Yours to Keep by Claudia Burgoa
Chapter Eighteen
Vance
Sleep eluded me all night,and this time, I can’t blame my nephew. It was all Darren Russell. I never let a lover take over my thoughts. He’s not even my lover yet. He’s nothing to me. He is responsible for my shitty night, though.
Shitty.
Is it because I regret agreeing to the fake relationship-with-benefits? That’s precisely what we’ll be doing, right? Faking a relationship while having sex. Sure, that’s it. I couldn’t sleep because I have buyer’s remorse.
No. This is more like the morning after a drunk wedding in Vegas. I woke up to realize I did something stupid.
Perhaps none of those comparisons are close to what’s happening. The point is that when I wake up, I send a text to Dr. Sanders, who is still visiting his family. He doesn’t answer. I go through my morning routine. It’s around nine when I’m at my office, and he texts saying he’s ready to take my call. I have about thirty minutes of his time.
I almost run to the security room. That’s the only place in this hotel where no one can listen to my conversation. I’m the only one who knows the access code to the room. Well, that’s a big lie. Beacon does too. However, he’s still in San Diego. He wouldn’t give my brothers the number, though.
“Good morning, Vance, what can I do for you?” he says, clearing his throat.
“I hope I didn’t wake you up,” I apologize beforehand.
“You didn’t,” he says. “I’m on the East Coast. I was attending a couple of meetings.”
“Meetings or consultations?”
“Before I became a therapist, I ran a few successful businesses,” he says. “Ten years ago, I decided to make a few changes. I have to show up from time to time because I’m still the founder and former CEO.”
“You’re full of surprises,” I say, unable to think about the man as more than a therapist. “So, you regretted studying business and went for a psych major at sixty?”
He chuckles. “Actually, I majored in psychology and had a business minor. Then got my MBA while I was setting up a business with my partner. After he abandoned it, I had to keep it going. What can I do for you?”
I start by saying, “I have a boyfriend, and I don’t know what to do.”
“Now I’m puzzled. Can you run that by me again but give me a little more information?”
I explain to him what happened yesterday. Everything. I include the part where we’re going to be strangers-with-benefits. When I’m done, I ask, “What do you think?”
“Why did you do this again?”
“Maybe because I haven’t slept well since Machlan was born?”
“This is the same guy who ruined your day because he wanted to go to Portland with you?”
“Yes.”
“You said you don’t know what to do. How do you want me to help? I believe that you don’t want to stop this farce. Does it bother you that it’s fake? Is it that you don’t feel comfortable because it’s your first relationship after Bennett?”
Why is everyone bringing him into all my conversations? “Bennett and I were over a year ago,” I say, trying not to sound frustrated, but I’m upset.
“But this is the first time you’ve started something with a person, no?”
“Well, yes. I…the problem is we’re exchanging more than phone numbers and schedules. He knows my family, and I’ve met part of his family. We…this is weird, and I don’t know what to do.”
“You know what can help you?”
“Don’t say the wheel of emotions!”
He chuckles. “I won’t, but you know it will help you understand what’s happening and maybe give you some solutions. Not even I can do it because I don’t know if you’re nervous, joyful—”
“Why would I be joyful?” I interrupt him.
“You might like him more than you want to admit to yourself. These are just theories. I’m not implying those are the emotions you’re feeling, but…” He doesn’t finish his sentence. It’s all up in the air.
I don’t like his methods, but I go along with them. “So what, I pull out the picture, and then what?”
“And then you read each emotion and see which one resonates with you,” he explains to me. “That might help us determine what you need.”
I hate pulling it out, and as I look at all the emotions, I concentrate on anger, but nothing resonates there. It’s on the fearful part where I find words that describe how I feel. Helpless, frightened, overwhelmed, even worried.
“I shouldn’t be frightened or worried,” I say out loud.
“It’s a new experience,” he says.
“No. This isn’t real. It’s just two guys having a good time while we help each other.”
“But is it?”
“Why would I feel different?”
“There might be something that you haven’t experienced before. We established earlier that you like structure. Will this change your routine? Is there something that doesn’t resonate with your beliefs? Is there a change that’s making you feel uneasy?”
“All of the above,” I answer without even thinking about it.
I like kissing, but kissing Dare was like nothing I’ve ever experienced before. Before, there was an attraction with the people I’ve slept with, but with him… “I don’t want to talk about what’s happening between us, but I know there’s more.” The words rush out of my mouth, like birds escaping their cages for the first time—finally free to fly around.
This isn’t how I do things. I want Dr. Sanders to tell me what’s wrong with me. “How do I fix it? I don’t like it.”
“You owe it to yourself to explore it. This is the first time you’re allowing yourself to think beyond sex. Do you know there’s more intimacy in a kiss than during sex?”
As I think of the kisses I’ve shared with Darren, I can barely breathe. I’ve never felt more alive. There’s no doubt that something is happening, but I hate it. I hate it so much.
“This isn’t helping me,” I say. “You’re not helping me.”
“What do you want me to do for you?”
“Make everything go away,” I beg, like a child who’s having a nightmare, appealing to his parents to erase what I’m experiencing. To take the pain away. I’d rather be shot than face this—or Darren.
“Ah, feelings aren’t pleasant, are they? What if you love so hard and he leaves? What if you give it your all, and you never feel whole?”
“I hate this.” I don’t even know how to describe this.
“Until you learn to love it, you’ll want more, and then you’ll never get enough of it.”
I’m sure he’s happy with his wife and his family. That’s why he’s saying to try it, let it in. Come to the dark side. Everyone is in love. He doesn’t say, until they aren’t. He’s never seen the part when people are brokenhearted and miserable. I watched my mother several times. I saw it when Hayes broke up with Blaire twelve years ago. I don’t want it.
“What do I do now?”
“Let’s put this war between feelings and no feelings aside.”
“I don’t want it, take it.”
“Sure, it’s mine for now. I’ll hold on to those feelings, but only if you go through this exercise.”
“Like running?”
He chuckles. “No. Like closing your eyes and allowing yourself to feel for the next five minutes—”
“I already hate this,” I protest, almost croaking.
“Hate it later. For now, close your eyes and tell me where do you see yourself right now?”
In the presidential suite at the Merkel Hotel, kissing Darren. That’s not where I should be. I’m in Baker’s Creek, then I say, “On my way to Portland to check on Darren. Which I shouldn’t because I’m busy. He is busy. We’ll see each other on Saturday.”
It doesn’t make sense that I want to be around him. Why would I? He annoys the fuck out of me. The guy can’t understand the concept of silence. He’s funny, though. But I hate funny, don’t I?
“Do you want to wait until Saturday?”
I’m almost fuming. Why is he asking those questions?
“This is a safe place. No one, not even Darren, will know what you’re telling me.”
Almost defeated, I answer, “No.”
“I understand why you feel overwhelmed. The part that likes to suppress your feelings is fighting back.”
“I don’t have feelings for him,” I grumble.
He snorts. “Vance, I need to go. Your homework is to start listening to your heart. Allow yourself to do something nice for Darren and yourself.”
“Like what?”
“Maybe visit him during lunch or buy him dinner so when he gets to his hotel after a long day at work, he knows you were thinking of him. It feels good to know that you’re not alone when you’re on a business trip, or…the sky’s the limit.”
Why do I detect some sadness and nostalgia in his words? What if I’m wrong and his wife died?
“You only have the now, Vance. If you don’t take advantage of it, you’ll lose precious time. Let love be the thing that fuels your day,” he says before hanging up.
Maybe he’s right, yet I’d rather be on a battlefield than sending dinner to Darren Russell. Why is that?
