but the reality remained dark, I would miss her love too much, even air would never be enough to sustain my existence.

With the news of Sonoma’s closing, I feared I’d never see “our office” again. Since I knew Anya wouldn’t be able to join me before it closed, I decided to visit and get the inside scoop from the people who worked there. If they had plans to tear it down, I wanted to remember our night together when she asked me “Would you fight for me”, and the night she revealed I had swept her off her feet, what was required of me when we first met to receive a promise to leave. Unfortunately, this also meant I probably had to tolerate Mitch’s presence, but I also wanted to see what would become of his life if Sonoma’s ceased to exist.

            When I reached the establishment at about nine-thirty that evening, I was greeted at the door by Howard, a large hefty bouncer there for at least the last ten years, as he informed me of the change in ownership before I could even ask.

            “You heard the news, right?” as he presented his fist at me to bump.

            “So, I guess it’s true then.” I said as my fist met his own. “Do you know if they are closing the place down?”

            “Not sure, man. Not sure.” he said with his deep husky voice.  

            “Do you know why they decided to sell? It’s still a popular place.”

            “They want a younger more “hip” crowd.” he said. “They’re tired of all the manthers and the cougars prowlin’ around the joint.”

            “A more “hip” crowd?” I asked jokingly. “What am I chopped liver?”

            “Shit, dude. Whatchu talkin’ bout? You don’t even come here anymore.” he said. “The last time I saw you, you were walkin’ outta here with some hot Asian chick.”

            “I’ve been here a few more times since then.” I said.

            “Well, it’s different here now anyways. You ain’t missin’ shit, man” he said. “And you kept that one dude in line.”

            “Who? Mitch?”

            “Yeah, Bitch. I mean…Mitch. Whatever his name is.” he confirmed. “Dude’s a fuckin’ train wreck, man. I’ve had to kick him out of here at least ten times over the last six months. He’s always giving the ladies a hard time.”

            “Why do you keep letting him back in?” I asked.

            “I don’t know…it’s kind of fun watchin’ him get shut down.” he said. “As long as he keeps his hands to himself. He’s cool. He’s done that…for the most part.”

            I nodded, but unsure I agreed with his reason, as it seemed everyone, even the staff, had very little respect for the women. At the time I started to frequent Sonomas I was down on women. They seemed to have zero respect for me, so I felt inclined to return the sentiment, but I just never had it in me to be the asshole they needed a man to be. Sonomas was a place men went to house their bitterness, but when I met Anya, it saved me from taking up residence here. When Anya said she liked to think we both saved each other, she was right.

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            After my conversation with Howard, I walked directly to “our office” and stood inside it, empty, for probably the last time. I brought myself before the part of the wall, the one Anya leaned upon when her soft dark eyes spoke to me in desperation and then asked me if I would fight for her. Those same eyes, with all the love that had to be in the world in them, gazed even deeper then told me “You’ve swept me off my feet”, the only thing I needed to do for her to gift me a promise. A scene transpired that seemed just like yesterday, but over a year ago. I then touched that part of the wall and brought my hand to my nose, with the outrageous of hopes, that maybe her scent rubbed off against it. I stood there longer as I hoped maybe we were connected enough, she knew where I stood, but my phone never moved nor blinked, and doorway as inanimate as ever. Now over a year later, I stood alone in front of the same wall, in front of a ghost, and unsure of the future as the employees of Sonomas felt about theirs. I felt like I worked for a company, who promised me payment when they made enough money to get off the ground, yet even after they made their first sale, never came through with payment. I felt Anya and I had, in essence, a verbal agreement she instead chose to breach, but I couldn’t find complete fault in her, because love looked inside before it went outside. Even as I stood before an apparition, I felt like a soul damned to this part of the bar for all eternity, unwilling to ever trek outside. For the first time, I considered it wasn’t my heart that was broken, but rather my mind; the only reason it felt like my heart was.

            After a half hour inside “our office”, I broke away from the haunted area and decided to head home and to end the night. As I walked out into the bar area, I saw no trace of Carolyn and Debbie, or my Anya, but seconds later I was greeted by the bar’s own living legend and fixture.

            “What’s up?” Mitch asked as he jerked his head upwards as he sat at the bar perched next to a woman that must have weighed more than the bar itself.  

            “Hey, nothing. I’m just leaving.”

            “Did you hear the news?” he said as he rose and approached me.

            “Yeah, I heard. Howard told me.” I said. “I guess that’s going to turn your life a little upside down.”

            “Not as much as yours already is.” he shot back.

            All I could do was nod in disagreement.

            “I guess the real question is where you’ll go when she leaves you behind and blames you for all the trouble in her life.” he said. “Did you ask her for a promise yet?”

            “No.” I lied.

            “You should do it.” he said. “I bet she plays dumb with ya…like “What? Why would you ask me that? You know my situation. You’re an asshole.”.”

            “I’m not going to pressure her.” I said. “and you can’t make assumptions about my situation based on your experiences, because you don’t know everything there is to know. So… it’s easy for you to make judgments.”

            “What don’t I know?’

            “She mailed me a card yesterday.” I said. “A very sweet thoughtful card.”

            “Yeah, but did she suck your dick?”

            “No. And what would that prove anyway?”

            “It’s better than a fucking card.”

            “I want to be with her so I’ll take the card.” I said.

            “Yeah, but you should just take the BJ. At least you’ll get something out of it.” I said. “Let me ask you a question.”

            I just looked at him because I knew he was going to ask it regardless.

“Does she love you? Does she miss you?” he asked. “Cause I don’t see her here tonight.”

“She has to be at home with her kids, Mitch. It’s a Saturday night.”

“She could let the kids sleep over someone’s house. My bet is she’s out with her husband tonight, it’s date night for them. She’s partyin’ it up like a rockstar, gettin’ shitfaced, and fuckin’ him while you’re here at Sonomas with both hands in your pockets.” he said. “That card was just another way to mislead and bullshit you. Another tool out of her shed to fool the tool.”

            “She tells me she loves me and misses me all the time.” I said. “Why would she have any reason to come out here anyway? She doesn’t know I’m here. To see your miserable ass?”

            “Hasn’t she been like…tellin’ you those things for the last two years now?” he asked. “I see a lot of tellin’ but not a lot of showin’.”

            “It’s not just about me.” I said. “She has kids. She shows me when she needs to.”

            “It’s you and the kids, Landyn.” He said. “You and the kids.”

            “I know, but it’s not that simple.” I said. “She has concerns for them.”

            “She has concerns for herself, Landyn. That’s why she’s still there. That’s why she’s not here.” he rambled on. “If she loved you, if she missed you, nothing would stop her. I had this happen to me once. It’s why I know. It’s why I’m vocal about it. I just never bought it for two years.”

             “I think she has the right to be cautious about this.” I defended. “It’s not an easy thing a mother to make a decision based on her own happiness. I love that about her; that’s she’s not able to do that. She’s visited my place over forty times. We’ve hung out over eighty times. I favor our statistics, and it’s nothing close to what you experienced with that bitch you hooked up with. I’m sorry she left you so bitter, but she’s not Anya. Not even close. You’ll see.”

            “Ninety-eight. Two.” He replied.

            “Whatever. Later.” I said as I walked out in exasperation.

            As I sat inside my car, I didn’t start it as I chose to stew over Mitch’s assessment of Anya’s love for me. I reasoned he just wanted someone to hang out with again. Someone to keep him in line and out of trouble. Someone to offer him a free ride instead of an expensive cab ride home. He knew girls gave him more of a chance with me around, as I legitimized him in some way, but I also didn’t want them to associate me with him based on his crude behavior. He was a dude I met there and not a lifelong friend or even a friend I considered to be a good one. The sale of Sonoma’s had to be a good thing as the place seemed to promote debauchery. If it wasn’t Mitch, it was Carolyn and the cop, and those were only the instances of which I was aware of. I believed my relationship was the only one of decency to come out of the place, but if Anya still didn’t know, then how did it differ from any of the others?

            I woke up the next morning disoriented, as if I had been drinking. After I answered the red light that blinked on my phone to read Anya’s early “good morning” text, I texted her back to inform her for the late response.

ME: “Good morning. Just woke up.”

            Since Anya never texted me back, I decided to go to the gym to sneak in a Sunday morning workout, a rarity these days for me. When I returned to my car after the workout, I saw Anya had texted me.       

ANYA: “Just got out of KB. Whatcha doin?”

ME: “Hi babe! Just got out of the gym. How r u?”

She usually texted me now five to ten minutes later on the average whereas in the past she’d text me back immediately. She responded to my text in less than a minute though as I feared my short morning text may have worried her.

ANYA: “Good! It’s beautiful out! Just hanging w/the kiddos.”

ME: “It is a beautiful day! Not as beautiful as you though, but not too shabby either!”

ANYA: “Ha! Thx babe! I love you!”

ME: “I love you too!”

             It warmed my heart to see Anya receptive to my comparison of her beauty text as it set the tone for me to have a day full of positive thoughts. As the day carried on, she kept me “in the know”.

ANYA: “The kids raided the chocolate box!”

ME: “Haha! Good for them! Did I tell you you’re the first girl I’ve ever bought a box of chocolates for?

ANYA: “Seriously?”

ME: “It’s true.”

ANYA: “Well I thought it was very sweet and thoughtful of you. You’re an angel, my love.”

ME: “Thanks babe. Just wanted you to know I’m always listening and thinking of you.”

ANYA: “I love you forever.”

            To be referred to has as an “angel” fueled me even more to find the emotional resolve within to make this work. It frustrated me too, only in the sense how she was unable to vouch for me. Why couldn’t she be proud enough to defend me if she viewed me as an “angel”. At least enough to make me a promise that one day she would leave him? At this point, I couldn’t understand why the opportunity to stay with Jackson forever could ever exist, even after the kids left home, and it was just her and him. Even with her kids involved, she knew I came into this with only the best of intentions, and was still here because she and I both still believed in them. The lack of a promise though, even if she couldn’t leave at this moment, is what threatened to wreak havoc on my mind and heart. On this Sunday, her love shone through for me, even at the end of the night. The night of the week she usually devoted to the façade.

ANYA: “Goodnight babe. I love you.”

            Anya was the most loving woman I knew on this planet, and I found it tragic her kids never knew that about their own mother. Nearly two months ago, Anya sent me a letter to let me go, but it only proved one thing; she never could because she knew where love truly resided. To let me go was to also let go of being truly loved. How could she ask the man who knew this, to allow her to ever make such a choice? I had to find a way to look at the things I struggled with differently. Something I couldn’t do it with mistrust, but with love. If I continued to be frustrated, even as warranted as it was at times, she would use it against me. I had to be both rational and articulate whenever I communicated with her, to be the voice of reason and not the voice of fear. Although we’ve had some really good times together, by far the greatest times of my life, our best times together were still ahead of us. I needed to be a little more patient than I’ve ever been. Regardless of what Mitch thought, I could tell she really missed me on a day she usually never seemed to. She responded quicker to my texts and even wished me a good morning and goodnight, things she rarely did anymore, especially on a Sunday with her kids there. She even thanked me more than once for the gifts and sent me the most thoughtful card I’ve ever received. I began to be consumed by guilt as I recalled her cries during our last arguments; “I have no one”, “you’re not listening”, and “my heart is bleeding, happy?” I could never be happy if her heart bled simply because it only led mine to bleed even more. I came to learn, no matter how frustrated I got, the pain would only circle back around to me, an emotional boomerang. Anya needed my love and I couldn’t let her down. I knew she was “the one” without the time to consider it; her love hit me so hard--I just knew. I had to be more understanding about her kids. To find a way to not take this so personally and try to sell her on the benefits for them if she left. On how our love could only help them more than it ever could hurt them.

            With a lot on my mind, and with another long work week ahead of me, I decided I couldn’t hold out any longer as I made a visit to see my mom. To learn the truth about the prognosis of her illness, so I could fall asleep and be ready for the new week ahead of me. When I returned home, my mother gave me assurances she would tell me if a doctor gave her months, or even a certain number of days to live. Before I fell asleep however, I sent Anya a few late texts to share with her the details of the conversation I had with my mother.

ME: “Hi babe. My mom finds out from the oncologist on the 16th if the chemo is working or not. She told me when she was diagnosed with bone cancer, the doctor gave her 3 years to live. It’s now year 6. At the time, her oncologist told her she was the longest known living case of cancer patients who used the drug Femarra. When he told my mother, “You were only given 3 years but the drug had given her 6”, she told him “The drug gave me 3 years, but God gave her 3 more.”

ME: “I mentioned taking the leave of absence from work only because if the chemo wasn’t working, I didn’t think I’d have much time left with her. I think there’s a strong possibility that the lesions on her skull could enter into her brain, and at that point, she may be gone sooner even if she’s still alive. I’m afraid of it happening so quick, and since my job is 100% mental, I think it’s a good idea for me and also the firm, if I took a leave if possible. My mom has always been there for me so now it’s my time to be there for her.”

ME: “Your card really cheered me up babe. I’ve added it to the Anya shrine in my room. It really touched me and was very sweet of you. Thank you so much again for it. It meant a lot. I love you forever.”

            The next morning, she responded.  

ANYA: “Good morning. Thank you for sharing last night. It helps me understand better what’s going on. I hope you can take a leave.”

ME: “Good morning. I hope so too. I can only imagine you must have a busy week ahead of you because the kids were out sick all last week.” 

ANYA: “YES! Big time catch up! Have lots going on. I’m so sorry about your mom babe. When she goes in on the 16th, r u going with her?”

ME: “Thanks Sweetheart. My mother told me she didn’t want me to go. My dad is going though, so I might go regardless. I’ll let you go babe so you can get cranking! Have a good day! I miss you.”

ANYA: “I miss you too.”

As the day continued, and silence prevailed on my phone, I decided to text to let her know she was on my mind.

ME: “Still very touched by my card. You’re just so beautiful babe, inside and out. I hope you know that. I love you.”

ANYA: “Still very touched by your thoughtful gifts! I love you forever.”

            When Anya upped the ante, as she added a “forever” to her “I love you”, it helped me to focus and finish out the rest of my work day on the highest of notes.

            Later that evening when I got home from work, I texted her to see if she had physical therapy the next day, and to gauge if she had time to see me this week.

ANYA: “Hi! Sorry got busy w/the kids and then been on the phone with a friend who was complaining about her husband. Just got off! Yes, PT tom. I miss u babe. How r u?”

            I responded to her text in kind, then both wished each other a goodnight. Mondays were hard for me to adjust to emotionally, even when I felt secure. Anya’s phone conversation with a friend though, who complained about her husband, led me to wonder if Anya ever complained to her friends about Jackson. Since Carolyn and Debbie both adored me, she had to have told them something about him, just not the whole story. Or did she field complaints from her friends about their husbands without reciprocation? To lead them to believe she had the perfect marriage and family life? It just made me wonder about the show she put on for others, who weren’t as close to her as me, Carolyn and Debbie were. I had to find a way to convince my mind, that some of the things she shared with others didn’t mean she didn’t love me or miss me less, but rather the opposite. If she did have complaints about Jackson though, did they have the potential to hurt me and that’s why she chose to go through other friends? Or did she not want to give me the impression she would do the same to me if we got married?  I would hope she knew I wasn’t perfect, and could always feel safe to come to me directly with her complaints so I always had the opportunity to make it right for her. Men could be insensitive and stupid at times, and I was no different.

            The next day, the seventh day of April, and one day away from Jackson’s symposium, I heard from Anya briefly to wish me a good morning, so I decided to check up with her on my lunch break to see how her physical therapy went.

ANYA: “Hi babe! Ok so yes, but got a call from the school nurse right after I dropped the kids off to pick up Andrew because he wasn’t feeling good. He got in my car and threw up! So I cancelled PT and dropped the car off to have it detailed. He’s asleep now.”

ME: “OMG! Poor Andrew. He must have been trying to fight that the entire time he was in class. I’m so sorry to hear that babe. That will definitely knock your day out of whack.”

            It brought me back to the time when I was about ten years old. I told my mother and father, I wasn’t feeling well, but my father thought I had made it up, and told me I had to go with them to Bob’s for dinner. I sat in that booth with nausea for twenty minutes before I let loose in the restaurant. My parents were really embarrassed, but both of them felt bad because I warned them in advance. At ten years of age, I didn’t understand how it made the people who dined near us felt, but I’m sure I ruined a few meals that evening. When Anya told me the story, I wish I had been there to help her out, as that was all came back to mind.

            Later that evening when I returned home from work, I texted Anya to see how the rest of her day went and how Andrew was feeling.

ANYA: “He’s better thx. Whew! Rough day! You’re not going to believe this but I just dropped Suki’s glass food bowl and the glass shattered all over the place!”

Just like the glass bowl, my heart shattered in pieces for Anya as I read her text. She lived a hectic existence and with the little help she had, it only made me want to be with her that much more to help her during times like this; to let her know she had a team player on her side who wanted to take the stress off her plate. Even as tired as I was after work, I wished I could’ve been there to sweep up the glass, to take care of Andrew, and to help Katie with her homework, so she could just read a book to get her mind off the day. I didn’t believe these happenings were coincidence, but rather signs. Signs from the universe so she couldn’t ignore the option of her heart. The woman at her son’s games could not be pure coincidence anymore than Andrew’s upset stomach or a broken glass bowl were. Someone, or something was trying to reach her, who knew and witnessed our struggle. The louder the Universe spoke, and the more stress Anya incurred, she could no longer ignore the increasing reasons to leave. If having me in her life and being in love with me wasn’t enough evidence all the stars could muster, they would only provide her with more over time.  

ME: “Today surely hasn’t been your day! I’m sorry it’s been such a rough day for you. I wish I could help.”

ANYA: “No it hasn’t been. Tom is another day! Thank you! I’m going to meet the girls for a drink cuz I need one!”

ME: “Tom will be a better day for sure. Please be careful. I miss you. I love you.”

ANYA: “Yup! I’m only going to meet them for one. That’s all I need. I miss you. I love you.”

            Instead of my arms, she turned to alcohol to solve her stress. It broke my heart to imagine her one day on a bed, like my mother, to imagine Katie or Andrew faced with the sight of the back of their mother’s bald head as she laid on a pillow when they walked into her room. Anya had to be selfish in this situation; she put herself in harm’s way everyday as Jackson was too busy, obsessed with his political agenda. A nanny couldn’t be there all the time, and she needed his help. I learned Anya only developed a palate for fine wine because this mountain of stress drove her to seek solace in it. If she needed to reach for alcohol in times of distress, we were more connected than I even believed we were, as that same need in me existed whenever I reached for a Vicodin; just to feel fifteen minutes of euphoria to replace the sting of her absence. I felt we were on the cusp, the verge of being together one day, but if I got frustrated, it would only push her further away, as moments like this were one of the many reasons I believed in the goodness of our love. Her bad day left me unable to sleep, and as I wrote in my journal to help deal with my concern for her, she sent me a text two minutes past eleven.

ANYA: “Still up?”

ME: “I am babe. How are you doing?”

ANYA: “Good! Had two Coronas w/the girls. Just what I needed!  Whatcha doin?”

ME: “Just thinking of you babe. Writing in my journal. I couldn’t go to sleep. I was worried.”

ANYA: “Thank you. I’m good baby. Time for me to say nite nite.”

            As she ended our exchange, I felt helpless, as I wished she opened up to me rather than have two Coronas with the girls. Although she informed me of her bad day, why did she suddenly confide in others? It left me to feel why choose a day of happiness if she just planned to sacrifice it anyway? A part of me died inside tonight as I failed to bottle up any of the positive thoughts I had earlier. After all I’ve given, I finished second to a bottle of Corona. Part of me believed she made a decision to no longer confide in me, afraid I’d pressure her to do the right thing, heaven forbid. She could love me any way she pleased, at any time she pleased, but if I did the same, it could only be perceived as “pressure”, and not love. If Carolyn and Debbie were true friends, I couldn’t understand how they could convince her to stay after all they knew. When I went to bed with this negative energy on my mind, a bad night’s sleep was the last thing I needed. I had to get adequate rest especially with the symposium the following day. I then did the only thing I could, to take my negative energy and compose it into a text message to her.

ME: “I was going through old texts u sent me over the last 16 months. You have said so many sweet things to me. It goes to prove you can really touch me from anywhere. I’ve never had someone love or care so much. The things u tell me, the things u do for me, and the way u treat me is the way love should feel. I always knew it was supposed to feel this way. It’s definitely a first in my life. Sometimes I feel though I’ve punished you b/c of the girls I met before you. They weren’t very good to me and I kind of resort back to the way they treated me. How they made me feel like such a fool. Anyway, what I’ve experienced with you is nothing close to what I’ve experienced with them. I’ve always believed in the love you’ve shown me.”

ME: “You’ve told me men judge themselves upon the wealth they can accumulate. I’m not saying money isn’t important to have b/c it’s essential to survive, but I’d rather be judged by how much someone loves me (you) and by happy I’ve made them more than how much money I’ve made. Having love and being in love is how I judge my worth in this world; always have, always will. Sorry for the rant! I wish I could’ve been there for you today, babe. I would’ve cleaned your car and took care of the broken glass for you. Then I would’ve held you in my arms until u fell asleep and forgotten all about your bad day. Tomorrow (now today) will be a better one my love. It can’t get any worse! It just has to be! JK! I love you babe. Goodnight again.”

            After I sent these texts off, I felt a lot better and was able to fall asleep. When I woke up the next morning, afraid to learn she didn’t respond, I finally mustered up the courage to look at my phone after ten minutes of a pep talk to myself in the event she didn’t respond. When I looked at my phone and saw my phone’s red light on, I actually felt the relief run through my body.

ANYA: “Good morning! Thank you for the texts last night. That was very sweet of you. It just sucks we’re not together.”

ME: “Good morning! It sure does. Busy day I bet for you. Is Andrew feeling better?”

ANYA: “He’s better, babe! Yes, busy and you will be in my thoughts every step of the way! I love you!”

ME: “The day is already better! Andrew is well again! I’m really happy to hear that! Have a good day babe! You’ll be in my thoughts as well! Love you, too!”

            Anya was right; it really did suck we weren’t together as I hope it resonated inside of her to make it a reality. How could the life of her kids be any worse, if her life was so much better and less stressful? I wasn’t convinced they received the best mom as long as she stayed with Jackson. They only got an older, less efficient version of her, like an older, less efficient version of operating system software that couldn’t function properly with new computer programs that required more memory. I couldn’t believe the well-being of her kids could possibly be intact without her well-being intact as well. The universe played its hand and relied on me to find a way for her to trust in the stars now.

             On the day of the symposium, I coordinated with Kevin that morning, as we agreed to take separate cars and meet there at seven sharp. When Clyde entered my office, I hoped he offered me a last-minute chance to back out, but he only wanted to make sure I knew the symposium was “tonight”. Later that afternoon, while on my lunch break, I texted Anya.

ME: “Missing you.”

ANYA: “Missing u too! I miss kissing u!”

ME: “There’s not one thing I don’t miss about you.”

ANYA: “Is it your lunch time? It is beautiful out. Always thinking of u. I love you.”

ME: “My lunch break just ended. It’s a beautiful day. A good day to be at our beach! With each heartbeat, I’m thinking of you. I love you, too.”

            Anya’s simple text snapped me out of my morning funk. Her text gave me a sudden rush of adrenaline as her text made me feel so good to know she missed my lips as much as I missed hers. I couldn’t help but pour my heart out to her every chance I got. I just needed her to know how much she meant to me as I wanted her to feel safe with her feelings. To know without any doubt, I felt the same way, and in a lot of ways, even more. As my day continued on, and I became more stressed as the event was now only a few hours away, the Anya I knew and loved, the one I wanted her kids to know like I did, made an appearance with an uninitiated, out of the blue text.

ANYA: “I love you forever.”

            Even sixteen months after we met, these uninitiated texts of love she sent, could end my darkest moments and destroy any negative thoughts I had about anything; work, mom, and even love. She had a healing power over me I could only describe to be “Jesus-like” as I felt like a man raised from the dead. Why she had that power over me only the universe could have created or known. I felt so hopeless at times, that if things worked out with Anya, how could I further deny the presence of a higher power, if not the Bible’s God? Her love, the way she loved me, and how much it meant to me, made it possible for me to believe in the impossible. For Anya to come into my life and for the good times to feel so good and right, someone or something, must have loved me more than I ever believed they did, even as that same entity tried to take my mother from me. Maybe this was the trade-off? Was Anya brought into my life to soothe the loss of my mother? I needed and wanted both though, not one or the other. These were how my thoughts would go, from the greatest belief to a horrific disbelief.

ME: “You must have read my mind. I love you forever.”

As my workday further crept and neared the early evening hour, Anya sent me some more of herself out of the clear blue.   

ANYA: “Muah!”

            Her unexpected texts filled my heart with happiness at a time I needed her fuel, just before the symposium hosted by the man who denied her the happiness, we both deserved.

ME: “You’re the best, babe. Muah!”

ANYA: “No u r!”

ME: “No, you got me licked!”

            About two hours later, as the clock struck six p.m., an hour away from sharing the same room with Jackson Caiaphas, for the first time since he came by the office almost a year ago, Anya again hit me with her love one more time.

ANYA: “I really miss you.”

ME: “I really miss you too. It’s tough.”

ANYA: “What’s tough?”

ME: “Not knowing when I’ll see you again.”

ANYA: “It is.”

ME: “Wish I could see you this week. Is there a chance I can?”

ANYA: “I would love to but I’m totally swamped babe. Overwhelmed.”

ME: “I totally understand.”

ANYA: “I feel so bad.”

ME: “Don’t feel bad at all, babe! I know you would if you could! Both of your kids were sick and yesterday set you behind the eight ball too. I only have one more week of busy season and a vacation in a few weeks.”

ANYA: “I can’t help it. I’m like a walking guilt!”

ME: “I don’t want you to feel guilty about things out of your control, babe. I understand. I know you would if you could.”

ANYA: “You know I would. R u home now?”

ME: “I actually have a company event tonight after work so I won’t be home until late. What r u up to? Any plans tonight?”

ANYA: “Just finished dinner. I’m supposed to be at Andrew’s game right now but not going. The “witch” is there and not in the mood to go.”

            After I read her text, this was proof she really missed me. A bold move by her, one that would only perturb Jackson to know why she refused to go to their son’s game. Today, I felt a shift; a movement towards me as the universe had lined up all these false “coincidences” perfectly. It seemed she began to realize, after her kids were both sick, how she could use my help and how the extra stress without it seemed unnecessary. My intentions were pure and never said just to get a promise. I’d help her in every way imaginable and stay focused on my career to give her the things she needed to make it a smooth transition, for her and the kids. At this point, I would lose my career without her as her love carried my drive, my focus, and my success. Without her love, I’d lose all I worked so hard for. A power she had I could never reveal to her because she would only feel more guilt. Although I felt it wasn’t unreasonable to feel she should feel obligated to be with me, I didn’t want to make her feel that obligation existed, as I would only have wanted her to be with me because she truly loved me and knew this would all work out for the best.

ME: “Do you mean “witch” or “bitch”? I’m sorry you feel you have to miss Andrew’s game. Wish I could do something to make you feel better so you didn’t have to miss any of his games.”  

ANYA: “Haha! Yup used that word b4! Thank u for ur support. You really love me, don’t you? You really would do anything for me, wouldn’t you?”

Her text message first hit me in the eyes and then touched my heart. Short of killing anyone, unless in self-defense, I would’ve done anything for Anya. Whenever it came a time to show my love for her, fear did not exist within me. If Jackson planned to have me kidnapped, tortured, killed and chopped up, then my fate was predetermined and sealed the night I met her as I was ready to die for her love. Of course, I didn’t want to experience a “Braveheart’ type end to my love story, but with Anya’s love in my heart, I wasn’t afraid to take on the world. As long as she believed in our love, I didn’t care what anyone thought and I didn’t fear the consequences. I’d challenge society’s corrupt belief systems when it came to marriage and its false sense of morality. I would pry open the judging eyes of the ignorant and expose them to a truth they never wanted to face. To see Anya in any pain, to see her struggle, to hear her cry, to taste her tears, was to see, feel, hear and taste all these things from myself, too. Emotionally and spiritually, I connected with her on a level I could not explain nor ever connect the same way with someone again.

ME: “I really love you babe. I’m on your side because I know your heart. I would do anything for you or I would die trying.”

I would have loved to talk to this woman at the baseball games. To bring her stares, rich in hypocrisy, right down to earth so Anya never had to deal with them again. I would have welcomed the chance even more with Jackson in the stands as well so I could bring an awareness to his narcissism. How dare you make your wife come to these games with her here, and allow her to look at her in such a manner. Do you remember you cheated on her with this woman while your wife was pregnant with your second child? Now she has to stomach even more disrespect by you fifteen years later? Why aren’t you taking that woman aside and telling her to grow up? I would tell him. Anya had no idea how badly I wanted a shot to go to bat for her. If I were to sit with her at the games, Anya would have nothing but a good time. That woman would not only no longer have a reason to stare but also no but choice to see her happy. It would actually show her that she did Anya a favor because what was the prize anyway? A chronic philanderer? An abusive narcissist incapable of loving only himself? A person that would only end up doing the same thing to her one day? If Anya wanted revenge, she should have just given Jackson to her. It would have been the greatest form of vengeance in human history. If my role in her life wasn’t enough evidence for Anya to leave Jackson, the fact a fifteen-year-old problem still existed, provided all the evidence in the world why she should leave him. Jackson deserved to be alone with only his political aspirations and career achievements in tow because he simply valued those things more than his wife. This woman’s role at the games had to shout out to Anya from the rooftops that what happened in the past would eventually reappear; no matter how much she tried to forget it. People could always forgive, and they should for their own sake, but if they could never truly forget, then forgiveness could never truly exist. I knew that Anya’s tolerance at the games, she did for the sake of her kids. If she didn’t take care of herself though, and if she didn’t realize she mattered too, she risked not living long enough to be around for her kids. To see them get married, to see them have kids of their own, to see her grandkids grow, and to know they found true happiness.

I arrived at the lavish Caiaphas Property Group’s corporate offices of at seven p.m. as planned. When I made my way inside, at least three hundred people, mostly men dressed in dark power suits, graced the floor of their state-of-the-art conference room. The area we stood in seemed more like an auditorium than a conference room, as the only comparison I could make was when I visited the Los Angeles branch of Ernst & Young, one of the “Big Four” accounting firms, but I think even their room paled in comparison. As I made my way around and grabbed a bruschetta from a waiter who came my way, I couldn’t find Kevin so I began to introduce myself around the room as I met the heads of many real estate management companies I knew, such as SBRE, Allied Partners, and Lakeman-Rushfeld. I then met a woman who introduced herself to me as a Los Angeles City Prosecutor. I then met the gentleman who talked with the L.A. City Prosecutor, who introduced himself as a District Attorney. After these introductions, I had to find a way to politely retreat from the conversation as I couldn’t admit I didn’t know the substance of what they did. After my escape, I then ran into a female Orange County Judge who seemed to be the most popular person at the event who spoke so glowingly of the evening’s host, I almost gagged on my piece of bruschetta. I then made my way toward one of the two stocked open bars as I decided to have a cocktail, the only drink one should ever get at a fully stocked open bar, a long island iced tea, as there was no way they could be cheap with the alcohol. The drink seemed to calm my nerves as I became more social over the next half hour. I then networked with bank executives, public accounting firm partners, doctors and even a congressman who made the event.

As I met all these people with so many highly regarded backgrounds, I couldn’t believe Anya arranged this entire affair. It convinced me she had to have known these people on some level, even the ones I networked with. Although they never mentioned her and only praised Jackson, it made me feel better to know they didn’t associate the two of them. With this alcohol rich drink now in my system though, I doubted my heart could handle their names being mentioned in the same breath as the scene made me feel far less than adequate that she knew all these people in such high places. Although I knew her in a way they never did, I grew concerned if she ever planned to leave if these people made up most of the seventy-five percent of friends she stood to lose. Would she have ever risked the loss of these hard to obtain business contacts and all their potential money if she left Jackson? As I walked the room further, and had not yet seen Jackson Caiaphas, I suddenly came across Kevin Kash, who I couldn’t tell had been here or just arrived.

“How long have you been here, Land?” he asked me before I could pose the question to him.  

“About a half an hour or so.” I said. “I thought this presentation started at seven, but the program says eight.”

“I thought so too.” Kevin responded. “It’s what Clyde told me. Be there at seven.”

“Have you been here since seven?” I asked. “I didn’t see you.”

“Yeah, but I ran into Jackson so we talked for a little bit.”

“How’s the audit coming?” I asked as I tried to ignore their camaraderie.

“It’s going good.” he said with a slight tone of condescension. “He has some subsequent events so I’m reviewing their note disclosure and it’s taking some extra time to wrap.”

“You look sharp, Kev. Oh wow.” I said as I saw his wrist. “Is that…if that a Rolex?”

“Why yes, it is.” He said as he showed it to me as it’s band and unmistakable face glistened in the lights. “It’s actually courtesy of Mr. Caiaphas.”

“Really?” I asked. “He bought you that?”

“No, but he only put me in touch with someone who gave me a nice discount.” he explained. “Please keep it between us though.”

“Sure thing. Of course.” I said as I thought nothing of it.

At eight, we were instructed to find our seats as we both opted to sit together in last row of seats. There was a podium set up at the front of the room with the CPG logo upon it. As I looked in front of us there seemed to be more people than I initially believed were here. It appeared to be standing room only as several people stood behind us. I watched as so many people in the room came in admiration and wonder--when one only came with knowledge and truth. I felt completely out of place as I tried to fit in among the many admirers. The event, was both uncomfortable and bittersweet, but I found it hard to regret my attendance. If I hadn’t made the perfect pitch, I would’ve never been in line for the promotion to partner, and never been in the position to provide Anya with the financial security she needed to leave. I attended the event for the firm; not for myself. If I had the choice, I’d be at home, in front of my computer, memorializing about how much I missed the non-present, but ubiquitous, event’s organizer. I sat there in quiet contemplation and waited for a man who I despised as a husband, and as politican, to address and con us all. Although I felt there was nothing wrong with that, as the room was filled with people who did the same exact thing.

When Jackson strode up to the podium, in a dark suit, red tie and mouth piece, he was drowned in a downpour of applause. The admiration and show of respect continued for another two minutes as some people felt obligated to rise from their seats to pay tribute, something I didn’t quite understand. It’s not like he was the POTUS, or he cured world hunger or saved the California Condor from extinction or even a decent husband. He was just a commercial real estate buyer, seller and landlord, and at best, an aspiring politician, not worthy of dignified air.  Thankfully, Kevin stayed in his seat, grounded, I believed out of respect for my situation, a nice gesture by him. Jackson then fiddled with the mouth piece and his tie before he asked us how we were doing and thanked us for coming. I knew Kevin had to attend this event to ensure the subsequent events note for disclosure was complete in order to wrap up the financials, but my role still remained unclear, as maybe this was another part of the universe’s plan for me.

“As you all know we are seeing a market decline this year. A decline we expect to continue for the short duration after such unprecedent economic growth in our country’s history.” Spoke Jackson Caiaphas as the lighting above him changed to a light blue hue. He then pulled a small remote control from a pocket on his suit jacket as a large screen behind him began to come down. “How will the real estate market be affected? Will the commercial real estate market suffer along with the residential? We don’t know the answer yet, but we have to be prepared for the worst. In a possible ‘knee jerk’ response to the real threat of a long-term recession, I’ve had to lay off several of my people over the last several months. People that have worked for me for many, many years. Although there were painful decisions to make, the triggered needed to be pulled if we’re to survive this recession. My buildings are operating at ninety seven percent occupancy on the average, let me repeat that…ninety seven percent. I have also negotiated many long-term leases, most of them twenty-year commitments, that run well past the year two thousand twenty-five. We know this doesn’t guarantee our tenants will stay in business and be able to pay their rent, however it does provide a steady stream of income for us. With the help of our new audit firm. KSR, we were able to identify and attain tenants with strong cash positions so we feel we’ve minimized the risk of bankruptcy for the new leases we’ve entered into. This should put us in the position most commercial real estate firms won’t be able to do during this recession; to expand. This strategy should allow us to further expand our portfolio of commercial real estate properties faster than the competition. With my superior vision, construction is currently underway on three brand new office buildings in the heart of Orange County in the city of Irvine. Now while I am most confident about our survival during this recession, I can’t say the same for our competition. Therefore, I’ve identified several commercial real estate properties for acquisition and have even made several offers to buy existing properties that are now falling along the wayside. I estimate CPG will soon own and run essentially seventy percent of the total commercial real estate market in southern California within the next three years. To capitalize on this forecasted success of CPG, I’ve engaged in talks with several investment bankers to take the Company public by early next year.”

Palms upon palms blasted in front and behind me as Jackson relayed this news. I loved the corporate world and over my years as a public accountant, I learned most corporate owners and leaders were misunderstood human beings. That most people who thought they were greedy just wasn’t a true assessment of them at all. They led me to side with the wealthy, and despise the ones who envied them, but Jackson Caiaphas was what gave their envy teeth, and what made CEO’s seem like the bad guys. What people perceived as great news and I perceived as a lack of loyalty to the people who helped get him to where he was. As he negotiated long-term leases with companies who had great liquidity that protected his firm during a recession, he still decided to discard people? He basically admitted he didn’t need to let go of the people that got him this far and further planned to buy more properties so he could do the same thing? As I pondered the depth of his narcissism and greed, he then discussed the commercial real estate market outlook and other related industry news, but I was too disgusted to pay attention to it. I shot a glance over at Kevin, as he appeared intrigued and content to buy what everyone else did; that Jackson Caiaphas was only worthy of admiration and not condemnation for his vision. I couldn’t help but think that if Anya left Jackson to be with me, no matter how much he abused her, I would be the one viewed with consternation by mostly everyone, and not him. That society would hold in contempt the man who truly cared people, and not the man who used the lives of people like pieces on a worn chessboard. After he rambled about the market crisis and how long he thought it would last, he saved his biggest announcement for last.

“Now, on a bit of a side note, I have a big announcement to make.” he said. “After spending my last seven years as a commissioner for the California State Assembly. Where I’ve had the honor and privilege of working with the state’s finest human beings. I am announcing tonight that I will be making a run as member of Congress and for a seat on the House of Representatives in two thousand ten!”

Cheers and aah’s filled the room, as once again, at least six hundred strong stood up to applaud Jackson’s announcement. Since Kevin stood, I did as well, and when he saw me stand, he turned to me.

“You have no idea how huge this is for KSR.” he said. “This will really get the firm into a market place outside of California. Our soon to be first SEC client!”

“It’s huge, for sure.” I said. “But I don’t know if the firm wants to deal with the risk associated with SEC clients.”

“Think about it, Land. Especially with us in a recession.” he said. “This should help cover any audit clients we lose.”

“We’ve been in a recession and really haven’t lost any business, though.” I pointed out. “Our current clients will still need to be audited, or at least reviewed and have their tax returns prepared.”

“Didn’t you hear Jackson’s speech? He said mortgage banks are going to be the hardest hit.” he said. “Mortgage banks make up about fifty percent of our audit and tax business. They won’t need to be audited or have tax returns done if they go bankrupt.”

 “There are other industries out there though.” I countered. “I think we can find a way to find new business in different industries to stop the bleeding.”

“Only if there’s not too much blood lost, Land.” Kevin remarked.

I nodded in agreement as I forced myself to watch Jackson soak in all the adoration and support he received. I couldn’t help but be disturbed by it all. Why didn’t Anya tell me about these people? Why didn’t she tell me what I truly faced? I didn’t just face her kids; I faced a herd of sheep as well. As I tried to stem the tide of negativity, Jackson hit me with a shot to the heart.

“My wife couldn’t be here this evening. She is home tonight with our two sick kids; Katie and Andrew.” he informed the contingent. “Of course, without my wonderful wife, and family I wouldn’t be where I am today. I wouldn’t be the perfect husband if I didn’t mention that  in less than three months from today, my lovely wife of mine, my best friend and life partner, will be celebrating sixteen beautiful and glorious years together on June twentieth.”

As cheers paraded around us, Kevin looked at me in doubt as I returned his observance without a word to say. I saw the watch upon his wrist, and although Jackson only directed him to a discount, I feared he bought Kevin in a way, enough to believe the things he said. The same way he bought everyone else in the room, but me. The one person he could never buy. The one person he could never fool.

“He’s a good father.” I said to Kevin as I leaned into his ear so no one around us could hear.

Kevin nodded and smiled as he continued to stand and applaud. I then decided to sit back down in rebellion as my rampant negative thoughts couldn’t be drowned out by the applause. I came here for information about the direction of the real estate market. I even took some notes for any future audits and reviews so we had a better understanding of the industry and the trends the industry operated in, including all possible risks and uncertainties. I also came here to network, but I never came here to be a part of a political rally--yet here I was, surrounded by people who would hate me to know how much I despised him for what he stood for.

The rest of the night seemed to go in slow motion as I continued to network and fuel our firm’s growth as Clyde relied on me to get a number of new contacts. By the end of the night, and although I struggled throughout with my emotions, I picked up at least fifty business cards, and at least five new client leads. When Jackson’s self-gratification ceremony finally came to its conclusion, I had only one thing left to do before I left; the thing Clyde expected me to do; I had to personally thank and say goodbye to Jackson Caiaphas.

As I tried to fulfill my final task of the evening, I watched a group of people converge on Jackson, and then stayed back until they filtered out. I guess since Kevin talked to him beforehand, he felt he could leave our exit to me.

“I have to run, Landyn.” Kevin said. “Sadie wants me home no later than eleven. You comin’ with?”

“I have to stick around.” I said. “Clyde wants me to let him know I was here.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

 “Just going to give him a quick “congratulations.”” I said. “Then run like hell out of here.”

“Does his wife know that you know him?”

“Not at all.”

“You haven’t told her? How come?” he asked.

“I eventually will’ Kev. The opportunity really hasn’t presented itself yet to tell her.” I said. “Besides, she never told me about who he was and his entourage so I think it evens out. I don’t want to worry her about something else anyway. She already has enough stress in her life as is.”

“Are you in the office tomorrow?” 

“I’ll be there.” I said.

“Okay. See you there. Have good night, bud.”

“You too.”

As Kevin exited, I turned my attention back to the front of the room, where only a handful of people stood with him. I then sat in an open chair about fifty feet away from the podium, with my eyes on the notes I took, chicken scratch I’d have to type out on Word when I returned to the office in the morning. Ten minutes later, with only two people near him, I began to approach. As I did, his eyes shifted to me and then looked away to return them to the people before him. I stood there and waited patiently until the last person finished their conversation with him, and only the two of us remained in the entire room, somehow by strange design. He then turned to face me, in a manner that made it seem he waited all night for this interaction. When I extended my hand to him, he met mine with a solid grip. I kept my eyes in his even as our hands separated and smiled as I spoke.

“Congratulations on your announcement. I’m certain you will do very well in your bid for a seat in Congress next year.” I said. “Thank you very much for inviting us. All of us at KSR look forward to seeing the continued success of CPG and your upcoming IPO.”

“Thank you.” he responded with a crooked grin.

“Well, you have a good night, Mr. Caiaphas. Thank you, again.” I said as I turned around to walk away.

“Please try to do the same…Mr. Lastman.” he said as I felt his eyes burn through the back of my head.

When I looked back at him in surprise, our eyes met yet again. For the first time, he got my name right. Not “Landman” but “Lastman” and that’s when I knew, he knew I was in a relationship with his wife. I then thought about all the things he did to hurt the woman I loved. The woman I adored. The woman who deserved to only be loved, honored, respected and never shamed. All the reasons why she encouraged and allowed me to be a part of her life. I then thought about the pain I went through every night because of Anya’s pain, recalled all the times she cried and even Katie’s letter. I thought of his his lack of character and integrity, as his look told me he thought I was the one who lacked those qualities, and not him. I wanted to say something so bad. All the things that boiled inside of me, but here I was, on Company time, handcuffed and bound as a professional and pending partner of a firm that his business helped build. The symposium an event to prove his greatness to me, and he wanted me in attendance, a witness to it all to discourage me to continue to give Anya the love she deserved. I felt certain he felt the same disgust and validation I did, as we tried to gauge each other and what we both knew. This event was planned, without a doubt, to put an end to Anya and I. To make me aware of his power and all I was up against, but he also exposed the power I held over him; the truth of his character, and I refused to give him what he hoped for. I couldn’t help but revel in the fact, that his plan backfired on him. That after all the times he chose to disrespect me, when he didn’t care enough to get my last name correct because in his mind it was never worth knowing. Out of all the last names he knew in this world, it was mine he would never forget for the rest of his life.

I nodded at him then walked out.