Read Too Little, Too Late Online
Authors: Victoria Christopher Murray
Tags: #Fiction, #General, #Romance, #Religious
I
T WAS TIME TO GO HOME
.
Alexis grabbed her purse, glanced around the suite that had become her asylum, and then rolled her suitcase from the room.
Outside in the hotel’s courtyard, she breathed in air that wasn’t from the seventeenth floor for the first time in three days.
The attendant opened the car door for her and she smiled her gratitude before she handed him a ten-dollar bill. Then she zipped her Lexus around the circular driveway and onto the street.
She had never planned to stay at the Fairmont for more than one night. But the exchange at Dr. Perkins’s office had driven her back to the hotel. And inside that sanctuary, Brian’s words had battled his deeds.
His words:
If I had cancer, would you leave me? Because, I love you, Alexis.
His deeds: Brian and his two thousand women.
The deeds were more powerful. Made her tie up her heart with string. Wrap it securely so that it could never be touched. She would never be hurt again.
If I had cancer, would you leave me?
Still his question stayed, whispering even now in the wind as she sped down the freeway toward home. But she shook away those words and tightened her heart strings.
All she had to remember was that she had vowed to stay with Brian through worse, through sickness, but nowhere had she promised to stay with him through two thousand women.
She felt her cell phone vibrate before she heard the ring. She sighed; she had to call Kyla. Between her best friend and her soon-to-be-ex, her voice mail was full. Picking up the phone, she glanced at the screen, frowned, then answered.
“Alexis?”
“Yes, Pastor Ford.” She raised her voice above the wind. “How are you?”
“I’m fine. I’m calling because I need to see you. Can you drop by my office?”
Alexis shook her head before she spoke a word. Her mission would not be denied. “I’m heading home right now—is it something we can discuss over the phone? Or at church tomorrow?” She knew this call was about the program design for the upcoming women’s retreat. She had promised to have the first drafts on her pastor’s desk by this past Tuesday, but her week’s plans had been blasted into the breeze after Brian’s addiction confession.
“No, I don’t do meetings by phone, and I really need to see you today.” The pastor’s tone said that she was the one who would not be denied. “How long will it take you to get here?”
The battle of wills was won—Alexis would go to her pastor. She glanced at the clock on the dashboard. “I’m on the four-oh-five. I’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.” Alexis tossed the cell phone onto the passenger seat. Why did Pastor Ford want to meet on a Saturday? Didn’t she know that people had lives? Had business to take care of? Had divorces they had to get started?
Well, it didn’t make sense to make a fuss—not with Pastor Ford. She would just go, speak to her pastor, and then be on her way. By tonight, her marriage would be over.
The fragrance of his cologne met her at the door and wrapped around her like a lover’s arms.
Alexis turned around, but it was too late to cut and run. Pastor Ford stood at her door as if she were a defensive lineman ready to take Alexis down if she made the wrong move.
“What are you doing here?” Alexis asked, her tone filled with venom.
Brian rose from his chair. “I’ve been worried about you.”
A moment passed before she eyed the door again.
“Alexis!” The pastor said her name as if it were a command. “Brian came to me because you two need help. I want to talk to both of you.”
She didn’t need help with anything, but she didn’t have the strength to battle her pastor. “All right,” she said, as if staying was her choice. With her chin jutted forward, she sat in the chair.
Pastor Ford settled behind her desk. Her eyes were soft as she looked at Alexis. “Brian’s told me everything.” She paused, her sorrow clear on her face. “This has to be tough.”
Duh?
was what she wanted to say. But good sense came out. “You know me, Pastor, I don’t wallow in anything. It is what it is and I’m ready to move on.”
“Alex,” Brian said before the pastor could respond. “I haven’t had the chance to say this to you. I’ve never had the chance to say I’m sorry for all of this because I love you too much to hurt you.”
She kept her eyes away from him and shrugged, as if his words didn’t matter. But it took all the will within her to keep those strings tight around her heart.
He continued, “I asked Pastor to get us together because I want you to know everything. How it started. Why I got treatment. It’s amazing, Alexis, I didn’t even know I had a problem…”
Now she faced him. “Really? How many women did you sleep with before you realized you were cheating on me?”
He bowed his head. “I know this is hard to believe, but it was like it wasn’t even me. And then afterward, all of those times—”
Alexis flinched.
“All I could do was think of you,” he continued. “But not even thoughts of you and how much I wanted our marriage were enough.”
“Not enough?” She paused. “Then let’s fix this. Let’s stop all of this and go straight to the solution.” She looked into his eyes and prayed that her words would hurt him as much as he’d hurt her. “I want a divorce.”
“Okay, let’s pause,” Pastor Ford intervened. “I understand how you feel, Alexis, but I’m surprised that your first reaction is divorce.”
Alexis was proud of herself. For the second time in minutes, she stopped the “duh” before it escaped from her lips. Instead she asked, “Why? Even God says that you can divorce for adultery.”
“No.” The pastor’s response shocked them both. “For some reason, people think that divorce is automatic with adultery. But that’s not God’s intent. God always planned for marriage to be a lifetime commitment—no matter what. Now, yes, there are circumstances—because of our sinfulness—where divorce can be the answer.”
Alexis smirked, her face lit up with victory.
Pastor Ford ignored her look of triumph. “Here’s the thing, Alexis. Never did God want for people to use divorce as a solution.”
“I’m not trying to solve a problem,” Alexis said. “I’m trying to correct a situation. When we married we said we’d be faithful to one another, and it’s obvious that I’m the only one who’s kept that commitment.”
“That’s true,” Pastor Ford said. “Brian was unfaithful and you were not. That said, do you feel better?”
Alexis wanted to scream that nothing short of a divorce would make her feel better.
When Alexis stayed quiet, Pastor Ford said, “Brian, you need to tell Alexis everything you told me.”
He waited for Alexis to turn toward him, but when moments passed, he spoke to her profile. “There was only one reason why I sought help. And that was because I love you. Even though I never thought you would find out, I wanted help because I wanted to stop. I wanted to be faithful to you.”
She faced him now. “And you needed help to be faithful?”
Her words were soaked in sarcasm, but he nodded. “Yes. That’s what being an addict is all about.”
She turned away. Stared at the bookcases behind the pastor’s desk that were stuffed with Bibles and other instructional guides on how to lead a Christian life. She wondered if her pastor had any good books on how to get a Christian divorce.
“Alexis, I love you.”
She stayed stiff, kept her focus on her anger.
“But I’m sick. I have a disease.”
She took a quick breath. Tried to hold onto the strings she felt loosening around her heart.
He persisted. “That’s not an excuse, it’s a fact. But it’s an illness that I’m going to fight with everything within me. This is not going to destroy me. And I’m going to fight to the end to make sure it doesn’t destroy us.”
He was pulling on her heart strings again, but she pulled back harder. Made those knots tighter.
He said, “I want to get well because of you.”
He never played fair. Even when they played Scrabble, she’d always caught him stealing a letter when she wasn’t looking. Now he was trying to steal her heart.
But she fought to hate him like she had all those days in the hotel room. Fought to hate him the way she did when she walked into this office with only divorce on her mind.
The pastor said, “Alexis, I know you’re hurt. But try, for a moment, to look past that and see Brian. And his hurt. And listen to his apology and hear his plea for forgiveness.”
But what about me?
The pastor said, “Think about what God would want you to do.”
Now it was the pastor who wasn’t playing fair. Always using the truth of God to try to get people to do right.
Alexis had to pull back the strings. She tried to grab them, tried to wrap up her heart once again. But Brian’s words, his apology, his pleas pulled the strings from her. And inside, God tore them away, leaving her heart open.
Pastor Ford walked around her desk and crouched in front of Alexis. Only when the pastor used her fingers to wipe her cheek did Alexis feel the tears in her eyes.
“This is going to be one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to do. It’s going to take courage and strength to stand by Brian.”
I don’t want to stand by him,
her head said, even though her heart told a different story.
“But you already have everything that you need, because you have God.”
Alexis was pissed. Pissed that she was crying. Pissed that her heart strings hadn’t held up. Pissed that she still loved Brian.
“Don’t let pride and stubbornness stop you from doing what God is telling your heart,” Pastor Ford whispered before she stood. She leaned against the edge of her desk and spoke to both of them, “I counsel a lot of people, and if there’s a couple who can make it, it’s the two of you. Alexis, understand that as a Christian, once someone has truly confessed and repented, it is our job to forgive.” She turned to Brian. “I applaud you for stepping up. For being in therapy and not waiting until you were caught to handle this. That’s proof to me that you’re sorry and you’re serious. But this is the beginning for Alexis; you have a lot of work to do to help her.”
He nodded. “I’m willing to do anything for her to forgive me.”
Pastor Ford held up her hand. “It’s not just about forgiveness. Sometimes that can be the easy part, because forgiveness is about the past. The difficult step is the future, and that’s where reconciliation and trust comes in. It will be a long time before she trusts you again. And without trust, you will never have reconciliation.
“Your job is to help her trust you. If she wants to know where you are every minute, you have to tell her. Whatever she needs, you have to give her. Any question she asks, you have to answer.”
“I’m willing to do that.”
Pastor Ford nodded. “Just make sure that you’re totally honest.”
Brian was slow to agree this time.
The pastor smiled. “Alexis, is there anything you want to say?”
Alexis sniffed, shook her head, and wished she’d never answered Pastor Ford’s call this morning.
“I’m going to give you both scriptures to study, because the nature of sexual addiction is spiritual. It’s the kind of darkness that Jesus has authority over. And you have to stand with that authority.”
Alexis thought about her plans—how she was supposed to already be home, packing, leaving.
“Alexis,” the pastor said, “do you think you can do this?”
It took her a moment to put the words together. “I don’t know.”
Inside her heart, she heard a gentle, guiding whisper,
If he had cancer, would you leave him?
She said, “I…I…I can try,” before her sobs began.
Brian rushed to his wife and held her as their pastor pushed herself from the desk, and without a word, left Brian and Alexis alone.
H
E HAD HOPE
.
Brian couldn’t remember the last time he’d left home with a smile on his face and hope in his heart. But that’s what he had this morning.
He jumped inside his car, but then sat back and remembered the weekend.
He’d had few expectations when he and Alexis had finally walked out of Pastor Ford’s office. He’d followed her home, but even after they’d given their cars to the valet and ridden up in the elevator, she hadn’t spoken a word. Hadn’t even looked at him.
When they’d stepped inside their apartment, he’d asked, “Alex, is there anything you want to talk about?”
That was the first time she looked at him. But only for a moment before she marched into their bedroom and slammed the door behind her.
At least she’s home
, he told himself.
For the rest of the day, he’d waited for her to come out. He’d been tempted to knock on the door—to see if she was all right, to see if she wanted something to eat, some coffee to drink. To see if she still loved him. But he’d left her alone, and when the day gave way to night, he wandered into the guest bedroom, stripped, and dropped onto the bed.
He’d been lying awake for hours when he heard the door to their bedroom squeak. He held his breath, waited, wondered if he should get up.
He had his answer when she appeared at the door. In the deep dark of the night, he could only see her silhouette, outlined by the white thigh-long nightshirt that she wore. All he wanted to do was take her into his arms, and make her love him again. But he stayed in bed. Stayed waiting.
“Are you awake?” she whispered.
“Yeah.”
He flung the blanket away from his body, but she held her hand up. “Don’t.”
He didn’t move, only because he didn’t want to drive her away. After a moment, she inched toward him. Then she sat on the floor, crossed her legs, and rested her elbows on her knees.
Silent, staring moments, then, “I’m willing to try,” she spoke softly.
His heart pounded, but he remained quiet, knowing there was more to come.
“I don’t like this. I don’t understand it. But I think you love me.”
“I do.” He wasn’t sure if she heard his whisper.
“It’s taken awhile, but I believe this is an illness. And if you’re sick, I can’t leave you. I have to help.”
“Thank you.”
More silent time. “I need therapy, too.” She stopped as if her words surprised her. “I want to go to Dr. Perkins with you.”
He hesitated, but he wanted to give her anything that she needed. So he said, “Definitely.”
She said nothing more. Just sat staring at him before she rose. He moved to get up with her, but she held her hand up again. Shook her head. He had lain back down. Heard his bedroom door close. And he smiled.
In the morning, he’d knocked on the door to see if she wanted to go to church. She didn’t answer, and like Saturday night, she’d spent Sunday locked away from him.
It had been difficult to watch the day’s hours pass without the sight of her, but he remembered the night before. He held onto that hope.
Then in the middle of last night, she came to him again. She moved toward the bed, pushed the covers aside, and then laid beside him. He wrapped his arms around her as if she were fine china. Even when he heard the steady rhythm of her breathing, he didn’t close his eyes. Just held her. And prayed, giving thanks, through the rest of the night.
With a smile now, he backed from his parking space and within thirty minutes, he was sitting in front of Dr. Perkins with a new attitude.
“Things must be going well,” the doctor said.
“Yeah,” he nodded. He recounted for Dr. Perkins the session with their pastor. “So, Alexis is home. It’s awkward. But she’s home. And she wants to do some of these sessions with me.”
“That’s important. We’ll still keep it to twice a week, but one of those days will be for both of you.”
He nodded.
The doctor said, “You know, when Alexis comes in, she’s going to want to know a couple of things—like how did this begin, and what guarantees are there that you won’t start this behavior again.”
“It won’t happen again, Doctor,” Brian said.
“That’s what you say, and that’s what you want. But Brian, we both know that the triggers that caused this addiction are still there. You have a highly stressful life.”
“But I’m aware now. I’m not going to relapse.”
“I agree that you know how to control the urges. But that won’t stop Alexis’s questions.”
He wondered if his wife being in these sessions was a good idea. “Do you think Alexis will be able to handle this?”
The doctor nodded. “Brian, if this illness was rated, you’d be at the low end. I’m going to make sure she understands that.” The doctor paused. “The only thing I won’t be able to help with is if you don’t tell her everything she wants to know.”
Brian clasped his hands together. He already knew what the doctor would say next.
“I’ve asked you before,” she began, “and I let it go because you’ve been making progress, but I’ve been doing this long enough to know there’s more to your story. Now that Alexis will be joining us, I need to know the whole truth so that I can help.”
Brian stood, turned away as if he couldn’t face the doctor. He let time pass before his confessions began, “I’ve been with a lot of women.”
“I’ll make sure that Alexis understands it was never about other women, never about the destination. Just the journey.”
He wondered if his wife would understand the difference. Wondered if his wife would understand that about Jasmine.
“One of the women,” he began, “my wife knows.”
“A friend of hers?”
“No, an enemy.”
When the doctor didn’t say anything, Brian turned around. Her face was stiff, as always, not a hint of judgment.
“I had sex with a woman my wife despises. A woman who tried to ruin our best friends’ marriage.”
The doctor looked at him, knowing there was more.
“I had sex with the same woman that my best friend slept with.”
Still, the doctor spoke as if she had no opinion, “That fits the pattern.”
Brian chuckled without humor. “Glad to know that I’m normal—at far as sex addicts go.”
“So, you remained friends with this woman, but your wife didn’t?”
He shook his head. “No. Jasmine…she lives in New York.” He sat down. “Doctor, talk about the journey…it was such a high to get on the plane for the sole purpose of chasing this woman. The thing I’ll never understand is I don’t even like her. But the fact that we were on opposite ends of the country, the fact that I knew she didn’t want me, made it better,” he said, sounding like he was reliving the high.
“Brian, I thought you understood this addiction by now. That is classic behavior. You chose women you couldn’t, wouldn’t connect with. Women who would never threaten your marriage. The chase was a game—a release from the pressures.” Dr. Perkins leaned back in her chair. “It won’t be difficult to explain Jasmine to your wife.”
“You don’t know the history. My marriage won’t survive this.”
“I think it will. You’re past the toughest part with Alexis. She understands that you’re sick. Jasmine is part of that sickness.”
Maybe
.
“Tell Alexis about Jasmine while we’re talking about the disease. She needs to see Jasmine as part of the addiction.”
Maybe
.
“If you wait to tell her or if she finds out sometime later, separate from this therapy, then Jasmine becomes an affair. And that will threaten your marriage.”
Maybe it could have been that simple—if that was the end. He said, “You wanted the whole truth.”
“Yes, I need to know everything.”
“It’s not small.”
“If it’s part of the illness, it is.”
He took a breath. “Jasmine had a baby. I think…it’s mine.”
It had taken a year and a half for her emotions to show. For Dr. Perkins to widen her eyes and open her mouth. For her to lean back in the chair and ask, “A baby?” But then, she paused, relaxed, became the composed doctor again. “It’s all part of the addiction,” she said simply.
“That’s all you have to say?” He shook his head. “So what am I supposed to say to my wife—that I’m addicted and I have a baby?”
“That’s the only thing you can say. You would have never been with Jasmine, she would have never become pregnant, if you weren’t an addict.” She leaned forward and in her clinical voice continued, “This is big, I admit it. But you’re not the first man this has happened to. Don’t even think about keeping this a secret,” she warned. “Tie Jasmine to the disease. If you don’t tell her, Alexis will know that you’re hiding something. I guarantee that after all that’s happened, her emotional radar will be sharp.”
The doctor made sense. Maybe he could pass Jasmine and her baby off as just one of the effects of his illness: self-loathing, depression, Jasmine, a baby.
Maybe
.
“I’ll think about it, Doctor.”
She nodded. “Okay, let’s begin. Are your episodes still decreasing?”
As one side of his mind talked to the doctor, the other side considered her advice. Could he really tell Alexis about Jasmine and keep their marriage intact?
Maybe it was time to honor Alexis with the truth.
But first, he had to find out what
was
the truth. It was only intuition, not a fact, that Jasmine’s baby was his. If God was on his side, he was wrong.
Either way, he had to find out.