Addicted

by Zane

  “I understand!” Quinton was reading me like a book. Even though I came over there with the intention of breaking it off with him, more than likely we would’ve ended up in bed if he had let me in. Just like the many times before I declared I was never coming back but succumbed to my addiction in the long run. “I’m sorry, Quinton! I’m so sorry this had to happen!”

  “I know you are, Boo.” He reached out his thumb to wipe away some of the tears that were streaming down my cheek, and I savored the moment, for I knew it was the last and final intimate gesture between us.

  It was then I heard another noise coming from the stairwell, but this time, I wasn’t alone. Quinton yelled out, “Who’s there?”

  Tyson came barreling through the exit door with fire in his eyes. “You’re fucking someone else too? You cheap tramp!”

  “Zoe, who in the hell is this idiot?” Quinton demanded to know.

  “Tyson, how did you find me?” I was freakin’ the hell out. Being confronted by both of them at the same time was the last thing on my agenda.

  “You wanna know how I found you?” It didn’t really matter to me. Asking the question was a reflex. He was there, and I was in a shitload of trouble. Bottom line. “I was on my way to your office when I spotted your car and followed you here. My dumb ass was tracking you down to beg you to take me back.”

  “Hold the damn phone!” Quinton had gotten over his initial shock and rejoined the argument. “You’re having an affair with his bitch ass too?”

  I screamed at the top of my lungs, “It’s over!”

  Just then, Diamond, who would’ve had to have been plumb deaf not to hear all the shouting, opened her door and came out in the hall. “What the hell’s going on here?”

  Quinton was the first to respond. “Zoe’s just out here trying to clear up all her loose ends with her lovers!”

  “Lovers?”

  “Yes, Diamond, lovers with an s ! It seems Miss Zoe has been cheating on me while cheating on her husband, and lawd knows how many other poor bastards are caught up in this game!”

  “You know what?” I was tooooooo through then and just wanted to leave. “I’m sick of this shit, and all I want is for everyone to leave me the fuck alone.” I looked at each one of them individually and then repeated the request. “All of you, leave me the fuck alone!”

  That’s when Tyson called me a bitch and started strangling me. He was on top of me, his hands clasped around my neck like a vise. His anger was making his lips and cheeks shake. My airway was cut off, I was fading fast, and he would’ve killed me if Quinton hadn’t pried his hands off my neck.

  “Man, you can’t hit a woman!” They struggled for a few moments while Diamond helped me get up off the floor. Quinton got a hold of Tyson long enough for him to calm down and realize he had almost committed homicide.

  Tyson stormed off toward the exit door and paused just long enough to glare at me. “You’re not fuckin’ worth it! Not even a bitch like you is worth going back to jail for!”

  He kicked the exit door open and disappeared. Diamond asked me, “Do you want to go in my apartment so we can talk?”

  I broke away from her hold and screamed, “Hell no!”

  She backed off, went back in her place, and shut the door while I pressed the call button for the elevator. When it arrived, I was still struggling to regain complete control over my breathing and didn’t notice Quinton was still standing behind me until I got on and pulled the gate down. As I pressed the button for the garage, Quinton spoke his final words to me. “Zoe, get some help. If not for you or your husband, do it for your kids.”

  He went back into his loft and slammed the door. I went back to my office sick, hurt, and disgusted. At the same time, I was relieved it was all over. Facing off with all three of my lovers in the same hallway at the same time was pure hell, but it was over, and my life could finally get back to normal.

  chapter

  twenty-four

  I sat in my office, looking at the hordes of people on their way to this place or that place on the city streets below. My eyes were bloodshot, my bottom lip was puffy, my shirt was torn, my nylons were ripped to shreds, and I had fingerprints on my neck, but all in all, it had been a good day. My secretary, as well as everyone else, gave me the what-the-hell-happened-to-you look as I made my way to my secluded office. I clicked on the intercom and asked her to come into my office. Shane came running in with a pen and steno pad, ready to take dictation, and was surprised when she found out all I really wanted was to bum a pack of cigarettes. She started trying to get into my business, and I told her to take the rest of the day off with pay. I suggested she go take in a movie or get her nails done— anything, as long as she got the fuck out of my face.

  It had been ages since I took a drag off the legally manufactured cancer, but I was so stressed I needed something to get me through the rest of the day. It was only a little after noon, and all my walls had come tumbling down in the space of a morning. I called the auto club and told them to tow the car to the garage near the house. They asked a bunch of questions, since this was the second vandalism in such a short time. I tried to explain at first, and then I simply cussed the old battle-ax on the other end of the phone out. According to the contract, there was no limit to the number of times we could use their services, so I told her to send the damn tow truck and then slammed down the phone.

  Getting the car taken care of was a start. However, that wasn’t going to help me explain the rest to Jason. Specifically, why I looked like a female version of Rocky after a championship belt fight. I had to make up the lie of all mutha-fuckin’ lies, and I had about five hours to come up with it.

  I thought about saying I was mugged in the parking lot and blaming the broken car window on the assailant, stating it all happened during the struggle. I quickly decided against that one since, it meant calling the police and filing a false police report. It never could’ve worked. There wouldn’t be any broken glass on the ground around the car in the parking garage of my office building, because all of it was in the parking lot at Tyson’s job. Besides, I was already involved with the police because of Brina’s death, and I knew they would assume I had been attacked by Dempsey if I professed I didn’t get a good look at my assailant. Horrible idea, so I scratched it.

  I thought about saying I got into a fight over a parking-space on one of the downtown streets on my way to a business meeting with a client. That wouldn’t have worked either; Jason would’ve insisted on knowing where and with which client and then probably insist on asking them a bunch of questions. So that shit was out too.

  There was always the truth of course, but my momma didn’t raise no fool. I started chain smoking and choking, trying to get used to the nicotine in my system after all of those years. I spent a good hour trying to make up a lie and came to the conclusion I was basically ass out.

  I stayed locked in my office for the next couple of hours and never did five seconds of actual work. Every time someone knocked on my door after realizing my secretary was gone from her desk, I told them I was in a meeting and to come back later. They bought into it, although I was alone. Even if they didn’t buy it, their asses still weren’t getting through the door.

  By the time two o’clock rolled around, I was so overcome with worry about what I was going to tell Jason and stressed out about all the confrontations of the day, I felt like my world had come to an end. I got out the compact mirror from my purse and took a good look at myself. I looked like death warmed over. My cheeks were thinning, and I realized I had allowed my addiction to sex to take priority over every other aspect of my life, including my health.

  Even though I couldn’t imagine her ever forgiving me for the way I acted the last time we saw each other, I called Dr. Marcella Spencer’s office and pleaded for an immediate appointment. Her secretary told me, in no uncertain terms, that the doctor was booked for the rest of the day and there was no way an exception could be made. I hung up and started sobbing. I had no clue w
hat to do, and I felt so alone.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, Dr. Spencer called me back and told me she had rearranged her schedule so she could see my pathetic ass right away. She sensed my nervousness over the phone and even offered to come to me. I told her I wouldn’t be driving myself there and would prefer coming to her. We hung up, and I rushed past everyone in the outer offices before they could get a good look at me. I waved down a cab, and this man tried to playa hate me and jump in before I could. I told him to get the fuck out of my way and pushed him so I could get in. He had picked the wrong day to mess with me.

  Dr. Spencer and I ran into each other as I was getting off the elevator on her floor. She was on her way back to her office from the ladies lounge. “Zoe, you got here quickly!”

  She seemed more anxious to talk to me than I was to talk to her. The smile on her face changed to horror when she got a good look at me in the hallway lighting. “Oh, my goodness! What happened to you, Zoe?”

  I couldn’t say a word. I couldn’t breathe. I just fell into her arms and started wailing. She put her arms around me and helped me make it into the confines and safety of her inner office. For once, she didn’t have to suggest the chaise longue. I crawled up on it into a ball and let it all go.

  For a good five minutes, we were both speechless. Marcella just kept handing me tissue after tissue until I had used up the remainder of the box. She broke the silence. “You want something to drink, Zoe? Some coffee? Hot tea? Water? Soft drink?”

  I was beginning to wonder whether she was a therapist-or a flight attendant and hoped she didn’t ask me if I wanted some salted peanuts next. I just shook my head, letting her know all I wanted to do was lie there and drown in my own misery.

  “Zoe, we have to talk about this. You’re very upset, and you look like you may need medical attention. Do you need me to call an ambulance?”

  She rubbed my back, and I could tell her concern for my welfare was genuine. “No, no ambulance. I’ll be fine.”

  I turned over and lay on my back while she examined the marks on my neck with her hand. “Are those fingerprints on your neck? Did someone try to choke you, Zoe?”

  I laughed—a man blind in one eye could tell that. “More like murder me. Tyson tried to kill me this morning.”

  “What?” She had been sitting on the edge of the chaise next to me but jumped up, headed for her desk, and picked up the phone.

  “Marcella, what are you doing?” I sat all the way up. The way she jumped into action scared the living daylights out of me.

  “I’m calling the police, Zoe. You need protection.”

  “No!” I sprang to my feet, and a sharp pain struck me in my side. “Put the phone down!”

  “Zoe, you’ve got to go to the police. He tried to kill you. What makes you think he won’t come after you again?”

  I wrestled the phone from her hand and replaced it on the cradle. The irony of it all hit me. Less than three weeks before, Brina and I had the same argument, but she had been the one begging me not to call the police. Was I setting up my own untimely demise, just like she did?

  “Please, Marcella. I really need to talk. After I’ve told you everything, if you still think I should call the police, I won’t argue with you. Right now, I just really need a friend.” I gazed into her eyes, hoping she would go along.

  “Okay, Zoe.” She got out her pad, pen, and tape recorder while I went and lay back down on the chaise. She sat down in the wing chair beside it. “Let’s talk!”

  I ended up doing all the talking. I spent the next hour telling her everything that had happened since I stormed out of her office. I told her about how I left with the intention of going to talk to Brina but found nothing except her body full of stab wounds and her blood splattered everywhere. I told her about Dempsey, how I pulled a switchblade on him that one time, and how the police had had no luck in tracking him down since the murder.

  I told her how I had decided to go against her advice and try to end all the affairs at one time instead of gradually. I told her about all the shit I had endured since the sun came up that morning, and all the things I feared might happen before the sun went down that night. I told her about the confrontation with Tyson and Dusty and how a fight ensued between the two of us. I told her about my confrontation with Quinton and how he had shocked me by kicking me to the curb after he had a luncheon meeting with my husband. I told her about the confrontation between Quinton and Tyson after Tyson followed me there and tried to strangle me to death in the hallway.

  I told her about the ultimate and last confrontation with all three of my lovers in the hallway. I told her about the sexual experiences I had with Diamond after her continual insistence that I try bumping coochies. I told her how I didn’t like it at all and never even touched Diamond but just let her touch me. I told her how my need for affection had gone over the edge and that I regretted that situation most of all, because I was not and had never been attracted to women.

  I told her that I would keep my eyes closed the majority of the time I was with any of them, imagining that their hands and tongues and dicks and other body parts really belonged to Jason, the only true love I had ever known.

  Marcella listened intently and never interrupted me once. I felt much more relaxed after I let it all out and realized the explanation of what had been going on was more for my benefit than hers. As I listened to myself speak the words, it became all to clear to me what had to be done. So when she asked the question, I was quick with my reply.

  She put her pad down, cut the recorder off, and then reached out to caress my hand. “Zoe, you do realize that if there is ever to be any happiness or hope for your marriage, you’ve got to tell your husband everything? You’ve got to tell Jason!”

  I looked over at her and whispered, “I know.”

  Marcella lent me some clothes she kept in a duffel bag for working out at her gym three nights a week. The sweatpants were a size too big for me, and the T-shirt swallowed me up, but I didn’t care. I simply couldn’t face Jason with torn and battered clothing. I needed to maintain a slight air of dignity. Her tennis shoes were a perfect fit, though, so I didn’t have to wear my heels with the sports clothing.

  She was such a sweetheart, even trying to insist she go with me to hold my hand while I told him. I refused; it was something I had to do alone. We went to the ladies’ lounge, where she helped me fix my hair and touch up my makeup, which was smeared all over my face. The marks on my neck were horrendous. She used some cake makeup to try to make them less startling.

  I called Jason’s office to tell him I was going to catch a cab over. I wanted to make sure I caught him before he headed home, so we could drive somewhere and talk without the kids being present. His secretary said he had someone in his office and was adamant about not being disturbed by anyone. I started to tell her I was the exception, which she should have already known, but elected to have her inform Jason not to leave until I got there.

  The next call was to my mother, who was already at the house with the kids, having picked them up from school shortly after three. I asked her if she could stay late, because Jason and I had decided to have dinner in the city and possibly take in a movie, and she agreed. After I hung up the phone, I felt guilty about all of the lies I had told my mother. She was one of my many victims, along with my husband, my kids, and my lovers. I had no idea how I was going to admit all my appalling deeds to her—I would cross that bridge when I got to it.

  Jason was the matter at hand, and one of two things would be the result of confessing all my sins. He would either believe I never meant to hurt him, realize I had an illness, and stick by my side throughout the recovery process, or he would leave, which was a fate worse than death to me.

  Marcella called me a cab. While I was waiting, I asked if she was a religious woman. She smiled and told me how she had grown up in the church and was a true Christian. I told her I didn’t have much experience with religion but did believe in God and asked if she woul
d teach me how to pray. We both got on our knees, leaned our elbows on the chaise, clasped our fingers, and prayed for my salvation.

  chapter

  twenty-five

  On the way to Jason’s architectural-firm, I stared out the window of the cab at all the people in a hurry to get the hell away from work. It was just after five, and the rush-hour pandemonium had begun. I asked the cabdriver if he could speed it up, because I was in a hurry. He cursed under his breath at me in some foreign language but did get a bit more aggressive with his driving.

  After all the years of hiding things from him, going way back to our childhood, I was anxious to clear the air. Jason was the one person I should’ve revealed everything to from jump. If I had, none of the other events would have happened in the first place. There would’ve never been an affair, rather less affairs, and my marriage would never have been in jeopardy.

  I was hoping Jason would understand. I believed in my heart he would, if I could only get him alone somewhere and explain it to him in my own way. Maybe I would take him back out to the observatory or the inn at the lake, since those were the sites of our most recent pleasant memories. No matter where I did it, it had to be done. I was prepared to face the consequences of my actions.

  When we got about four blocks from Jason’s office, I noticed the flashing police lights ahead and wondered what had happened. The cab driver was stuck in heavy traffic, so I decided to pay him and trek the rest of the way on foot. I walked toward the office, slowly at first, but broke into a run when I saw Jason being handcuffed. By the time I covered the three remaining blocks, they had already put Jason in a squad car and driven off. I was out of breath and in a state of panic.