6
TERA
It's been six months since I’ve heard from Xander. It's what I wanted and yet, I didn't. He's moved on. I've seen him in photos, magazines, and on the gossip channels with models and actresses; gorgeous, beautiful women—but never the same woman twice.
Over the last six months, Shea's come to hang out a lot and I've focused on my painting. Dante—Mr. DiMora—had a construction crew install a stairway going from my apartment down to the studio. It's all enclosed and protected with a keypad lock. I really think he's going to too much trouble to appease my needs. He's always been that way.
When he found out Xander and I are on a break, he asked me on a date. I looked at him and laughed. Really? I don'tgo anywhere. I can't. The second I get too close to the door, I begin to shake and sweat. It's as bad as it gets—the panic.
Agoraphobia is what my psychiatrist calls it. I call it me not trusting anyone I don't know, especially in open spaces. Some days, I can't even stand by the windows to look at the people below. I get a panicked feeling that they're staring at me, that they are just biding their time and scoping things out before they come back here to hurt me. It's those days I close the pale pink sheers. I can still look out, but up here, no one can see in.
I am a mess. My heart's a wreck. My head's chaotic. My body's damaged.
I want so much to go in and get the tests done to see if I'm able to carry children, but I don't know how that would work. How would I get there without giving myself a panic-induced heart attack or hyperventilate?
It's really a moot point right now, anyway. I'm not with Xander anymore, and I certainly don't want to have children with anyone else.
Well, that's telling, isn't it?
My subconscious mind reveals this to me a lot. But I do nothing about it. And I won't. Xander's living his life the way he's meant to—even if it's killing me inside that I'm not a part of it.
Tonight, I'm having dinner with Dante again. It's our fifth date. I've cooked or we've ordered in up until now, but tonight he's got something special planned down in the gallery.
The back part of the gallery was added on to accommodate my studio upstairs. In that section downstairs is the new office area and a small bedroom for nights the gallery shows run late.
I'm putting the finishing touches on my lipstick when I see Linc leaning against the doorjamb, watching me.
"What?" I ask, seeing the judgment in his eyes.
He shakes his head. "You're really going to do this?"
"Do what? Move on? Date a handsome man who is kind and generous? If that's what you're asking then, yes. I am going to do this," I reply, knowing full well he's asking about me sleeping with Dante. It's been a gradual lead up to this point. I know what tonight's about and Lincoln is no dummy. There's a reason we're having dinner downstairs.
"You're going to fuck him. I know you are. What I don't get is, why? Why are you doing this to yourself?" he asks.
I turn to face him. I no longer get angry or upset or, even, guilty when he asks me this.
"Have you seen the press? He'shappy, Lincoln. He's living the life of a rockstar and I want that for him so much," I admit.
"Even if it doesn't include you?"
I nod. "Yes. Even if it doesn't include me."
"You're an idiot."
I just sigh.
"You think he's happy?"
"I do. His smile isn't faked. It's genuine, Linc. You see it as well as I do. He hasn't smiled like that in so long, not one ofthosesmiles."
"And you think that has to do with you being here and him being there. Him doing whatever with whomever and vice versa."
I nod.
"I've talked to Ethan a lot. Xander isn't as happy as you think he is. He still worries about you whether you allow him to be here with you or not—and because he's there and you're here, he worries even more. He calls me, T.Me.To find out if you're okay," Linc informs me.
"I know. I'm doing just fine. I hope you tell him that."
