Seeking Solace

by Chelsea Camaron

  “Yes, Sir,” I conceded, not knowing what else to say.

  After a few more moments, he ended the call and I thought on the conversation. It was time I made friends. This was my life and life was for the living, not the dead.

  If only it was as easy as telling myself that.

  Ten

  Six Months Later

  My first year of college was behind me and I had begun my sophomore year. I did it thanks to Giano’s money. He left me a way to carry on without the financial burdens some of my friends like Tom and Jenny faced.

  I made friends with Tom, who I met in Professor Patrick’s class. He was working toward his doctorate in psychology and helped me focus my course load for summer semester so I could get ahead. His input ensured I used my electives wisely to broaden my future possibilities and not just take some art appreciation class I would never use.

  Even though I was sure he caught my side glances at Professor Patrick from time to time, Tom never pried and I was thankful for it. It also helped that Tom was in a polyamorous relationship that kept his emotions reeling. I didn’t understand the way he could love both women, but he truly felt they both were his partners. He said monogamy was yet another psychological trick of the mind, for the heart was capable of love for more than one. Society rules and perceptions kept people from wanting to be overly sexual or promiscuous instead of simply embracing love for the emotion it was.

  Fulfilling.

  He felt love was the most important emotion one could have because it was how we felt fulfilled. So the more we loved, the more we would be loved in return and the more our emotional tank would be filled.

  While these happy thoughts worked well for him, I still wasn’t sure I was the type of person who could equally love more than one person. I just wasn’t that good at multitasking.

  Tom worked two jobs, tutored, went to school full-time, and somehow managed to keep two women satisfied. Although, he did admit he was often times overwhelmed with their needs to talk, analyze, and deconstruct the relationship, he was happy.

  I found the whole thing interesting.

  With every passing day, I was more determined than the last to major in psychology. The more people I studied, the more I became aware of the glass box I had been in my entire life. There was a great big world out there full of people who all think and feel differently.

  These people would grow up and have children, and some already did. Their feelings, control of, or lack thereof, impacted these kids. Children were the future. Helping them to navigate the world and find solace in the darkness called to me. My goal was to become a social worker one day or a child psychologist in a clinic. I wasn’t sure which, only that I had a desire to help other people in their formative years.

  Each day, I held onto my goals and the opportunity Giano had given me. I would honor him by helping someone not tread down the path I had.

  When the grief was too much, when I felt myself wanting it all to end, I told myself I needed to make his sacrifice worth it. I needed to go forward, not for me, not for Giano, but for the people I could help in the future. The little Fallyns whose fathers were monsters. The little girls and boys who had no control and nowhere they felt safe. I was going to be the person in their lives who stayed the course to find them safety and happiness.

  I knew loneliness.

  I was learning about friendships.

  Professor Patrick had become a friend. True to his word, he hadn’t touched me. While this disappointed me, I found I thoroughly enjoyed the time we shared without being physical. We connected. We explored Oregon. We experienced this West Coast life. We laughed. I cried. He held me, even though he didn’t understand my pain. We had moments that were like tiny treasures of time. We flirted, we joked, and he helped me study for my classes that weren’t his. We were well locked into the friend zone, safe and sound.

  Uncle Alanzo visited at least once a month and continued his calls. Even the middle of the night ones when he woke up and saw my lights on. I found comfort in it and learned to appreciate that someone cared enough to check on me.

  Alanzo should hate me. I told him the truth. I told him the ugliness about how I seduced Giano. I took on one hundred percent of the blame for why Giano killed himself. I cost Alanzo his very closest friend and business partner. But he didn’t hate me. He actually understood me, embraced me, and lifted me up when I was so far down.

  In this time, I had grown.

  I felt like I had a real future. I felt like Giano had given me a gift.

  I still wasn’t sure what to do with that gift, but I had accepted that my life was a gift. And I shouldn’t throw it away.

  There were days I struggled to keep going. Last week was like that. I didn’t leave my room for almost two days. The darkness won some battles, but overall, I learned to fight back and hang on to the light. Giano wouldn’t have wanted to die for nothing. Me living was the only way to give back to the man who had given me so much.

  The doorbell rang and I rose to get the door. Sometimes my friend Jenny would stop by. She lived two buildings over. She was a junior, studying for med school. Jenny was shy and sweet. She considered herself socially awkward, but I didn’t. I found her to be fascinating, intelligent, and beautiful. She just wasn’t very outgoing.

  I understood that feeling completely.

  We met at the pool when I was swimming one rainy day. She had become a sort of workout buddy. For a while, Shawn tried to be my swim partner, but I found my attraction to him to be too much to resist and I went back to running.

  Even in the rain.

  He didn’t like that and backed off, promising to swim on a different schedule from me.

  While I desperately craved his attention, I couldn’t resist the pull. Neither of us needed the complication of a relationship while I was his student. The whispers were enough and I wasn’t about to give someone the confirmation of our non-relationship as a weapon to use against Shawn. He was a good man. I wouldn’t taint that. I had messed up enough lives the last time I didn’t keep my desires in control.

  I wouldn’t do it again.

  Since I finished his class, though, nothing had changed between us. I didn’t want to push. I didn’t want to mistake something so I waited for him to make a move. Insecurities plagued me with every passing day that he didn’t kiss me, touch me—anything to tell me I didn’t lose him. We talked every day, but hadn’t moved beyond our friendship and regular sushi dinners.

  Opening the door, all I saw was a huge vase of flowers with a man standing behind them. I startled as the flowers were pushed forward.

  “Angelina Diamante,” his voice settled my nerves. “I’m here to celebrate you tonight,” Shawn teased.

  I grabbed the flowers and stepped inside, setting them on the counter before turning back to him beaming. He had moved inside my space and shut the door behind him.

  “I hear you made the Dean’s list despite having an asshole for a History teacher setting you off track for your summer semester,” he joked and I playfully patted his chest.

  Deciding this was my chance, I reached out and pulled him to me. I had to know. If he rejected me then so be it, but at least I would know where I stood. My lips hit his before his hands came to my waist, holding me in place as he took over the kiss.

  He wasn’t overbearing, he wasn’t soft, he was taking and I was giving. I was lost to the passion, the desire. Pawing at him, I wanted—no, I needed—more.

  “I want to take you out,” he whispered against my lips.

  I paused, thinking.

  He pressed his lips to mine softly. “Don’t shut down on me, I just want to do this right.”

  I softened.

  “I feel like we’ve had months of going out. Dinners, late night talks,” I whispered. “I want to kiss you, touch you,” I blinked nervously, “feel you.” The words came out before I stopped to think about them.

  His lips crashed to mine as he scooped me up. I wrapped my legs around his waist and we both l
et out a chuckle as we bumped into my end-table lamp, knocking it over as we moved down the hall to my bedroom.

  We fell onto my bed where I pulled at his shirt. He put just enough space between us for that to happen before his lips were back on mine. I traced his ink as his tongue went deep into my mouth and he maneuvered to slide up my shirt.

  The chemistry between us kept my mind in a fog. I laid back on my bed as he tugged off my jeans and panties before removing his belt.

  I wanted him.

  I needed him.

  I craved him.

  For a moment, Giano crawled into my mind, reminding me that I needed a man who truly knew how to take care of me. With every caress, I felt it to my bones that Shawn Patrick was that man.

  He kissed down my neck to my chest as I squirmed under him. Pulling back, he reached for his wallet, grabbing a condom. As he removed his pants and boxers, I watched in appreciation as he covered himself.

  “Fuck, Angel,” he whispered.

  I froze.

  Didn’t he realize I wasn’t an angel?

  Before I could think to pull away, his mouth latched onto my neck, sucking and then biting hard. I moaned as the sensations twisted pain into pleasure. All thought of angels and the devil I really was disappeared as need took over.

  His dick settled between my legs and he moved, making my clit throb. For a moment, I wondered if he would fit. I had only had sex once in my life.

  With his mouth on mine, he transformed my mind back to the moment. His hand grazed up my inner thigh before teasing and working the lips of my pussy. Opening my eyes, I locked onto his and watched as his desire for me grew. A finger slid inside of me. In and out, he worked me as I felt my own liquid lubricate between us. A second finger joined the first as his mouth captured my nipple. Scissoring inside me, he stretched me until I was arching into him, seeking more.

  “Ready for me?” He whispered.

  “Yes, please,” I begged with a wanton voice I never expected from myself.

  He shifted and inch by inch slid inside. His ragged breath danced across my collarbone. His nails dug into my ribs as he pushed in full and deep. I pulled his hair as the sensations overtook me.

  “Come on, baby,” he coaxed me on as he slid in and out.

  I was on the verge.

  Our breathing synced as our bodies moved together. He drove harder and I went soaring over the edge.

  Only after I found my release did he work for his. I was going through the aftershocks as he found his climax. Laying over me, he chuckled.

  “What is it about you? I had a plan to take you out. I wanted to go slow. I lose control when I’m around you.”

  I wanted to smile. I wanted to laugh. I wanted to joke. But I couldn’t.

  “I tend to do that to people and it’s not a good thing,” I told him ominously. “You should let me go and not look back. Being with me is dangerous.”

  Post-coital bliss had me rambling.

  “Shhhh, I know you think you’re dangerous, but I promise you I’m fine, baby. Trust me, Angelina.”

  Trust.

  Another trick we played on our minds.

  Eleven

  “Are you ready?” Shawn asked with a proud smile.

  “Yes!”

  After our first night together, Shawn had been the man I never knew I needed. The last month had been amazing. Falling in love was just that, falling. When he sensed me crawling inside myself, he dug in deeper to pull me out and back to him. I wished I could say it wouldn’t happen again, but I wouldn’t make promises I couldn’t keep. Sometimes we spent hours in each other’s arms not speaking, just being. At times, that was exactly what I needed. Other times, he went running with me or we hiked a trail. Everything with him was an adventure.

  He gave me this easy acceptance I hadn’t found in many people.

  Anything with Shawn was fun. The last month with him I have caught myself genuinely smiling. Elation beat out grief for the first time since losing Giano.

  I felt like a resilient child again that I somehow might get through this thing called life.

  It was Christmas break and I had made it through another semester of college. The snow was on the ground and it was cold, but I found it was more of a reason to snuggle up.

  He didn’t question my past, even though I found out he came from an Irish family that had ties to another family that somehow had ties to Giano. Since the name Diamante wasn’t widely popular, when he saw my name as an out-of-state student, he checked my file. He was worried someone from his family was in trouble and maybe I was a set-up from that.

  Sometimes guilty by association could mean big trouble when that association is to a crime family. They didn’t live by the laws and didn’t care who got caught in the crossfire.

  I explained that my father’s business and his associations were something he took great care to keep me separated from. Truly, I didn’t know much about Giano’s work life and I was thankful for it.

  As for Shawn, he had been cut off from his family when he made the decision not to be in the family business. With student loans, he had amassed quite a bit of debt trying to follow his own dreams. I admired his determination.

  But I didn’t pry.

  While I wanted to know Shawn, I wanted to know him for the man he was with me and not the ties to his past. I knew first-hand that who you were born as didn’t predetermine who you would become.

  The man he was with me was the man I had fallen for, and no matter who he was by birth, I wouldn’t let that go.

  Pasts were just that, the things behind us. I wanted to look ahead.

  What a strange feeling to finally experience the euphoria of considering a time ahead with another person. I wasn’t making wedding plans or crazy stuff like that, but I was enjoying this time of getting to know one another.

  I was taking in the chance to be normal, to feel and fall like everyone else.

  We made the drive to Crater Lake. A day hiking and sight-seeing awaited us. The deepest lake in the United States and the bluest; I couldn’t wait to take in its beauty. The drive from Portland was a little over four hours in which I sang out of tune, danced to all the songs, and laughed. Parking the car, I climbed out and stretched.

  Taking me by the hand, he led us to the trail opening.

  The sky was a beautiful blue, the weather warm, but not overly hot, and the company magnificent.

  It was the kind of day memories were made of.

  This was my life now. Things were turning around. Each day was a new memory to put in the books.

  With it being winter, most of the area was closed. We brought snow shoes and hiked what we could. Taking in the peace and serenity, I felt a blanket of warmth envelope me, even in the cold northwestern winter day.

  It was a little awkward when we stopped at one view point and Shawn shuffled to stand behind me. With snow shoes it meant a change in position but he managed to wrap me in his arms as we took in the lake view in front of us.

  “Tell me what you dream of,” he requested.

  I smiled. “World peace,” I joked.

  “Okay, Miss America, we’ll be sure to work on world hunger, too. Seriously, we get this one life to live, one imprint to leave. What do you dream of yours being?”

  I thought about his question. “You’re a deep man, Shawn Patrick.”

  “I teach History, baby. My entire career has been spent learning every monumental moment in the past and its impact in the world and society. Do you realize most of those moments were tragic? Hitler’s lasting foot print can still be felt to this day. It wasn’t a positive one.”

  I nodded.

  “I want to help children,” I answered him vaguely.

  “Admirable. So children’s psychology?”

  I nodded. “Sometimes the footprints left by people mark a child in the formative years. I want to help people to overcome those scars.”

  “What was your childhood like?”

  “Lonely,” I told him honestly.

>   “Was that because you missed your mother?”

  That was a loaded question I wasn’t sure how to answer. I didn’t want to live my life lying to people I loved, but I certainly couldn’t tell him my truths.

  “My mother died when I was young. Developmentally, I wasn’t ready to process the loss or the relationship we had. So did that play a part in my loneliness? I suppose it did. What was your childhood like?”

  “Structured.”

  I felt him stiffen behind me and knew instantly he had his own scars. I didn’t push. Honestly, not because I wasn’t curious, but more because I feared he would ask more from me and I sincerely didn’t want to lie.

  “You are a beautiful woman, Angelina Diamante.”

  I smiled.

  “You have a beautiful soul, Shawn Patrick.”

  He kissed my temple and we stood in place for a long while quietly cherishing each other.

  Making a memory.

  I knew how quickly the world could crash around you. I wanted to stock pile as much good as I could before life handed me another blow.

  I was cursed, after all, so it was bound to happen.

  “Merry Christmas, Angel,” Shawn whispered in my ear.

  My body was tangled with his. We returned from Crater Lake after a few days together in a cabin that were pure bliss. Together we picked out a small Christmas tree and decorated it.

  Christmas was a tough holiday. I sprawled over Shawn as he rubbed my back and my mind got lost in a memory. My first few holidays with Giano were different, especially Thanksgiving, which I didn’t celebrate this year either. I remembered Giano struggled to find reasons to be thankful after losing his family so he didn’t celebrate the holiday or those traditions. That first Christmas I was anticipating another day on the calendar. In my mind, I could remember it all.

  Christmas morning arrived, and I expected to spend it much like I had every other day in the last seven months—in my room. I got up and dressed before going to the window. With the lace curtain in my hand, I allowed my mind to drift as I watched the snow fall in large flakes.