trembling from anger or fear.
“This is highly unorthodox, but I am a psychologist. Your mother wanted me
to talk with you, to help you work through whatever pain you were going through. I planned on meeting you the old-fashioned way – by introduction –
until the bathroom incident. Caitlyn, I knew I had to reach you. I took a risk, and, sweet girl, it worked.”
“You knew I would be the whore, who quickly followed the rich older man
off to his hotel room?” I choked out the words.
“No, Caitlyn, I knew you would be the scared little girl seeking a way out of
the life you found yourself in. Do not let your anger ruin the week we shared. I
know you found yourself again.”
We talked for hours about what I had learned about myself. I understood why
he chose such a dramatic way to reach me. The desire I felt for him washed away to gratitude. When the sun rose, I gathered my things and we said our goodbyes.
“Here’s my number if you ever need to talk, Caitlyn.” Nick handed me a slip
of paper.
I took it, but we both knew I would never use it. He had been right. I was broken, but I found myself again.
With that newfound strength, I promised to forget the pain from my past and
to build the life I was meant to have.
When I finally turned my phone back on, it blew up with messages from Peter.
Not one of them indicated concern for my safety. Each was a reminder of what I
really meant to him.
Peter: Where r u? Bring dinner.
Peter:???
Peter: Seriously!
Peter: There are hotter bitches waiting to get on this train.
Peter: So this is how it is?
Peter: Come on!
Caitlyn: I’m done with you. Have a nice life, Peter. Find someone else to
support you. I deserve better. Don’t contact me anymore.
Before he could respond and derail my progress, I deleted the messages and
blocked his number. For the first time in a long time, I knew I was in control of my life. I was too good for Peter. I deserved better.
Scrolling through my messages, I was surprised there was not one picture or
text from Thomas. Fear filled me. Did I chase away my only true friend?
Caitlyn: Hey, I’m home. Come over?
Thomas: On my way!
As if he had been waiting for me to reach out to him, Thomas showed up twenty minutes later, bearing an iced caramel mocha. Setting the drink down, he
hugged me tightly. After our greeting, we settled on the patio, and I explained where I had been all week.
Thomas listened quietly. Too quiet for my chatty friend. Realization slowly
sunk in.
“You knew about Nick?” I accused.
Thomas sucked in a deep breath and nodded. “Your mom came to me a
month ago to find out what was going on with you.”
