Tessa's Escape to Athena's Ground(87)
Tessa thought emails were too easy to delete without reading, and too impersonal. “I like the idea of a handwritten note. I’ll figure out what to say tonight and you can drop me at the Randal tomorrow morning. I just hope he doesn’t run the minute he sees me.”
“You won’t be wearing five inch heels tomorrow. You’d catch him.” Russell ruffled her hair. “Whatever happens, you’ll survive this Tessa. Believe that.”
Oh how she wanted to.
-37-
After the David fiasco, Tessa was far too upset to go on as if nothing had happened. Seeing the sex toys on the table made her cringe, so using them was out of the question. Russell drew a hot bath, liberally sprinkled it with scented bath oil, and walked Tessa into the bathroom. “Soak,” he said, “the warm bath will help you relax.” While Tessa soaked, he closed down the sex buffet, turned down the bed, fluffed up the pillows and ordered warm cocoa from room service.
Tessa was touched.
After her cocoa, Russell crawled into bed with her. He held her until her breathing was regular and gentle. He stroked her long hair with his fingers and let her melt into his chest. They fell asleep.
The room was dark when Tessa woke. Russell’s arm was still wrapped around her and he was snoring softly. How things had changed in just twenty-four hours. The first time she woke with him in her bed, she had the urge to write a lonely email to David. And look where that got her.
What could you say to a man who flew across the globe out of concern you might be depressed enough to do something foolish, only to find you decked out like a hooker and talking like a drunken sailor to another man, or at least to someone she thought was another man. Tessa wondered what she could possibly say to David that would make him understand. Shakespeare wouldn’t have the right words. Or Nicholas Sparks. Or even Dr. Phil. How was she supposed to?
Give what you can, ask for what you need.
What she could give was the truth. What she needed was to be heard, and God willing, a chance to see what they might have together.
Tessa slipped out of bed and pulled up a chair at the desk. She took hotel stationary and a pen and began.
David,
You deserve the truth, even though telling it is very difficult. But if I can find a way to tell it, I hope you can find a way to hear it. That’s all I have the right to ask.
Tessa opened her heart and poured it on to the paper. She told David about her paralyzing fear that she was so broken she’d never be able to enjoy a healthy, loving relationship with a man. She described the horror of having that fear confirmed when traditional therapists, one after the other, failed to work for her. She confessed that the only thing that kept her from a second suicide attempt was sheer determination to do anything it took to turn her life around, that nothing was more important to her than finding joy in life and a life partner with which to share that joy. And then she told him about Athena’s Ground, what they did and how they worked.
I will understand if you think my trust in Athena’s Ground is misplaced, she wrote, foolishly given to men who are paid to have sex under the pretense of helping me. From the outside, it would look like that to me. But I’m not on the outside. I’m on the inside, where I know the truth, and it is this: I needed professional sex therapists. I needed them to show me I wasn’t broken. I needed them to open my eyes to the fact that I can be a loveable, passionate woman who can enjoy both love and passion. Oh my God, I needed to know that I was not hopeless. In a short time, they opened my eyes to those truths. I hate that you were hurt. I never imagined you would show up in Australia. But as badly as I ache for causing you pain, my truth is still my truth. The sex therapy was my lifeline, and I cannot apologize for taking it. I can, and dear David I do, apologize that you got hurt in the process. If I could erase your pain, I would.