Tessa's Escape to Athena's Ground (17 page)

-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.

Tessa thought about sweet, funny David and his trip across the planet because he thought she was in distress. How could she not be willing to travel across the globe to offer him a fresh start? The question was whether he’d take it. She pulled her laptop to the table and booted it up. In twenty minutes she had all the arrangements made, thanks to the magic of the internet. She logged in to the hotel’s intranet and sent the documents to the printer at the concierge’s desk. She’d pick them up when she finished. But what were the right words, the last David might be willing to hear from her? She wrestled with the words in her head, and her heart, and finished:

If you believe I have not been truthful, you have given me all I deserve by reading this letter. If you believe I’ve been honest but you can’t get past the sex therapy, then I thank you for your dear friendship and wish you well finding that special lady you seek. But David, if you believe me and accept my truth without judging me harshly for it, perhaps we can explore whether there’s an ‘us’ in our future. I do so hope there is, and console myself with what one great writer once said. I don’t remember it exact, but Pearl S. Buck once spoke of sorrow, saying it can grow into wisdom which can bring happiness, even if it doesn’t bring joy. I hope my Athena’s Ground experience, which has brought me wisdom and both of us sorrow, will eventually bring us both joy.

Enclosed is my invitation to explore “us.” Perhaps underneath our current sorrow lies that joy we both seek. I so want us to find out, and hope to see you there.

Tessa

Tessa glanced at Russell, who had flopped over on his stomach, still sound asleep. She threw on the hotel’s oversized robe and a pair of shoes and slipped out the door. The concierge collected her printouts and Tessa was back in the room before Russell knew she had gone.

-38-

“Russell,” Tessa said, shaking his shoulder, “wake up.”

It was seven o’clock and Tessa had been showered and dressed for an hour. She’d done her hair and makeup. Everything about her—from her chic white jeans to her sophisticated up-do—screamed class, with a hint of glamor.

Russell opened his eyes to Tessa, who was leaned over him, staring intently.

“You look beautiful,” he said, stretching and coming awake. “Any man who didn’t desire you is nuts. But isn’t it a little early to start casing David’s hotel lobby?”

“I was just wondering whether I’m too late. Come on, get up.”

He smiled. “In case you hadn’t noticed, I am.” Tessa followed his eyes to the bulge in his underwear. “I said you were desirable and I cannot tell a lie.”

“Shower!” Tessa said. When Russell’s bulge twitched, she added, “And make it a cold one.”

While Russell got ready, so did Tessa. She read her letter to David, for the tenth time. She thumbed through the printouts, obsessively rechecking details. Everything was in order. Everything was a mess.

With his hair still wet from the shower, Tessa drug Russell out the door. “Breakfast?” he said, as Tessa pulled him past the hotel coffee shop and onto the street.

“I’m assuming there will be a coffee shop in or near David’s hotel. Perhaps you can hang out there while I camp out in the lobby.”

Apparently that satisfied Russell’s rumbling belly. They got into his car and he pulled out of the parking lot, accelerating quickly but not quite peeling rubber. Tessa smiled. The way to a man’s heart—and his expedient adherence to a schedule—really was through his stomach.

The Randal had a small lobby marketers would describe as “intimate” and only one elevator bank. She was grateful. There was little chance David could slip past her.

“There’s a little café two doors down, on the right as you exit. I’ll be there if you need me,” Russell said. “When I’ve had some breakfast, I’ll bring you something to eat. Any requests?”

“Coffee and a muffin or croissant,” Tessa said. Her stomach was too tense to eat much, but she knew she’d need something.

There were only three small groupings of chairs in the lobby. Each group offered a couple of reasonably comfortable chairs and a small coffee or end table. Tessa took a chair with a good view of the elevators and registration desk.

Time passed slowly. It felt like Russell had been gone hours, not minutes, when he returned with a cup of coffee and a buttery croissant stuffed with bits of ham and cheese. “I’ll watch for David if you need to use the ladies room,” he said, setting Tessa’s breakfast on the end table next to her chair.

“I’m good, thanks.” But his offer brought up something she hadn’t considered. The presence of ‘the other man’ would only aggravate David, so having Russell hang out with her in the lobby wasn’t an option. But she couldn’t sit for hours and hours without food and bathroom breaks. “I don’t think it would be smart to have you wait with me.”

Russell nodded.

“But if David sleeps in, I could be here quite a while. I might need some more food and a bathroom break or two.”

“Not a problem. Hand me your cell phone.” As he entered his name and cell phone number in Tessa’s phone, he suggested she text him if she needed a break or had a problem.

“Where will you be?” Tessa’s earlier confidence was gone, her face pale and eyes dark.

“Within a quick walk. You text and I’ll come running.”

Tessa munched on her croissant and sipped coffee. An hour that felt like ten passed before she recognized the person emerging from the elevator. Her heart beat as if a wild bird was trapped inside her chest. She stepped up to David, whose back was to her as he studied a rack of tourist brochures.

“David, can we talk for a few minutes?”

David turned around to face her, and for a second Tessa thought he would run. “I think I said everything I needed to last night.”

“You may have, but I didn’t.” Tessa gently touched his hand, and he pulled it away. “Sorry.”

All the beautiful words Tessa thought she had committed to memory were gone. As she stood before David, and the pain and anger on his face, all she had was what remained in her heart.

“I care about you. The last thing I want is to cause you pain, but I did, and for that I am deeply, deeply sorry.”

David stared, but didn’t respond. Tessa thought she should be grateful he wasn’t running or screaming, but something about cold silence made everything feel even worse.

“What you saw last night wasn’t what you think.”

He raised his eyebrows like she’d just told him the sun didn’t rise from the east.

“Well, it was what you think, but not why you think.” Damn! Where were those beautiful words now? She searched his eyes, hoping for a spark of sweet David, but only saw sparks. She said the only thing she could, the unvarnished truth: “What you saw last night was me preparing for a visit from my sex therapist. A therapist, David, not a lover. None of the traditional talk therapists I saw in New York helped. I was desperate. I didn’t want to try suicide again, but my life sucked and I knew something drastic had to happen.”

“And Russell is Mr. Drastic?”

Well, at least he’s talking to me now,
Tessa thought.

“Yes.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Call him.” Tessa pulled out her cell phone. “Ask him what his relationship is to me.” She held her phone out to David.

He hesitated, and then took the phone.

“Contact list, under Russell.”

David found the list and tapped the contact.

“Tessa?” Russell’s voice. “Is something wrong?”

Tessa leaned close to the phone and spoke loudly and clearly. “I’m okay Russell. I give you permission to answer truthfully and fully every question you’re about to be asked. In fact, I beg you to.” She nodded at David and said, “Ask whatever you like.”

David looked uncomfortable but determined. When he spoke, he sounded like one alpha male growling at another.

“How do you know Tessa?”

“She is a client.”

“What kind of client?”

“I am a professional sex therapist. She is my client in that regard.”

“So you’ve had sex with her?”

“That is the goal of a sex therapist, among other things.”

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Russell hesitated. Tessa leaned into the phone and, again, waived her right to confidentiality.  When Russell remained silent, she pleaded, “Please tell David everything he wants to know.”

Russell cleared his throat. “Yes, we’ve had sex.”

“What personal connection do you have with her?”

“None. She is a client.”

“When she leaves Australia, will you see her again?”

“Only if her counselor in New York believes it is therapeutic and only if Tessa wishes it. If that were to happen, Tessa would come to Australia for a limited number of sessions, as appropriate.”

David stared at the phone, temporarily out of questions. Suddenly his eyes lost their fire and his face softened. “Did you help her?” he asked.

“That’s a question best answered by her. I think it would be an excellent one for you to ask.”

David ended the call and handed Tessa her phone. “That could have been a setup, something your lover agreed to do to get you out of trouble with me.” His words were serious, but did not sound harsh.

“It could have been. But it wasn’t.” Tessa held out the envelope in her hand. “I spent hours last night on this. Between crying and writing, it was quite the evening.”

David didn’t say anything.

“After last night, you owe me nothing, except a chance for me to tell you the truth. I wrote down everything—my truth—and I ask you, I beg you, to at least read this. You can rip it to shreds and set it on fire when you’re finished, if you want to. But please, if I’ve meant anything at all to you, please, just read it.”

Tessa inched the envelope closer to David’s closed hand.

“Any time today or tomorrow. After that…” she shrugged her shoulders.

David’s fingers uncurled and he took the envelope. “I’ll read it. But don’t count on my trust. Or forgiveness.”

Tessa nodded, blinking away the tears that began to cascade down her cheek. Before her tears turned into a flood, she turned and walked into the Sydney sunshine.

-39-

DECEMBER 31
st

Tessa was nervous. It was twenty-two minutes after four o’clock. The sun was low in the sky, and it would officially set in another twenty-seven minutes. It would be the last sunset of the year, the pivotal moment that paved the way for the next 365 sunsets.

After saying a sweet goodbye to Russell—how many days ago?—she boarded her Quantas flight, and re-boarded her connection in Singapore and re-boarded again in Doha, and landed in Rome’s Fiumicino Airport almost thirty hours after she stepped on the first plane in Sydney.

She’d arrived in Rome the day before, December 30
th
, but had resisted the urge to come here until now. She’d refused to give into temptation and check the airline and hotel, though she ached to do so. And she’d dodged the clawing fear that David was back in Chicago, wishing he’d never heard of Tessa Donovan. She forced herself to make this moment, the last sunset of the year, the moment of truth.

Tessa looked at her watch, 4:29; the air was chill with the approach of sundown, and damp with the rain that had fallen earlier. But the unfriendly air didn’t keep Romans and visitors off the streets. It was New Year’s Eve. When she’d asked the concierge at her hotel for directions he had wondered why she wasn’t going to the big celebration at Piazza di Popolo. Tessa had told him she hoped to meet someone at the Trevi Fountain at 4:49, official sunset.

“
Three Coins in the Fountain
,” her concierge said, laughing. “Americans!”

Tessa’s lips had smiled, but her eyes had not. The concierge noticed.

“Oh. Not sure he will come?”

Tessa nodded.

“You came all the way from Australia. You are a beautiful woman. Of course he will come! After you meet, embrace, do what young lovers do, go to the party at the Piazza di Popolo and bring in the New Year with a full heart.”

Italians. Could they be any more romantic or optimistic?

Tessa clutched the bottle of Chianti.
You bring the Chianti
, David had once said in an email,
and I’ll get the pizza
.

4:32 and no David. Of course, he still had time. Didn’t he?

Maybe she hadn’t been completely clear on her invitation. She searched her mind to recall exactly what she’d written.
Sunset, 4:49, at the Trevi Fountain
. Nothing unclear about that.

Tessa strolled around the fountain edge, dodging children and grandparents and young couples holding hands.

4:41 and still alone amongst a throng of people.

Maybe something was wrong with the airline ticket she’d purchased him. She didn’t want to tie him down to a specific flight, so she’d bought an open ticket for the highest published fare. It should have covered any Quantas flight. Maybe all of them were full.

Tessa groaned, out loud, at the foolish excuses her mind was concocting. It was 4:48 and David wasn’t coming. Not because he had problems with the airplane ticket. Not because the invitation wasn’t clear. A tear slipped from her eye and she juggled the Chianti bottle to wipe it away.

4:49. 4:53. 4:55.

David wasn’t coming.

There was no ‘us.’ Not even the possibility of one.

The rain started again and Tessa reached for the hood on her slicker. As she juggled the wine and the jacket, her cell phone chirped.

“Who’s texting me now,” Tessa said, dropping the hood of her slicker and reaching for her phone. It would be
Happy New Year!
from the girls in the office or her exercise partner from the gym. She’d have to text back the same, and the thought annoyed her. Pretending you’re fine when you’re not is a bitch.

The text turned out to be a photo. There were no words, just a picture of two pizza boxes.

“What?” Tessa said.

Tessa stepped out from the clutch of people at the fountain edge and scanned the crowd. She looked up, towards Quirinale Palace and down along Via delle Muratte.

You bring the Chianti and I’ll bring the pizza
, Tessa remembered from an old email.

“David?” she screamed at the top of her voice. His name sounded like a sob. “Are you here?”

A million people surrounded the Fountain, and only one mattered.

Tessa began plowing through the crowd, twisting her head from right to left. Searching for a glimpse of the man she didn’t want to lose.

“David!” she screamed, so loudly a little boy next to her put his hands over his ears. “Where are you?”

“Right behind you.”

Tessa whirled around. In front of a face were two pizza boxes. The boxes lowered slowly, inch by inch, to reveal damp brown hair, sparkling blue eyes, and a smiling, sensual mouth.

“I didn’t know what kind you’d want,” he said, jiggling the pizza boxes, “so I got two. It took longer than I expected.”

Tessa threw her arms around him, crushing both boxes between their chests. Her words were swallowed by huge, ragged sobs.

“I don’t know where this will go,” David said, his lips pressed against Tessa’s ear. “But I’m committed to finding out.”

Tessa pulled back to face him. At the Trevi Fountain, in the fading moments of the last sunset of the year, she pressed her lips against his and kissed David as softly as the gentle rain falling around them.

David accepted her kiss. Then h
e pulled away, wiped the single tear that had formed in his eye, and returned to Tessa’s lips with a kiss of his own. To Tessa, it tasted of pain and forgiveness, passion and patience and, most of all, hope.