by Ava Zavora
To: Eden E
I am sure.
Then that makes me quite a lucky man, doesn't it? :P
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From: Eden E
Date: Mon, Aug 13, at 3:59 PM
To: Adam -
I hope you always think that.
I'll have to try something one of these days: Buy a pack of Camels, light one and spend time in the same room with it.
Remember, you were going to look for that poem when you have time. The one you read to me over the phone.
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From: Adam -
Date: Mon, Aug 13, at 4:02 PM
To: Eden E
If you do buy Camels, by the light ones, same smell but less intense. You never fail to amaze me.
I have located the poem and will send it tomorrow.
You didn't tell me what you thought about the notion that I wanted to talk to you so much tonight and feeling empty because I can’t. Do you not feel the same?
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From: Eden E
Date: Mon, Aug 13, at 4:13 PM
To: Adam -
I brought one of the sample cards with your cologne here to work so I can smell you periodically. See how I grasp at anything so that you can be with me in this other life?
Of course I feel the same! Haven’t you read anything I’ve written? Can’t you tell that with the exception of Dante, everything else is insubstantial, a shadow that pales in comparison to my time with you?
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From: Adam -
Date: 8/13
Subject: Chat with Adam -
To: [email protected]
Adam: I thought I'd come to chat instead of mail because I don't know when you will have to leave and I miss you.
Eden: I'm glad you did. Time moved so fast today, especially during lunch.
Adam: Yes. Our conversation flew by. It felt like 10 minutes. But then it always does.
Adam: Why does it feel like time is our enemy? That we will never have enough?
Eden: I wanted you to sing some more. I wanted to hear your voice more. I wanted ... more.
Adam: Me too, darling.
Eden: Say good night. Please.
Adam: You have to go?
Eden: But I don't want to. My need for you – it’s gently intense.
Adam: Gently intense, beautiful
Adam: Your notifications of departure are always so abrupt.
Adam: I don't want you to go either. Not at all ;(
Adam: Good night, Eden x
Eden: Say it please!
Adam: https://imtransfer.uploads/750483/VoiceMessage.mp3
From: Adam -
Date: Wed, Aug 15, at 7:01 AM
To: Eden E
The last 24 hours have been unbearable, not being able to talk to you. Every minute was like an hour and all I could think about was coming back to you.
Increasingly, my work or anything that keeps us apart becomes less and less important to me.
It feels like I've come home now that we're here talking.
From: Eden E
Date: Wed, Aug 15, at 7:28 AM
To: Adam -
When we're not together, I feel suspended, in limbo.
You’re more real to me than any man I’ve ever known.
Late summer afternoons were for Adam. Every other day, Dante would have dinner with his dad so she would be alone with Adam and they could talk for hours. He was a night owl anyway, he would assure her whenever she became concerned, so staying up until 2 or 3 in the morning wasn’t too difficult. Sometimes he would sing to her old-fashioned love songs, doing his best to stay in tune. Other times he would read her more of his poetry.
She insisted that they have dates (“Just because you’re in another time zone, doesn’t mean you can be excused!” she told him when he groaned.) One Sunday, when she was home alone, she made a lovely lunch for herself and propped up her iPod on the table so that she could talk with Adam while he had his candlelit dinner in Sicily.
Another Sunday she woke up early so that they could both watch a movie at the same time – Annie Hall, something they’d both had never seen before. They messaged each other the whole time with their thoughts. He was unimpressed. She thought it was great. They spent the next hour arguing its merits and flaws, which only ended when he told her he spent the entire movie wanting to talk to her instead.
There were no guessing games with him like there were with other men. She never had to doubt that his interest in her was of a serious nature. A man who professed not to ever date didn’t waste time with casual flings.
“We need to spend time together,” he would say, though they had been e-mailing nonstop all day or talked at length the nights before.
Even so, they still had an inexhaustible well of conversation. They discussed books, food, music, the news. Adam never failed to ask her about Dante, and she began to talk to him about her son, even trusting him with her worries and concerns. It was a relief to have a man who was interested in her and did not see Dante as competition for her affections.
Often they would get into passionate debates ranging from climate change (she almost choked when he said he didn’t believe in it) to effective government (“What do you mean you didn’t vote for prime minister?!” she sputtered, aghast. “How can somebody with so many strong opinions not vote for the person who’ll run the country? I love to vote!” To which he replied mildly, “I refused to choose between two evils.”) Their favorite and most frequent sparring seemed to occur over Americans versus Brits (“We gave you the English language and look what you did with it,” was his favorite lament. “Yeah,” she would retort, “We made it better.”)
Although they never hid their opinions from one another, they were careful to dance around the topic which had almost driven them apart. Eden grew comfortable in thinking that once they were more established, she would slowly and carefully change his mind, convince him with sound and effective arguments. She was confident that she would have plenty of time to do so.
She never had a shortage of questions about his life and his past, especially his childhood.
She learned about his father, a hard and emotionally distant man. The mother who left him when he was two years old. A life so impoverished that he would go for days without food. Sometimes the only way he could eat was if he went to the neighbors, who would take pity on him. The constant fights in school, which Adam described as a war zone. His had been a bleak and violent childhood.
If she got too distressed with his sad remembrances, Adam would tell her stories of the many places he had been and where he wanted to take her.
“We could go to Montenegro,” he would say, “I could teach you how to gamble in the casinos.” He wanted to take her to Formula One races, sailing on his boat. He asked her if she and Dante would like to spend a week in Cannes, as he had a friend who had a house there. Eden never knew what to say to these suggestions. She couldn’t imagine herself in the glamorous world he described. Or when he talked more and more about Sicily, as though to entice her with its charms.
Although she was fascinated by his life there, Eden knew that fascination only extended so far as it pertained to Adam. It would be a great place to visit, but to live there? This was a question that kept surfacing more often in the undercurrents of all their talks, even though they had known each other only a short time. With each day of e-mails and hours of Skype talks, they got closer and closer, more and more intimate.
“Would you get married again?” he asked her point blank in his “business” voice. She was learning to read all the subtle tones and nuances of his voice, the nearest thing to tangibility that she had. This was the same tone he used when discussing work and negotiations. I have no p
atience with nonsense, it seemed to indicate, so let’s cut to the chase.
“Married again?” she repeated, more than taken aback. Adam didn’t seem like someone who rushed important decisions. But he was, above all, a practical man. What was the point of getting to know each other and building a relationship if not to lead to something permanent? He had made it clear from the beginning what his situation was - a man who had attained financial security and was now looking to the next stage of his life: a wife, children.
“Well,” she started, scrambling for a diplomatic reply. “I am open to it. I always thought that I would again, if I met the right man. But it’s not something I think about or plan for.”
“You stayed single for almost eight years – no one at all during that time?”
Eden tried to quell her uneasiness. It was natural of him to ask, yet it was veering towards dangerous territory. She contemplated diverting him to another topic, but realized how hypocritical she was being. She had asked him hundreds of probing questions, which he answered quite patiently and when it was his turn, her first instinct was avoidance.
“Yes. I’d been with Dante’s dad for all my adult life. I wanted – needed – to see if I could make it on my own. I wanted to concentrate on Dante first, and myself, second. And when I was ready, I started dating.”
“Hm,” he said, “Makes sense.” He sounded like he believed her, but that there was something he was turning over in his mind. Something that troubled him. “It took you a long time to become ready to let someone else in your life. Troy - was it?”
“Yes.”
“Was it serious?”
“Yes. Even for its brief time.”
“But as soon as he started to try and control you – you cut it off. No hesitation.”
“Correct.” She worried that he would think she was fickle, like he accused her once before. “I’m willing to compromise, Adam. I think you have proof of that.”
“I do.”
“He started off being very sweet and romantic and understanding. Then at some point, he began to get jealous of all the time I spent on other pursuits – blogging, boxing, reading. He even complained about my wanting to spend time with Dante. Then when he gave me that ultimatum – either see him or break up – I just knew it would only get worse. So I had to end it.”
“You were afraid it would get much worse.” It wasn’t a question.
“I chose to pay attention to the red flags.”
"The warning signs of deep insecurity?"
"Yes."
"Someone who was controlling?"
"Maybe," she admitted. "Truth was, now looking back, how could I know someone enough in two months? But if he was acting that way that early in the relationship then ..."
"You thought he might end up being abusive?" Adam asked gently.
Eden didn't answer. Her throat had constricted and she felt claustrophobic. It was an instinctual reaction - one of wanting desperately to flee. She tried to contain it.
"Eden."
"Darling, I know this is hard. But it's something we need to talk about."
"Why?"
"You once asked me if perhaps I sought an online relationship because it was easier. Do you remember asking me that?"
"Yes."
"Have you ever wondered if perhaps subconsciously, you were seeking the same?"
"No, I wasn't, Adam! You were the one who found me, remember?"
"Yes, darling, I did," he replied patiently. Adam sounded as if he was choosing his words with the utmost care. "Let me put this another way. Why are you taking a self-defense class and a boxing class at the same time?"
"Because of my 36 list. And plus I like it. It's not peculiar, if that's what you're thinking. Lots of women are in both my classes."
"Women who have been assaulted in some way?"
Eden paused before answering. There was no going around it. He was tugging and pulling at her, forcing her to come to a place she didn't want to go.
"Some," she admitted.
"Eden, did your ex-husband hit you?" he asked in a voice she had never heard before, so soft and quiet that she was afraid of hurting him with the answer. She answered just as quietly, a very small word that she had difficulty forcing out.
"Yes."
He said nothing. She couldn't see him. She couldn't hear him. She had known him only a handful of intense days, but she could sense his mood changing to something very dark on the other end.
"It wasn't all the time," she said, anxious about what he thought of her. That she was a weak and foolish woman, someone who would stay with an abusive man for 10 years. A terrible mother who would raise her son in a toxic household.
"Just sometimes. And Dante never saw anything. I mean," she corrected herself, "never except for once. He came home drunk so I knew something was going to happen. I stupidly thought if I went to Dante's room, he wouldn't do anything. But he followed me and ..."
She had only told the story a few times. Once to the police, once to the District Attorney's Office, once to her parents, and once to her best friend, over eight years ago. The memory of her ex-husband growling at her like some ferocious animal, stinking of beer, and then throwing her to the ground didn't cause her any pain or fear now. Every detail was sharp but left her detached, all except for one part.
"He followed me and, and ... Dante woke up screaming. It's a sound I'll never forget." Her child's piercing shriek sliced through her like a knife. It hurt her more than any of the cruel things her husband had ever said or done to her. "I still hear it sometimes. That put an end to everything. I went to the police the next day."
"It didn't hurt," she said quickly, when Adam remained silent. "Not like the other times. And I never went back to him after that. I filed for a restraining order so he couldn't do all the things he used to do - call me all the time, saying he was sorry to get me to come back, follow me everywhere, corner me until I gave in. He knew he had finally crossed the line so he straightened up. Went to a batterer’s class and anger management class as part of the plea deal. Dante and I moved here and started over and now we're fine. Everything's fine now."
He was silent.
"Adam, please say something."
When he did speak it was with a black calm that chilled her.
"He had done worse."
"Yes."
"Much worse."
"Adam, it was a long time ago. I don't want to talk about it anymore."
The few minutes it took to tell the story had drained her. So much more was left unsaid - the awful fights, the yelling, the screaming, being thrown about like a rag doll, years of lying to everyone - doctors, the police, to her parents, to herself that everything was fine. Until the night she couldn’t lie to herself anymore.
"I'm sorry darling, but we must. It’s important to us, to our future."
She was finally ready to have a healthy relationship. With Troy, she had proven to herself that she could walk away from something that had the potential to be a repeat of her failed marriage. She didn't want any of the past to haunt her and Adam now.
"Please don't make me."
"Alright, darling. Alright," he said, as though soothing a troubled child. “We will never talk about it again. But there is one thing you need to know. Out of respect for you, and out of respect for your son.” His voice changed ever so subtly, but it reminded her of that first night when he told her of the time he almost died. It sounded deadly. Frightening.
"Eden, you must never let me meet that man."
Chapter 12
From: Adam -
Date: Sat, Aug 18, at 11:35 AM
To: Eden E
You know I once told you I liked tights. Well, I really like them a lot. They are so sexy to me.
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From: Eden E
Date: Sat, Aug 18, at 11:37 AM
To: Adam -
Sheer nylons or tights? Garters?
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From: Adam -
Date: Sat, Aug 18, at 11:37 AM
To: Eden E
Sheer nylons I guess?
What is a garter?
Teach me, Edie.
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From: Eden E
Date: Sat, Aug 18, at 11:46 AM
To: Adam -
Garters - well, pantyhose that come up mid to upper thigh and then fastened to panties.
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From: Adam -
Date: Sat, Aug 18, at 11:48 AM
To: Eden E
Do you have sheer nylons?
I don't know why I like them so much. I'm not well versed in the subject though.
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From: Eden E
Date: Sat, Aug 18, at 11:49 AM
To: Adam -
I have thigh highs in my underwear drawer, I think. I don't usually wear them. It's been years.
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From: Adam -