Addicted

Addicted Page 33

Way over in the morning, something happened to me. It was as if something snapped. I woke up, started crying, and ended up in the bathroom with the door shut, crouched down on the floor between the toilet and the bathtub. I didn’t want Jason to hear me wailing like a three-year-old, but I couldn’t hold it in. All I ever wanted was for one man to love me, and he does love me. He has loved me all my life. Whenever Jason and I make love, it is like winning the lottery to me, but at the same time, it almost feels like he is just doing me a fuckin’ favor.

chaptertwenty

“Marcella, I’m totally exhausted!”It wasn’t so much exhaustion as it was stress. I’d been discussing my sex life with her for hours and still hadn’t gotten to thereallydeep part. Not that I was looking forward to revealing that situation at all.

“Zoe, that’s fine. I understand.” I glanced up from the chaise longue at her. She was sitting in the leather wing chair beside it, scribbling away on her notepad. “We’ve covered quite a bit of ground today. We made a lot of progress.”

“Did we?” I asked, perplexed.

“Did we what?”

“Make a lot of progress?”

“Of course! The mere fact that you were able to discuss your problems is a significant breakthrough.” She smiled at me timidly, probably wondering if I was buying into her bullshit. “Like I said, we covered a lot of ground.”

I sat up and rubbed my eyes. They were sore fromshedding so many tears. Half of the time I was talking, I kept my eyes shut so I wouldn’t even have to look at her. I didn’t want to see the disgust on her face. As I readjusted my eyes to the dim lighting in her office, Dr. Marcella Spencer didn’t appear disgusted at all. I knew she had to be hiding it below the surface. She didn’t want me to pick up on her loathing. How could anyone not hate a despicable, cheating, lying, manipulative tramp like me? Even those getting paid to pretend otherwise?

“Yes, we covered a lot of ground, but—”

“But what, Zoe?”

“Do you think you can help me? Honestly? How do I stop this madness when it has taken total control of me?”

“Well, the first thing I should ask is, How do you feel about Quinton and Tyson? Are you in love with either one of them?”

I pondered her question. “I can’t be in love with Quinton or Tyson because I’m in love with Jason.”

“So you don’t feel it’s possible to love more than one man at a time?”

“I care about them both—Quinton more so than Tyson—but it’s not love. They give me things I need. I’ll admit that I’ve become accustomed to being with both of them. I never intended to be with Tyson more than a couple of times, but at this point, I’m with all of them every week. This shit has got to stop. That’s the bottom line.”

“I see.”

Damn, not that “I see” again! “Marcella, can you just answer my previous question? Do you feel as though you can help me get out of this mess?”

She sat up on the edge of her chair, moving in closer to me. “I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. Sexual addiction isn’t exactly my area of expertise.” I wonderedhow far not exactly. “However, there are certain things that apply to all types of addictions.”

She hesitated. The last thing I needed was to be held in suspense. “Such as?”

“Well, are you aware that both alcohol and drug abuse rehabilitation programs work on a multi-step matrix?”

“Excuse me?” I inquired, realizing all hope for a speedy recovery was fading fast. “Are you telling me I need to stop on a gradual basis?”

“Something of that nature, but listen!” She raised her voice an octave, sensing my irritation. She was damn right too. I was mad irritated. “Just like any addiction, it’s extremely hard to go cold turkey on—”

“Umm, hold up a second! Are you telling me I should keep fucking these other people and lying to my husband?”

“Zoe, calm down.” She headed to her desk to get a cigarette. “You just have to relax and hear me out.”

“Calm down, my ass!” I jumped up and started putting on my overcoat. “I can’t freakin’ believe this shit! I finally get the nerve to tell someone about all the fuckedup, backass, conniving shit I’ve been doing! I finally spill my guts about everything, and not to mention pay your ass to let me do it, and this is what I get for my trouble?

You telling me to keep doing it? What do you suggest? To maybe cut back to two sexual trysts a week instead of four? Let Quinton hit it on Mondays and Tyson on Wednesdays, and everybody’s happy?”

Her hand started trembling while she attempted to light the cigarette with her silver-plated lighter. Her ass was just as nervous as I was, and she was supposed to be the expert.“No, not at all Zoe! Iamgoing to help you! Just hear me out!”

I calmed down a little, plopped back down on the chaise, and stared at her.

She retook her seat across from me, inhaling like a mofo. “I have a friend who specializes in sexual addiction. He has a practice down in Florida, and I think he might be able to help you.”

“He?Oh, hell no, this shit just gets thicker and thicker. I can’t discuss this with a man. Men are the cause of all my fuckin’ problems.”

“I understand, but—”

I cut her ass off. “The main reason I came to you is because you’re a female, and I thought, at the very least, you would be able to relate to my situation a little better. But a man can’t begin to relate to the confusion going on in my mind.”

“I understand what you are saying, but—”

“Besides, what am I supposed to do? Tell Jason I’m going down to Florida on a business trip while I go check into some clinic for nymphomaniacs? That shit is out of the damn question.”

“Are you a nymphomaniac?” She asked the question as if she didn’t already know the answer.

I got up and headed toward the door. “What the hell do you think?”

I was halfway to the elevator when she started tugging gently on my coat sleeve. “Zoe, come on back in the office so we can talk some more. Off the clock. We need to settle this. I don’t want you leaving here so distraught. I really want to help you. Why can’t you believe that?”

I tried to get my bearings and prevent my heart from pumping so fast. I sensed true sincerity in her voice as I pressed the call button for the elevator. The next words came out in a normal tone. “Look, Dr. Spencer—”

“Marcella,” she corrected.

“Marcella, I really appreciate you listening to me and fitting me into your busy schedule. I’m truly sorry for snapping at you just now, but all the pressure and stress I’ve been under lately is destroying me.” I started pressing the call button again.

“I can see that it’s destroying you,” she agreed, rubbing my arm. “That’s why you have to let me help.”

I gazed in her eyes, looking for some omen that she was my savior. “No, you can’t help me. No one can. I got myself into this predicament, and I have to get myself out of it.”

“That’s where you’re dead wrong.” I noticed there were beads of sweat gathering on her brow. She was really stressing over my ass. “If you could get yourself out of this alone, you would have already. In fact, you never would have put yourself in this position in the first place if you had an option.”

She had a point, but I still didn’t believe she could improve anything. “The bottom line is this. After all the shit I’ve gone through with Quinton, I’m still fucking him. After all the shit with Tyson and that bitch of his vandalizing my car, I’m still fucking him. There’s nothing that’s going to make me stop, short of Jason finding out and wringing my neck. That’s the truly pathetic part of all this.”

The elevator doors parted. I got on and pressed the button for the lobby level. She prevented the door from shutting by leaning on it. “So what are you going to do now, Zoe? Just continue on your path of destruction?”

I threw my hands up in the air and then started grasping the chrome bar surrounding the inside of the elevator. “Gee, I don’t know what I’m going to do now!” I fought back the tears, determined not to shed another tear in front of Marcella. “I love my husband to death,but maybe, instead of heading home, I’ll go let one of my lovers have their way with me. Who knows?”

She sensed my sarcasm. “Actually, I do know what I’m going to do after I leave here,” I continued. “I’m going to visit my best friend and make sure her ass is all right. I haven’t seen Brina since I insisted on taking her to the emergency room last Saturday. And maybe, just maybe, if she’s not in the middle of another crisis of her own, I’ll ask her to let me cry on her shoulder for a change.”