by Adom Sample
“Do you want dessert?” my mom asked, preparing the chocolate ice cream and fudge cake.
“That’s okay, Mom. I’m all right. I’m full enough as it is.”
My mother stuffed me as she always did. I thought I’d take a little walk on the beach before I slept. I hated sleeping right after I ate. A walk on the beach would do me well. It would help to clear my head, as I didn’t want to live my life as a broken woman. As I said before, the air and the waters brought me nostalgia. That was all I needed at the moment.
Chapter 2
Isabella
After a couple of days talking it over with my mother, I finally caved. I was going to see our family therapist. I couldn’t take her sly suggestions anymore. She inserted them into every conversation we had, and was beginning to annoy me. I walked into the therapist’s building, a tall structure wrapped in glass and nude brick. “May I help you?” said the receptionist.
“Yes. I’m here to see Dr. Sarah Logan.”
A woman emerged from the office behind the receptionist with a welcoming smile. “Are you Isabella Kam?” Evidently, she was expecting me. Thanks mom. I nodded and she extended her hand to me.
“Right this way,” she said. I followed her into her office. The wall behind her desk was covered with degrees and certifications. The setting was quite warm. It made me feel at home.
“Please have a seat, Isabella,” she said, pulling out her chair. I sat on the couch. It was brown, made of leather, and very comfortable. I leaned back and relaxed my head. I could have fallen asleep right there. “Now tell me, what brought you here today?”
I sighed. “My mother thought it would be beneficial for me to seek counseling after my divorce.”
“Oh yes . . . Your mother is Meilin, right? I’ve known her for going on five years. She’s a sweet lady. Now, what about you? Do you think you need counseling?”
I internally rolled me eyes. Was that a trick question? “I don’t know what I need, to tell you the truth. I don’t think I’m losing my mind or anything. It’s just that whenever I think about what my ex-husband, Nathan, did to me, I contemplate hiring a hitman to take him out. Other times, I reflect on some of the great times we had, and I just want to forgive him and take him back. Then I think about the bullshit again, and I want to punch him in the face. It’s like a never-ending cycle of love, pain, and hatred.”
“Have you expressed your feelings to him? You know, for closure.”
“I didn’t get the chance to get it all off my chest before he was arrested, and I’m afraid I may never get the chance since I heard he somehow made bail and fled the country.”
“How long ago was your divorce?”
“It was finalized last week. I haven’t heard from him since I last saw him in court. The last time I had a conversation with him was when I caught him having sex with four other women in our house. The same house we planned to grow old in together. The same damned house where he told me he loved me and would never do anything to hurt me. The same fucking house where he decided to have sex with woman after woman after woman in our bed—in our damn bed!
“With my slut of a cousin, no less! All communication between us since then has been through our lawyers. That son of a bitch, I can’t believe that son of a bitch. I gave him all of me. Everything he could ever want, I gave him without ever asking for anything in return. I just want to wrap my hands around his neck and strangle him.” My blood was boiling and I began to shake.
“It seems like you have a lot of built-up anger, Isabella. If you let him exert this much control over your emotions, then that must mean you still harbor some feelings for him. Do you still care about him?”
“I care to see his flight out of the country burst into flames, if that’s what you mean.”
She smiled. “What I mean, Isabella, is do you still care about him?”
“He was my only since I was eleven years old. We’ve been friends all our lives. I fell in love with him after I graduated from college, and we got married some years after. He’s the only man I have ever known. It’s hard to just let him go after everything we’ve been through, no matter how much he hurt me. I’ve tried to rid my heart of him, but he’s dug in deep. My love for him has turned into a raging hatred that I don’t know how to free myself of.”
“Ask yourself, what has he done to deserve your hatred? Or better yet, what has he done to deserve your love or your thoughts? Then ask yourself, does he deserve all those things? After you’ve reevaluated yourself with those questions, I want you to engage in activities that will help you to cope with the loss and more importantly take your mind off the pain. Your family should prove to be helpful in that area,” she said.
I guessed I should take her advice to heart. She did have some valid points. What had Nathan done to deserve even two thoughts about him, even two seconds of my time dwelling on him? Everything from childhood until now had been nothing but lies, and that prick didn’t deserve my love or my hatred. In fact, he didn’t even deserve a single thought. What he did deserve was to be forgotten and broken. He deserved my indifference, and I would not give him another second of my time or my thoughts or dwell on the pain he caused me.
I was better than that, and I was surrounded by people who loved and cared about me. He may have been my first, but he wouldn’t be my last or my only. I needed to focus on the people who did love me without reservations or doubts.
I certainly didn’t want to return to Dante a broken woman. He deserved so much more and I mustn’t—no, I wouldn’t—allow Nathan to control my emotions. Dante was not Nathan and he never would be. I needed to get it in my head that not every man I encountered would be like him.
***
After forty-five minutes of self-reflection and discussion with this Dr. Logan, my mother picked me up and drove me back home. I looked out the window and wondered what Dante was doing right now. Nathan might occupy my thoughts and feelings of anger, but each time I thought of Dante, all the worry and rage melted away.
He was like a little shining star in the vast darkness of space. Dante filled the hole of brokenness in my heart left by Nathan. I was dying to call him right now; just hearing his soft voice would bring me to my knees. Last month when he was on his way to Panama via Florida, he stopped by to see how I was doing. Even though he sent me a text each week to show his affection hadn’t waned, he still didn’t want to distract me too much, which was why he didn’t stay here long.
I understood his reasoning—he didn’t want to come between me and my recovery. He wanted me to focus on me and me alone without any outside influences, including himself. I stared at my phone for a moment and saw a picture of us. We’d taken this silly little selfie at the airport before I left. Something to remind me of him, he said.
I could never forget his kindness and understanding, which was why every time I checked my text messages, I hoped one of them was from him. He was quite the poet, and his messages always had hidden meaning to them, each containing the many ways he hoped I was doing well and expressing his love for me.
The longer we were apart, the more in love I fell. I couldn’t wait to get back to him so he could hold me in his arms and tell me everything would be all right.
“You’ve been staring at that picture for five minutes now,” my mom said. She looked at me, smiling, only to distract me before snatching the phone out of my hands.
“Hey!” I snapped.
“I can see why you didn’t recognize him. His features are a lot different from when he was a boy. You can tell by his eyes and nose that it’s him though.”
I snatched my phone back and put it in my pocket. “Pay attention to the road before you crash us.” She rolled her eyes at me and affixed her attention back to the road.
“Were you able to get any helpful advice from Dr. Logan?” I gazed out the window and gave a long, relieved sigh.
“Yeah. Yeah, I was.”
Chapter 3
Isabella
I woke up to the chirpi
ng birds and the sea-air breeze as I usually did. My dad’s explanation as to why he hid those letters from me was ridiculous. I couldn’t believe he was so overprotective as to try to block any emotional connection I would have had from my childhood to my college years. It may not have been fair, but I now partially blamed him for my marriage to Nathan.
I had been with my parents for five months now, and I thought I was finally over Nathan. Maya would update me on the business once every two weeks. With Gaspard’s help, everything seemed to be going well. Our stock had recovered from that scandal and all the chips were falling right where they needed to be.
On his way back from Panama, Dante came to visit me again last month to see how I was doing. He apologized for coming, as he promised not to interfere with my self-reflection and recover, but I didn’t mind. I was glad for his visit.
While he could only stay for two days, the talk we had put my mind right where it needed to be. I had yet to bring up the letters and our childhood. I wanted that conversation to come when I was in my right mind. My mother’s therapist helped me through the rough parts, and I was forever grateful for her advice.
It had also been three weeks now since I had heard from Dante. He usually sent me a motivational text every Friday along with his own personal I love you at the bottom of each, but they’d stopped back in August.
I had called him, emailed him, and texted him, and nothing—no answer from any method of contact I used. He was not on any form of social media, so I didn’t know what to think. Perhaps he got tired of waiting. It had been almost half a year since I was in California, but he’d told me he would wait for me no matter how long it took. So why wasn’t he answering my calls and texts?
“Sweetie, are you all right? You haven’t come down for breakfast. I made you pancakes and eggs,” my mom called. I was still in my room, staring at my phone. Something didn’t quite sit right with me about his sudden silence.
“It’s Dante, Mom. I haven’t heard from him in a long time.”
“Why don’t you just call him?”
“I did, but he doesn’t answer.”
“I’m sure he’ll answer soon, sweetie. Come down here and get yourself something to eat.”
My nerves were rattled. This wasn’t like him at all. I left my bed and made my way downstairs. My dad had come back from Cuba last month. He was sitting on the couch reading the newspaper and he had already eaten breakfast. “I’m really starting to worry about him, Mom. It’s been weeks now.”
“Well, he is a billionaire. I’m pretty sure women are throwing themselves at him left and right,” my dad said. His words hit my gut like a flaming hot poker.
“Dylan! Shut up!” my mother shouted. “Look, sweetie. I’m sure he’ll respond to you soon.”
“What if Dad is right? What if some woman seduced him? I have to get back. I’ve been gone long enough.”
“Now see what you did, Dylan!” my mother snapped. My dad shrugged and went back to reading the paper. She hit him on the head with her cooking gloves and took his dishes to the kitchen.
My concerns grew when I messaged Gaspard and he didn’t return my texts or my calls either. Maybe Dante did give up on me. Perhaps I kept him waiting for too long. I had to get back . . . now. I couldn’t lose him—not him, not after he sacrificed so much. Not after he helped me through all this. I loved him, and I would not lose him.
I packed up all my things in a hurry and called my pilot to ready the jet for departure. I kissed my mom and dad goodbye before making my way to the car. That was when I called Maya to ask her if she had heard from either Dante or Gaspard, but it kept going directly to voicemail. What the hell was going on? No one seemed to want to answer their phones anymore.
It was really getting on my nerves, and it was starting to make me even more worried. As I made it to the airstrip, I couldn’t help but think the worst. My mind was going chaotic, thinking about all the negative possibilities. It was always times like these when people thought the worst, usually because the worst was happening. No need to think positive. Thinking positive would only lead to a monumental letdown when you discovered the everlasting boiling pile of shit that awaited you.
No matter how this situation played out, I had to have confidence in him. I knew he wouldn’t leave me without saying something first. As I boarded my jet, I finally got a text from Maya asking me if I was all right. I texted her back asking if she had heard from Gaspard or Dante. She didn’t respond for another hour. My frustration was building. Within that hour of her silence, I had texted her fifteen times. I needed answers.
She finally decided to text back but didn’t give me any hints as to his whereabouts. She seemed to be avoiding my questions all together. It was really starting to piss me off. I texted her more forcefully, insisting she tell me if she had heard from either of them.
Ten minutes later she texted back, saying that we had better discuss this when I got back. When I got back? She was seriously just going to leave me hanging like this? She was just going to leave me to suspect the worst the whole flight back to LA. This woman was killing me.
I called Dante, leaving multiple messages on his phone expressing my worry. His prerecorded message sank my heart each time I called. Just to hear his voice deepened my concerns that he may have found someone else. During the flight back, Maya and I texted back and forth. She continued to hold off telling me about Dante. In my infuriating texting battle with her, I got a text from Gaspard. I held off on berating Maya and turned my focus to him. He knew where Dante was, and I would get him to tell me.
But to my unending frustration with these two, Gaspard was just as closed lipped about Dante as Maya. I sat back in my seat and fantasized about body-slamming them both the second I stepped off this jet. Gaspard told me it was better I hear it from Maya since we were family and she was closer to me than he was. Frustration had passed and turned into desperation as I texted Gaspard, begging him to tell me what was going on. He texted back and told me that it was too difficult for him to explain over text. What the hell was going on?
If Dante stopped messaging me three weeks ago, then that meant neither of these clowns decided to tell me what was happening until I asked them. Oh yes, the body slams were coming. I might be small and skinny, but I’d try my damnedest to lift them up into the air and smash them down to the ground.
I still had four more hours until I got back to LA, and the entire time my mind was going to be drowning in negative thoughts and anxiety. Why couldn’t they just tell me what was going on? Was it really so terrible I had to be sat down and told face-to-face? I couldn’t take this. Staying away for so long may have had consequences I wasn’t ready to face.
Chapter 4
Isabella
The weather here was gloomy, and the whole set of the day seemed depressing. Bad news was coming, I was sure of it. Negative vibes clouded me from the moment I stepped off the jet. If I found out Dante left me for someone else, I would just die. Just wither away into oblivion. He had been my rock from the beginning, and if he were gone from my life, then my life would cease to exist.
Maya had handled the purchase of my new place at Sierra Towers in West Hollywood. It was just three miles from the condo I had in Beverly Hills but more luxurious. She didn’t want me to be secluded and felt the condo in West Hollywood would be more to my liking when I got back. Even though I disliked being in upscale areas, we both decided it was time for a change. I needed to get as far away from that hellish villa as I possibly could, and being around people would help me cope.
Although, I balked at all the attention people got around here. I probably should have had Maya avoid areas that were littered with celebrities. Being around notable people wasn’t really my thing, and Sierra Towers was well known for the celebrities who lived here. I was probably going to have to find another place.
I asked Maya to meet me there so she could explain what was happening with Dante. I braced myself for the worst, as heartbreak wasn’t something new to me
. This was something I expected from Nathan, but not Dante. Please, not Dante. I’d put all my faith in him, and he couldn’t just abandon me now.
My driver approached my new home and pulled into the garage area. We parked in my unit’s space, where I saw both Maya and Gaspard waiting for me. This whole time I’d been thinking they were just screwing around with me, and Dante would be here to greet me. I was hoping this was all a ruse to get me to come back home. But I could see from the looks on their faces that this wasn’t the case. Neither of them said a word about Dante despite my questions the moment we greeted each other. We exited the elevator and went straight to my unit.
Gaspard opened my door, then directed me toward Maya, who had walked into the living room. She handed me my keys and sat on the couch. Gaspard entered as well before closing the door behind him. The place was far too luxurious for my taste. But that was beside the point. I sat on the couch and stared daggers at my cousin and Gaspard.
“All right, Mr. and Mrs. Silence, are you two going to tell me what’s going on or not?” I was annoyed and was sure they could tell. Gaspard put his head down before looking in Maya’s direction. I stared at Maya, and I could see she was having a hard time gathering the courage to tell me what was going on.
I braced myself for the worst. “It’s okay, Maya. You can tell me what happened. If he found someone else, I’ll just have to accept that,” I said peacefully while knowing in my heart I was dying inside.
“No, Isabella. That’s not it at all. You know he loved you from the bottom of his heart and would never leave you from anyone else,” said Gaspard.
“Yes, but you just said loved. That he loved me, not loves me. Did he stop loving me? Did something happen to him? Please just tell me. Did something happen?” They both looked at each other and exhaled slowly.