Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121054 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 605(@200wpm)___ 484(@250wpm)___ 404(@300wpm)
Shame shocked through me like electricity. My fingertips tingled, and my heartbeat sped up. I would never be able to grasp the enormity of the violation he’d experienced; Neil would never rip apart my trust and abuse my body. I would never have to go through the fear and betrayal that he’d experienced, and I’d lectured him on how to feel?
Now, I couldn’t even think of how to apologize without it sounding like I was making it all about me.
Struggling with a way to phrase it, speak it without sounding like I was asking to be excused, I said cautiously, “You’re right. It’s not up to me to tell you how to react to this. I haven’t been respectful to you.”
“No, you haven’t.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. He looked upward and blew out a breath. “At this point, Sophie, all I want is for this to be gone. I don’t want this hanging over me anymore. I don’t want to be afraid, when I’m with Emir, for example. I don’t want to worry that every new partner we’re with could do that to me again. Or do that to you.
“This thing… It’s ruined a part of me. I’ve been talking to Doctor Harris about how to confront that. But I can’t. I can’t acknowledge what Stephen did. It feels like he’s winning. It feels like he’s doing that to me all over again.” His shoulders sagged, and he dropped his arm, all the defensiveness bleeding from his posture. “At the same time, I want him to acknowledge what he’s done. I want… This sounds so contradictory.”
“No, come on. You can tell me anything,” I promised, when it seemed as though he wouldn’t continue.
Neil took a breath. “I want to confront him.”
That did sound contradictory, but I understood. On that score, it was kind of how I felt about my dad. I didn’t want to see him, but I wanted to, at the same time. One part of me wanted to scream and shout and tell him how much he’d hurt me, while another part wanted to go on with my life, pretending he didn’t exist. Yet another part wanted to pretend he didn’t exist, but wanted him to yearn for a relationship with me, so I could reject him. Though our circumstances weren’t the same, I could definitely sympathize with Neil wanting to hide from someone and still wanting to call them out.
I assumed he’d spoken about this to Dr. Harris, so I asked, “What does the doctor have to say about that?”
“That in my present state, I may not be healthy enough for a confrontation to be helpful.” He crossed his arms then dropped them, as though he were unsure of where to place his hands. “I want to see him. I think it’s best for me.”
The thought of Stephen being anywhere near Neil physically sickened me. “You wouldn’t meet him somewhere private, right? You wouldn’t be alone with him?”
“Never,” he said quickly, his eyes widening in terrified disbelief. “Sophie, that would be like you being alone with a spider.”
“I do hate spiders,” I said with a hesitant smile. I didn’t want him to think I was making a joke out of this. “But a spider isn’t going to attack me.”
“You certainly behave as though they will.” His mild good humor faded. “I would be far too frightened to be alone with him. Doctor Harris said that should I insist on going through with the meeting, he would supervise. And I’d like for you to be there.”
Torn between wondering why he would want me there, after the shitty interfering I had done, and wanting to leap for joy that he’d asked for my help, I agreed. “Of course I’ll be there. And, if the time comes, and you change your mind about me going, I’ll understand that, too.”
“I know you will.” He half smiled, the tired expression of a man who’d won the battle, but taken heavy damage. He put his arms out, and I went to him, my chest hurting with the relief I felt at the opportunity to comfort him physically. Hugs wouldn’t solve everything, but I was pretty sure they could make things a little better, at least.
* * * *
Neil contacted Stephen through Dr. Harris. It took some convincing; at one point, Neil considered asking Valerie to intervene. Ultimately, Stephen agreed, and the meeting was set for the first week of August, when he would be in the city for more publicity appearances.
At Dr. Harris’s suggestion, Neil would confront Stephen at the therapist’s office. It would be safer than a restaurant, where alcohol would be far too accessible.
Plus, the doctor could throw Stephen out if things got ugly.
Though Dr. Harris made very expensive house calls, his Manhattan office occupied the first floor of a converted brownstone on the upper west side. We arrived early, and the doctor met us in the waiting room. The walls were a lovely slate gray, with a white ceiling, trim, and crown molding. An elaborate Persian rug in shades of navy, silver, black and muted gold protected the gleaming wood floor.