“Your mom meant a lot to you.”
“Yeah. Dad, too. When I was twelve I got it into my head that I was going to be a fashion designer. So dad converted a spare bedroom into a ‘design studio’ for me. He stocked it like a real working studio, too. Of course, he also expected me to work like a real designer.” Tessa laughed. “But I got even. Every Christmas and birthday, until I was sixteen or seventeen, I gave him my menswear line ‘samples.’ I made some of the most horrible ties and vests ever. They were hideous, and dad wore them to work! In fact, he wore one of my vests, a particularly heinous one, I might add, in his official company photograph one year. The damn thing appeared in the Annual Report and everything.”
“Sounds like a great dad,” Russell said. And then, like the master of conversation that he was, he moved onto another topic, and got Tessa talking about the first time she kissed a boy.
“It wasn’t actually Mark, but it was definitely for Mark’s benefit.”
“Now that’s a picture I can’t wrap myself around.”
“Not like that!” Tessa laughed. “I was a freshman in high school and I had a massive crush on the handsome, athletic older Mark, who was a sophomore. At the frosh/soph spring dance, I manipulated Jerry Dortmeyer into kissing me when I knew Mark was watching. It worked. Mark asked me to dance and we were together from that moment on.”
Russell refilled Tessa wine glass. “It must have been crushing when you discovered the manner in which Mark died.”
Tessa hadn’t seen that one coming, but she should have known the conversation would turn serious at some point. This wasn’t a first date or even a causal dinner with an old friend.
“For years, I blamed myself. If Mark had a passionate wife…” Tessa forced herself to face Russell’s gaze. “I don’t know where I got it. Whether it was from my mom or the church they raised me in or what. But for as long as I can remember, I’ve been very conservative.”
“I take it you’re not referring to politics here.”
“No, I’m not. I’ve never told anyone this, but you’re a good listener, not to mention my therapist—of sorts. My wedding day was the best day of my life. My wedding night, was the worst. I was a virgin and completely overwhelmed. It was awful, not because Mark didn’t try. He did. But he expected me to enjoy sex, the way he did. And I just didn’t.”
“It’s common for women to need a few, shall we say, practice rounds before the game becomes fun.”
“Sure. But the game never became particularly fun for me. I tolerated sex because I owed it to my husband and because I liked the before and after, the sweet cajoling and the falling asleep in his arms.”
“That’s not the Tessa I’ve heard about from Jason and Ben.”
Tessa blushed. “I came to Athena’s Ground because traditional talk therapy wasn’t helping me enough. I had everything on the outside and nothing on the inside. I couldn’t figure out how to fill the emptiness and stop the pain.”
“It drove you to attempt suicide.”
Tessa smiled, but it was a sad one. “It was stupid. The help was out there all along. Instead, I could have died.”
“But you didn’t. And now you’re using your second chance wisely.”