I wanted to tell her everything. I wanted to open up and let someone heal me. But I had done that once before and it didn't solve jack shit. It didn't cure me, it didn't make the voices go away, and it definitely hadn't helped me in calming the storm within. In fact, it had done the exact opposite. I found that I was exactly the same person I was before I opened up. The only difference was there was another person to look at me with pity in their eyes. I didn't want that. I didn't want anyone's fucking sympathy.
"Without going into details, I can say that I empathize with your ex. You're right; people cannot witness that kind of violence and hatred without somehow being affected. But you can't save me. I've dealt with this … darkness inside of me for twenty-six years. I fucked up the other night; I can admit that. But that was the only time I've ever done something like that. I know that's no consolation to you, and I know it doesn't take back what was done, but it's the truth. I understand your worry of what might happen to me if it happens again, but it won't. I should have never called you that night. I knew I was beyond consolation. I only needed something to take my mind away from the proverbial black hole. And it should have never been you. I'm truly sorry for that."
Her fingernails traced the edge of my jaw and a sad smile formed on her lips.
"I understand if you won't accept my phone call next time. It's my fault."
She placed her finger over my lip to quiet me. "I'm not saying goodbye, Cade. That's not why I came here today. I also had no intentions of telling you how badly you hurt me; I could see it on your face that night how much it bothered you. I knew it wasn't intentional and you aren't that kind of person. My ex had nothing left in his eyes when he had gotten to that point. I still see something in yours. There's still life in there. The only thing I care about is making sure that life doesn't burn out. So, if you decide to call me the next time you need me, when you're not angry, I will answer. I'm not giving up on you. Not to mention, the sex is really good. I don't want to have to go looking for someone who can give it as good as you do. Just promise me that if you feel that cornered again, you'll call me to talk. Nothing else. Only to talk."
I nodded in agreement, even though I did not intend to keep that promise. However, I was extremely thankful she wasn't kicking me to the curb. I had a feeling I would need her more than ever since I was about to see Ivy for the fourth time in one week. I needed to get laid, and hopefully Alyssa would help me out with that.
*****
When I told Ivy to dress as she saw herself, I was not expecting to see her wearing what she was. Her jeans were tight, much like the pants I had seen her in every other time, but they were jeans with rips and tears in the thighs and knees. Her tank top was much like the others, baggy, but it was dressier than the casual ones she had worn before. Her long blond hair was down and straight, tucked neatly behind her ears. As she stepped into the car, I noticed she was even wearing heels. I certainly hadn't been expecting that.
"For someone who never goes out, you don't dress like it," I said as I backed out of her parking lot. Again, as I pulled in to pick her up, she was already outside waiting. It brought up the same question I had before, if she really lived there or not.
I finally looked over at her after she never responded. Her cheeks were red, but I couldn't tell if that was makeup or embarrassment. It made me notice her eyes, and for the first time since meeting her, she was actually wearing real makeup. Not the kind girls put on to go clubbing, but the kind they wear when going on a date. The kind that enhances their features.
"I just bought the outfit today," she admitted while looking down at her hands. She was shifting nervously in her seat.
"Why? I told you to wear something that showed who you are."
"No, you told me to look as I do in my mind. If I close my eyes and picture what I would look like if I had a life, this is how I'd look. I just don't wear these kinds of clothes normally because I have no place to wear them."
Her words produced a need to find more reasons to take her out. If she needed a reason to look like that, then I'd find many reasons. It was just going to be one more vision I'd see as I showered-Ivy looking like a rock-goddess in ripped jeans and heels.
"Well, you look very nice."
"Thank you." She blushed and I knew it wasn't the makeup that time.
"But before we get there, we need to talk about something. You told me yesterday that you paid for sex both times. I not only need to know why, but I need to know you won't do that again. I need for you to realize how dangerous that is." It had been something that I had been worrying about. What if she tried that again and something happened to her? Hadn't she heard about the Craig's List Killer?
"It's no different than what I'm doing with you," she argued.
"Yes it is. I'm a licensed professional. You're not paying me to have sex with you. You're paying me to help you. So that you can work through your issues regarding sex in order for you to have it. Hopefully, without paying for it. It's not the same at all."
"And that's exactly why I paid them. I wasn't searching for someone simply to have sex with. I needed someone that wouldn't judge me. That would sleep with me and I wouldn't have to worry about running into them again. I had sex with them to get over my issues. Not for pleasure or because I wanted it. I was trying to do what you're doing, but all on my own."
I had no words. Doing the math in my head and trying to figure her out all at once, I realized that she lost her virginity eight years ago. She had paid someone however much money to take her virginity because she was so desperate to get over the fear of being looked at or touched. After that, as long as she was telling me the truth about it, it had taken her another six years before she tried it again. The first time must have been traumatic because as far as I knew, she hadn't attempted it again during the six-year span between the two times. And that had been two years ago.
"So you paid for sex twice. Were there any other times you tried or maybe got close but didn't go all the way?" I wondered.
She shook her head but then quickly answered verbally. "No. It wasn't that I didn't want to. It's not that I don't want to have sex. I get the urges; I simply don't act on them. The last time was enough of a reminder why I shouldn't."
"What do you do when you get the urges?"
"Nothing."
"Nothing? As in you don't even touch yourself?"
I noticed her body stiffen beside me.
"No, I don't even do that," she answered quietly.
I wanted to tell her so much. I wanted to tell her that it was okay to masturbate. That it was a completely normal human reaction. But it wasn't the time or place for that. I made a mental note to add it to the plan. It was something she would have to be comfortable with before she could ever be okay with letting anyone else touch her.
"What happened the last time? You said it was enough of a reminder to keep you from doing it again. What happened?"
"I don't want to tell you. It's embarrassing and disgusting." Her voice was quiet and I had to strain to hear what she said.
I waited until I was stopped at the red light in front of the restaurant before turning and looking at her. She was looking out the window, staring off in space. "You can tell me. I need to know these things. I won't embarrass you or make you feel uncomfortable. This is my job, Ivy." I tried to make my voice sound professional and solid, even though what I wanted to do was plead with her to trust me. I knew how to do this, though. I knew that patience was key. She would get better and more confident. We just had to start slow.
"Fine. I threw up."
I should have spent an extra second before responding, but I didn't. "Like during the act or after?"
"During … kind of." She took in a deep breath before continuing. I could tell I had embarrassed her and I felt bad about it, but the need to know had overshadowed any embarrassment I had caused. "I had all of the lights out, hoping that would help, but then he started touching me and it didn't matter that it was pitch black or not. I jumped up and ran to the bathroom."
"And you still had sex with him?"
"Yes. I told him I had cancer and just started chemo. And that was why I was paying for sex because I needed something to make me feel better about it." She looked at me and must have seen the puzzled look on my face because she said, "I read it in a book."
"Should have known," I said with a laugh, hoping it would lighten the mood. I pulled into the parking lot and waited until the conversation was over before turning the car off. "How was the actual sex part?"