by Tina Martin
“I don’t know what I’m doing,” Carter admitted with bloodshot red eyes as he sat on the couch in Dr. Westbrook’s office a week later. She was the same doctor he’d taken Shayla. The doctor Jacob saw before he passed. Now the tables had turned and he was the patient. Never in a million years did Carter think he would have to resort to therapy, but the battle going on in his head and heart had finally erupted into an all out war that he could no longer mediate.
Dr. Westbrook watched him hang his head in despair, interlock his fingers and stare down at the floor. When he was at her office a few months ago supporting Shayla, Dr. Westbrook told him that he needed to tell Shayla about his relation to Jacob. Keeping it a secret that her ex-fiancé was his brother would do nothing but harm in the long run. It didn’t matter that Jacob had committed suicide…she still needed to know. “So I take it you finally told Shayla about Jacob?” Dr. Westbrook said with a look of satisfaction and crossed her legs.
“No. I didn’t tell her. I don’t know how.”
A surprised look touched her face. “Is that why you’re here? To get advice on how to tell her?”
Carter blew a hard breath. “Shayla and I got into an argument a couple of months ago and she moved out. Yesterday, I saw her for the first time in eight weeks.”
“What was the argument about?”
“Um…” Carter paused, because he didn’t want to get into that. The problem was, he wasn’t sure what he wanted to accomplish by seeing the doctor today. He just needed to talk to somebody. So with beads of sweat on his forehead, he looked at her and said, “She thought I was seeing someone.”
Carter remembered the dejected look on Shayla’s face the night he told her they could be just friends. His thought pattern at the time was, if Shayla believed Genevieve was his girlfriend, then her feelings for him would subside. It was ridiculous for a grown man to play those kind of games, he knew, but he saw it as a quick way of letting her know he couldn’t be involved with her. After all, how could he do that to his brother?
With raised eyebrows, Dr. Westbrook asked, “Were you seeing someone?”
“No.”
“So what would make her think that?”
“One of my female coworkers came by my house while I was at work to drop off some papers for me and Shayla assumed she was someone I was seeing. Being completely honest, I actually wanted Shayla to think I was with the woman.”
“Why?”
“So she wouldn’t fall in love with me. I know that sounds ludicrous and juvenile, but that’s what happened.”
“If you love Shayla, Mr. Williams, why wouldn’t you want her to fall in love with you?”
“Because I can’t do that to my brother,” Carter said in anguish, his face turning red. “I loved my brother. We just…we couldn’t work things out.”
Dr. Westbrook uncrossed her legs and shook her head. “So let me get this straight…you can’t be with Shayla because she and your brother, Jacob, had a relationship when he was alive.”
Carter nodded, fiddling with his thumbs. “It was more than just a relationship. They were engaged to be married. She was in love with him.”
“And now she’s in love with you. So here’s the question of the hour…what gives you the right to break her heart because you feel guilty?”
Silence.
“Mr. Williams, this is a serious matter, but the resolution is quite simple. Tell her about Jacob. I told you to do that months ago, and if you done it back then, you wouldn’t be here today.”
“I can’t tell her,” Carter said feeling his stomach tighten. “I told you that months ago.”
“Well, you have to. There’s no other way.”
“I can’t,” Carter maintained.
The doctor frowned slightly. “Give me one good reason why you can’t tell her. And I want you to really think about this before you answer, because from my previous interactions with you, Mr. Williams, I know you are a professional man, very well-spoken, considerate and respectful. I saw the way you and Shayla interacted in my office that day and I knew right away that you cared for her. So tell me why it is that you can’t talk to Shayla about Jacob?”
Carter sighed heavily. “If I tell her, not only would she think I’m a liar, untrustworthy and disloyal. She would know that everything she went through on the streets – the harsh weather, being robbed, beaten, begging for money and food – all those hardships she faced after Jacob’s death was my fault.”
“Why would that be your fault?”
“Because of this.” Carter stood, took his wallet from his back pocket and handed Dr. Westbrook Jacob’s suicide note.
Dr. Westbrook took it, asked Carter what it was before she unfolded it and was shocked when he told her that it was from Jacob. She read through it quickly, paying particular interest to Jacob’s request at the end of the note:
I know you’re under no obligation to do this, but this is my last and final wish. I’ve never asked you for anything, even in my most dire straights, but this I ask of you because I want Shayla to be happy. I want her to have the kind of life that you can give her. Please tell her I’m sorry I left this way. Tell her it’s for the best and that in some way, I’m doing this for her. Take care of her for me. She’s innocent in all of this and I want to make sure that she’s taken care of. I love her, Carter. Make sure she knows that. Make her happy. In the end, I’m sorry it had to be this way.
When the doctor looked up at him, he said, “I failed. I didn’t take care of her. I didn’t look for her like I should have. So like I said, everything she went through is my fault and when she reads this note, she’ll know that. But you know what…it’s all a moot point anyway, especially since she’s relocating to Virginia at the end of the month.”
“She has family there?” she asked, handing him the note back.
“No,” Carter said growing irritated with all her questions now. “She got a job and decided to move to get away from me. She didn’t say that outright, but I know that’s why she’s leaving.”
Dr. Westbrook thought for a moment. She was worried about Shayla moving away and living on her own. It was her opinion that Shayla still needed to come to terms with Jacob’s death, and it didn’t help matters that she and Carter was now involved in some convoluted, nonexistent love triangle dispute. “Mr. Williams, there is no other way. I can’t stress this enough. You have to tell her. Let her make the decision on what she wants to do. If she chooses to forgive you, then everything is back to normal, right? But if she doesn’t then at least you will have the satisfaction of getting this boulder lifted from your shoulder.”
“I would rather carry around a boulder than lose her.”
“I hate to put it so bluntly, but from the looks of things, you’ve already lost her.”
Carter dropped his head, his forehead leaning against his palms. He had already lost her, but the last thing he needed right now was a therapist who made him feel worthless. So irritated with Dr. Westbrook’s choice of words, he said, “I’m sorry. I should’ve never come here. I’m just gonna go.”
Before he could stand, Dr. Westbrook said, “Mr. Williams, wait a sec. I know how difficult this is, but you have to tell her.”
“I can’t. How many times do I have to say that?” he snapped. “You’re the doctor. You knew my brother, and you know Shayla, so why is it so difficult for you to understand my point of view on this?”
“I do understand, but you have to understand the consequences of your actions. It’ll hurt her even more when she finds out on her own. You do know that at some point, in one way or another, she will find out.”
“Well, maybe not since she’s moving away. I guess this is how it is supposed to happen. She moves a way, I never see her again and my life goes back to normal. Everything happens for a reason, right? Isn’t that what you mindbenders teach to make people feel optimistic about the disappointment in their lives?”
Dr. Westbrook furrowed her brows, picked up a pen and scribbled a note.
&n
bsp; “I wouldn’t even be here right now if you’d done your job in the first place! My brother came to see you. He wouldn’t talk to me, but he talked to you and you mean to tell me there was nothing you could do to prevent him from taking his life?” Carter eyes darkened, and he could feel a thick coating of anger overtaking him.
“Now wait a minute, Mr. Williams. I know you’re not implying—”
“That’s what I don’t understand about you people,” Carter interrupted. “You’re not even here to help folks…the only thing you do is listen to people tell you about their problems but not doing a thing to help them out of their own personal crisis. And because of it, my lil’ brother is dead!” A tear fell from Carter’s eye. He swiped it away quickly, stood up and said, “Forget this. I’m out.”
He slid on his shades and left her office, passing through a waiting area then walked by the receptionist, giving her a flimsy head nod on the way out.
Chapter 6
Even though he knew he was running out of time, Carter let a few more days go by without trying to contact Shayla. He fought with himself about what to do – carry on his carefree life as normal, or live without the only woman who was able to touch his heart. He told himself to let her go a million times, that she would be better off without him. The only problem was, he couldn’t stop thinking about her. Mad, confused and all – he could not stop thinking about her.
At work, he sat up tall in his leather chair, took his spare glasses from the top drawer of his desk. His mind was so scattered, he’d forgotten to put in his contacts before leaving for work in the morning.
He glanced at his watch. It was a little after three in the afternoon. He took his cell from the desk, found the number to the flower shop in his contact list and dialed the number.
“Rebecca’s Flowers. How can I help you?” Rebecca answered.
“Hi Rebecca. This is Carter…was wondering if Shayla was around?”
Rebecca rolled her eyes. “No. She’s not here right now.”
Carter sighed. “Rebecca, I just want to talk to her,” he said, thinking she was there and Rebecca was lying, covering for her.
“She’s not here. Look, Carter, I’m not trying to come in between you and Shayla and I’ve appreciated your business over the years but all I’m gonna say is, just because you are who you are doesn’t give you the right to treat her like crap.”
“What are you talking about?” he frowned.
“I’m talking about the night she came home crying her eyes out…the night you supposedly took her out to dinner.”
“Look, are you gonna put her on the phone or not?”
“I told you she’s not here,” Rebecca said flustered.
“Ah’ight. Fine. Sorry to bother you.” Carter dropped his phone on his new desktop calendar. Then he heard his desk phone beep a few times – a page from Julie.
He pressed the intercom button. “Yeah?”
“Meeting in fifteen,” Julie said. “The folks from the Rock Hill office just arrived.”
“Thanks, Julie.”
“Welcome, Sir.”
Carter hung his head. He was in no shape to have a meeting today. And what time would this meeting get out? Nine at night? Ten?
His cell ringing interrupted his thoughts. He looked at the number on the display and quickly answered it. “Hello?”
“Carter,” Rebecca said with empathy in her voice. “Look, the only thing I know is what Shayla tells me. To me, it seemed as if you cared about her—”
“I do care,” Carter interjected. “I know I’ve messed things up and I really need to talk to her, so if she’s there, can you please put her on the phone?”
“She’s not here. She actually…um…”
“What?”
Rebecca sighed, struggling with whether or not to tell him where Shayla was…that she was actually at his house.
“What is it, Rebecca?”
Rebecca sighed again. “She went by your place to get the rest of her stuff.”
Carter immediately ended the call, slid his phone in his coat pocket, snatched his keys from the top drawer of his desk and on his way out, he told Julie, “I’m not going to make the meeting.”
“But, Sir—”
“I’m not going to make it, Julie. I have an emergency.” He walked swiftly towards the hallway where the elevators were located.
“Carter, they’re expecting you to be there. I’ve already confirmed you.”
“Well unconfirm me.”
“And what am I supposed to tell them when they ask why you’re not here.”
“I don’t know, Julie. Tell ‘em I had an emergency, or make up something else. I don’t care.”
With that, he took the long elevator ride down to the basement level parking. Then he jumped in his car with one thing on his mind – getting to his house before Shayla left.
* * *
In her old room in Carter’s house, Shayla emptied her closet, asking herself if she even had a right to take the clothes since Carter had purchased them. Technically, they belonged to him, but what would he do with leftover articles of size eight women’s clothing? So she packed the clothes anyway, along with lotion, perfume, nail polish – everything she left behind was coming with her to Norfolk in two black suitcases. She zipped both bags, latching on to them while carefully descending the stairs. When she saw Carter standing at the base of them, in the foyer, she felt her stomach turn sour. What is he doing here, she thought. So much for making a clean break.
He waited until she was at the base of the stairway, standing directly in front of him in the foyer and said, “Can you put the bags down so we can talk?”
“We’ve already talked. I just wanna go.”
“You’re not leaving until I say what I have to say to you.” He stood tall in front of her, pushing his glasses tighter onto his face.
“Well can you hurry up and say it so I can go?” Shayla said with a shaky voice, dropping the bags next to her side. It was a confusing feeling to be so angry with someone she loved so much.
Carter took a breath. “At the restaurant, all I was trying to say is that we used to communicate about everything, which is why I can’t understand why you would write me a note and leave like I’m nothing to you. Look at you…in here, getting your stuff and ‘bout to leave like it’s that easy.”
Tears fell effortlessly from her eyes. “If it was so easy, I wouldn’t be in tears right now,” she forced out, avoiding eye contact with him then brushed the wetness from her face. Even after she’d been gone for eight weeks, it still wasn’t an easy task to gather the rest of her things, the reason why she’d put it off for so long in the first place.
“Then if it’s not easy,” Carter said stepping closer to her, “Why are you leaving?”
Shayla wiped her eyes, got herself together and gripped both bags again. “Excuse me. I need to go. I have a taxi coming and—”
“Why are you leaving me, Shayla?” Carter asked and didn’t move a step. “You really gon’ do this to me?”
Still gripping the handle of the bags, Shayla took a deep breath and said, “I left your house keys and the keys to your car on the coffee table in the living room.”
“You really gon’ do this to me, Shayla?” he asked frowning, feeling chest pains.
“I’m doing you a favor.” She dropped the bags yet again.
“How’s breaking my heart doing me a favor?”
More tears fell from Shayla’s eyes, yet she managed to let out a sarcastic chuckle. “Breaking your heart…like that’s even possible. But one thing is for sure. You don’t have to worry about sneaking around with women anymore with me out of the picture.”
“What women? There are no women.”
“Whatever, Carter. Just—”
“Listen to me, Shayla. Jeez! Why won’t you just listen?”
“Because I can’t. Not anymore.”
Ignoring her, Carter confessed, “Genevieve and I work together. That’s it.”
Lia
r. Shayla shook her head. “She said y’all meet at the hotel for dates.”
“Yes, work dates, and it’s not just the two of us. There’s a group of us that meet once a quarter at The Blake Hotel.”
“I don’t care, okay? There’s no need for you to explain anything to me. This doesn’t even feel right. Since when does Carter Williams have to explain anything to anyone?”
Carter thought about what she said for a moment. When had he ever had to explain himself to anyone? He was the boss, the man in charge at work and in his own life. He never had anyone to answer to, and now, he found himself in this situation, guarding his front door so the woman he loved didn’t walk out of it. He remembered how, in February, they stood in the foyer together, when she’d first came to his place. He remembered how her body felt on top if his as he consoled her, her warm breathing tickling his skin. He recalled feeling her tears burn down his chest like mercury, the first time he’d seen her smile, the smell of her freshly washed hair. He asked himself for the last time if he could live without her, feeling chest pains at the thought of not having her. But what about Jacob?
The taxi cab driver honked for her, but before Shayla walked out the door she thought for a moment how much this man meant to her. He had provided for her, taken care of her. This was a bittersweet moment. So instead of leaving him with angry words like he’d left her with at the movie theater that day, she turned to him and said with a shaky, trembling voice, “I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, but it’s time for me to move on with my life. Please give me the chance to start over.” With that, she walked away.
How could he stand there and watch the woman he loved walk right out of his life? He would’ve fought harder if he thought he deserved her. Instead, he stood at the door, watched her throw her things in the trunk and slide into the back seat of the yellow cab.
When the cab drove away, he walked into the living room, saw the keys to the Lexus where Shayla said she’d left them – on the coffee table. He picked them up and squeezed them in his hand as if they made him feel closer to her. Why did he let her leave so easily?