Beautiful Illusion updated chapter 41&42 on pg 16 - Page 6

"Uh, how long will you be staying here?" I asked him.
"Three more weeks. I'm checked in here for a total of 30 days."
I tried to make a joke of it. "You see any celebrities in this place?"
"Well, yeah, but I can't tell you who they are. This is the place where they come when they are-"
"Dehydrated and exhausted," we said in unison. We both laughed at that.
Ryan said "Celebrities are people, too. They have issues, probably more than the average person. And this is a good place to work on things. It's very calm and peaceful, and they have a world-class stable of doctors here. That's why I came here, specifically."
"You ever been here before?"
"No. This is my first time inpatient." He looked at me. "Uh, this isn't going to be easy for me. Those memories that I repressed were awful, worse than what my father did to me. I know that sounds odd, but I could get more closure on what my father did because I was able to confront him. But most of those people at those parties are anonymous people. I can't confront them, so that's why I'm having problems."
"That makes sense."
"So, what you got going back home?" Ryan asked.
"Well, I'm here for this week, at least. Next week, uh, let me check my iPhone." I pulled out my iPhone. "Um, it looks like I can be here next week, too." I'll just have to do some more rearranging. But he needs me, that's most important.

"I owe you," Ryan said. "I know that you have a life, and it can't just stop for me. But it means the world to me that you can take the time out to be here."
I smiled tightly. I hadn't planned on being here two weeks, and it was a hassle even getting the one week off. Things will blow up back home, no doubt. I patted his hand reassuredly. He had not yet known me well enough to know when I'm covering up anxiety. I have all sorts of "tells" for that sort of thing, one of which is patting the person's hand.
It was getting to be 8 PM, and visiting hours were winding up. I packed up the food, what was left of it. "Um, I think I'll just go to my car from here, if you don't mind," I said.
"I don't think you can do that. I think you have to go through the main door."
He was right, of course. If I would be able to just get to my car from there, anybody could do that. That wouldn't be that big of a deal for people like Ryan, who was there voluntarily. It wouldn't be so great for some of the other patients there. So, we made our way back into the main building, holding hands.
"I wish I could stay," I said.
"I wish you could, too."
He ended up walking me to my car. He kissed my forehead. "Thanks again for coming. Uh, I'll see you tomorrow?" He looked hopeful.

"Of course."
I came back the following evening. This time, he was waiting for me by the front door, where the receptionist sits. I could see the receptionist eyeing him. He had his hands in his pockets casually. As usual, his beauty took my breath away. It occurred to me that the way that he looks was most of the reason why I felt insecure around him, even more than his wealth. I just never saw myself with somebody who looked like him. Yes, my past boyfriends have been cute or even handsome, but they haven't been stratospheres out of my league like this guy.
And, somehow, his pain was making him even more beautiful. He always had a vulnerability that I never could quite place. I never knew what the source was. Now, I knew, and I also knew that his vulnerability ran deep, deeper than I could possibly fathom.
And it was precisely this moment that I knew that I was in love with him, too.
He smiled broadly as I approached. "Hello, beautiful!"
I always smiled when he called me "beautiful." Here he was, indescribably beautiful, and he thinks that I am the one who is. Of course, I am not quite the mess I was when I met him for the very first time. I was cutting my carbs lately, and the weight was starting to come off. I also started taking better care of my skin, making sure that I that I was drinking lots of water, and I had even started moisturizing some. I had also tried to get bi-weekly gel manicures, which were amazing, because they lasted the entire two weeks, just as promised. So, I was less of a toad then I used to be, so I guess that was something.

But beautiful? That was stretching it just a bit.
I smiled back. "Hey!"
"Would you like to go out on the town tonight?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, I'm here voluntarily, so I asked if could leave tonight. They said that I could. But I do have to be back by 10 PM."
"Awesome!"
We made our way to where I was parked. "Do you want to drive?" I asked.
"Sure."
We found a beautiful Italian restaurant in Beverly Hills. The waiter brought us bread and water, and I ordered a glass of Pinot Grigio and Ryan ordered a Scotch Rocks, which was his familiar standard.
"So," I began. "How was your day?"
"Pretty good. I have been doing intensive journaling, and talking with one particular therapist about my memories. I have also done group therapy that is focused for people like me. People who've had sexual trauma."
I was afraid to ask, but I knew that he wanted me to. I knew that he needed me to know as much as possible, because I was going to be his "person." I was finally starting to get that.
"Have you remembered anything new?"
"Just more details. I'm starting to remember some faces, but the names still aren't real clear to me."
I wish that he could remember names. I wish that I could put a hit out on each and every one of them, and that they would each die a slow, painful, death. Or go through what they put Ryan through.

Ryan seemed unruffled talking about this, though. He didn't seem as enraged as I felt at that moment. I imagined that he had gotten his emotions out, so he was able to somehow accept it. But I looked at my hand, which was clutching my wine glass so hard that I was surprised that it didn't break. My hand was also shaking uncontrollably.
Ryan noticed this. "This is making you uncomfortable."
"No, enraged."
He put his hand on mine. "Do you mind if I keep talking about this, or do you want to change the subject?"
"Go ahead. You need to talk, and I promised to be there for you every step of the way."
He took a deeper breath. "What I'm trying to figure out through all this intensive therapy and journaling is why I, uh, liked the abuse."
I tried to make my face as impassive as possible. I didn't want him to see the curiosity and horror that I felt when he said that last part.
He continued. "My therapist told me that I was experiencing a classic case of Stockholm Syndrome."
I nodded. I had a passing familiarity with Stockholm Syndrome.
"I've come to realize that I depended upon her, and, at first, she protected me. Or so I thought. She took me away from that house, and that was really all that I wanted at first. Actually, that was all that I ever wanted, period, from her. Then, when I realized that she was not my protector at all, but that I was essentially held captive by her - simply because the alternative was unthinkable, going back to Benjamin - I started to sympathize with her, and didn't really see that what she was doing was wrong. It was my defense mechanism. I had no choice but to stay with her, and I would have done anything to please her. So, I did. At least, that is what I am getting out of therapy, as far as why I liked the sex and the, uh, abuse."

I waited for him to go on. I was trying to absorb this, all that I could, trying to understand him so that I knew the best way to help him.
"So, I'm trying to work through this the best that I can."
What a crazy bitch.
The waiter came around for our order. I had already told Ryan what it was that I wanted to order, so Ryan ordered for me, like he usually does.
"The lady will have the chicken parmesan, and I will take your Spaghetti Carbonara. The lady will also have a Caesar salad, and I will have your house salad."
"Very good."
After the waiter left, Ryan looked at me. "So, how are you liking your accommodations?"
"Oh, my god! I'm loving it! I could never afford this room in a million years for even one night, and I can't believe that I get to stay there for 14 days and nights! It's also a lot of fun driving the Volvo. It sure beats my usual jalopy. Alexis must have spent a pretty penny for all of this!"
Just then it occurred to me that Alexis didn't pay for all of it, or any of it, for that matter. I narrowed my eyes. "Wait a second. She didn't pay for all of this. You did."
He looked embarrassed. "Uh, I didn't want you to feel obligated to me. But I also wanted to make sure that I made it worth your while to come out here. Alexis did make the arrangements, but I paid for it. Sorry for the ruse."

I felt a little speechless. I did feel obligated to him now, but, at the same time, I had to rearrange my life to come out here, so I guessed that we were even.
I put my hand on his. "Thank you very much for the room and the car."
"Thank you very much for coming out here to be with me."
He took a deep breath. Several of them, in fact. He appeared to be shaking a little as well. "Uh, I have another confession to make to you."
I nodded, covering his hand with my hand again.
"Uh, I actually ended up at the Beverly Hills place because I, uh, had a major relapse with the drugs." He looked ashamed. "When the memories started coming back so quickly and so strongly, I went back to my crutch from before. Before I knew it, I was right back into it." He sighed. "I was somehow able to catch myself before it got too far, because I knew that after a week of getting high that I had to get back into rehab." He looked at me with pleading eyes. "I hope that you can handle all of this."
I looked into his eyes sincerely, my hand covering his. "Ryan, you're very brave. You couldn't help what happened to you in the past, when you were a little boy and an adolescent. You can help what happens to you today, and I think that you are amazing for helping yourself. A lot people would just keep going on with the drugs after having a relapse, and would OD or just keep going down the addiction road. You aren't doing that, and, for that, I think you're my hero."

He smiled, then stared at me for a little while, with compassion and love in his expression. I blushed and looked away, as I always do when he gazes at me intently. His eyes are too intense for me to look into for any period of time. He blinked a few times.
The waiter was back, pouring some more water. I ordered another glass of wine, and Ryan got another Scotch.
"I wish that I could go back to the room with you," he said.
I smiled. "And have your way with me?"
"It's been way too long. Way too long. Way.too.long."
I smiled. "Yes, it has. It certainly has." But I got a little serious. "But you're raw right now. I don't want to confuse things. Maybe being physical isn't want you need right now."
"Maybe not. You're right about that. I'm getting confused about sex, because I'm realizing how much it was used as a weapon against me for so long. That's one of the things that I'm trying to work through while I'm here. But I'd like to sleep with you. Just sleep and hold you like before."
"That would be nice."
"Uh, I know that you have a beautiful room and all, but if you could spend the night with me, it would mean a lot."
I nodded. "Is that okay to do?"
"I already checked to make sure. You can stay with me tonight. I can have one overnight guest a week."

"Of course."
We made our way down to the cafeteria. The food there was excellent, not at all like the kind of food that you might associate with a mental health/rehab facility. I ordered eggs benedict, suddenly feeling famished. Ryan got blueberry pancakes with eggs and turkey bacon. Both of us also ordered orange juice.
After breakfast, we made our way up to his counselor's office. The counselor was a woman in her 50s, with wild, curly black hair and glasses. She was attractive in a stereotypically librarian sort of way. She was dressed in black dress pants, a lavender silk top, and had on Christian Leboutin shoes.
"Dr. Silver, this is my girlfriend, Iris." Back to being just a girlfriend, huh?
She reached out her perfectly manicured hand, and I shook it. "It is good to meet you. Please sit down." She articulated every word.
I sat down in the large leather chair. Ryan sat in another leather chair. I wished that there was a love seat that both of us could sit on.
She addressed me. "I understand that you are living with Ryan?"
"Yes." It went without saying that I would be moving back in with him when I got back into Kansas City.
"We like to have these meetings with the support system, to give you some understanding of what to expect."
I nodded.
"The first thing that you need to know is that Ryan will not be taking any kind of prescription medication. That was his choice, and it was determined that he does not need any kind of prescription medications. So, you will not have to worry about making sure that he is med compliant."

That is a relief.
She went on. "Ryan has experienced trauma, as I am sure that he told you. He is going through post-traumatic stress. He wanted me to make sure that you would be able to handle the issues which might crop up."
I silently waited for her to continue.
"There might be nightmares, avoidance behaviors, emotional outbursts. He might be hyper-vigilant about certain things. There is a chance that he might experience anger and severe depression. We are going to monitor this, and I have contacted his therapist back home. She is giving him a referral to a psychiatrist who might be able to prescribe some medication if he experiences periods of profound depression. Right now, Ryan does not want to take medication - he feels that he is strong enough to handle this on his own, but he is open to it in the future if it becomes necessary. Also, Ryan might experience persistent flashbacks. Additional memories may flood him at any time. Any further contact with Rochelle should be strictly prohibited until he is stronger and more able to deal with what happened to him."
Ryan looked at me. "I hope that you can handle all of this."
"Of course. I won't let you down again."
He looked relieved.
Of course, I had practice handling people who were having problems. My sister had suffered from bi-polar disorder for most of her life, so angry outbursts and suicidal depression had been something that I have experienced since as long as I could remember. Plus, I have made friends who have mental disabilities, because I went through support groups with my sister and made friends through this group. One of the women whom I befriended, in particular, would go from 0 to 60 in the blink of an eye. She would be nice as pie one moment, and the very next moment she would be screaming at the top of her lungs, right out in the driveway, in front of the neighbors. It was literally as if a flip was switched, and she was off to the races.

I also had boyfriends who had anger issues. One guy berated me, verbally abusing me at a hockey game that he was playing in. I had driven out to him because he had forgotten his water bottle, so I had driven out to give him his water bottle at 10 o'clock at night. I was already in my pajamas when he called. I got dressed, drove out there and waited in the stands for a break in the action when I could give him his water bottle. He apparently wanted me, however, go meet him in the dugout area (or whatever that area is called where the hockey players wait). Not knowing this, I waited patiently. At some point, he threw off his helmet and screamed at me at the top of his lungs, calling me stupid and cussing me out, just because I didn't know to go to the dugout area to give him his water. The people in front of me in the stands looked at me like "are you going to take that bullshit?" I was mortified, to say the least. I left without a word, after throwing the water bottle at him.
He called later, not to apologize, but to make sure that his dog was ok in my care, because I was getting ready to dog-sit his dog for a week when this happened.
He never did apologize, but defended his actions, like it was my fault. And, unfortunately, he was one of many with uncontrollable anger issues.

"Well, I like Alexis, a lot. She's really a nice girl when she is, uh, sober and not manic."
To this, Dr. Silver said "That's not the point. The point is, she is a bad influence. Ryan needs to make sure that he changes his playground and his playmates, and Alexis was always Ryan's main playmate when it comes to drugs. And Alexis was the one who made him relapse in the first place."
I said "I don't understand. Ryan told me that he relapsed because of the memories flooding back after seeing Rochelle, and that Alexis actually intervened and made sure that he got help here."
Ryan looked at me. "Yes, but honey, remember that I relapsed that one time with her because she was threatening suicide unless I shot up with her? I didn't do it anymore after that, until I saw Rochelle, but Dr. Silver thinks that that incident was the catalyst for me getting back into using. I got a 'taste' for the drug again that night, so Dr. Silver thinks that was the main reason why I turned to it again."
I thought about it. I was really warming up to Alexis. She had become a friend, and she did make the arrangements for me to come out here, even if Ryan was actually the one who paid for everything. I would be sad if Ryan had to cut her off, and it seemed that Ryan was good for her, too. Ryan had made sure that she got help, herself. But, once again, this is not about me. This is about him, and if Dr. Silver says that Alexis should be cut off, then Alexis should be cut off.

"Well, uh, if Dr. Silver thinks that Alexis should be persona non grata then I guess that is how it is going to have to be."
Ryan looked defeated. Alexis had been in his life since they were 13. He had known her for 20 years. Plus, Alexis might just start her crazy shit all over again, threatening him and coming over, pounding on the door, higher than a kite. I started to think that there was wisdom in keeping her around myself, on our terms as opposed to her terms. If he cut her off, she would be coming around on her terms, not ours, and that is not a pretty sight.
So, I looked at Dr. Silver. "Uh, is there any way that Alexis can remain Ryan's friend? I mean, she's been around Ryan for 20 years, and, uh, she'll just come over, anyway, even if Ryan doesn't want her to."
Dr. Silver stated emphatically "I understand that she comes over unannounced. I suggested that Ryan obtain a restraining order against her." She looked meaningfully at Ryan "Of course, it is completely your free will and choice. But you know my position on it."
"I do," Ryan said. "And I will make up my own mind. I did want Iris' input, but it seems that she's not really sure what to do, either."
Guilty as charged. Being definitive was never my strong suit.
Dr. Silver looked at both of us disapprovingly. Her look to me said "I can already tell that you're not going to be what he needs if you can't even back me up on this."

I suddenly felt three inches tall.
Dr. Silver stood up, and looked at her watch. "Well, I think we're done here. Do you have any questions, Ms. Snowe?"
"I, uh, no. Not right now."
"That's fine. We will probably have another meeting before Ryan leaves."
"Uh, I'm only going to be in town through next week. I think that Ryan is here for another week after that."
To this, Ryan said "Actually, I'm going to be leaving with you. I think that I'm getting what I need here, so I'd like to leave a week early. Besides, you don't have transportation home, and I would love to fly you on my plane."
Oh, yes, the private plane. That should be fun. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want you to cut anything short."
Dr. Silver was now boring holes in both us. If looks could kill...
Dr. Silver turned to Ryan. "Could I have a word with Ms. Snowe in private, please?"
Ryan nodded, and left the room. I suddenly felt like a bad child who was about to be scolded, or a bad employee who was about to be fired. I shuddered, remembering my firing when I was 22 years old and fresh out of college.
The feeling now was just like that feeling.
There was no beating around the bush. "Ms. Snowe, I hope that you're taking this whole thing seriously. This isn't a time to play house and give him what he wants. You need to be the adult here, and make sure that he only does things which are in his best interest. Not yours, his. You need to stop thinking of yourself and think about him."

I was stunned. I wasn't aware that I was only thinking of myself. "I, I, I..." I couldn't find the words. I was instantly ashamed. "I, I am s-s-s-s-orry, I did-did-didn't think that I w-w-w-as only thinking of m-m-myself," I said. God, this woman is intimidating.
I couldn't wait to get out of there.
She raised an eyebrow. "You have to tell Ryan either that you will stay an extra week, or that you will leave without him, but he has to stay the entire 30 days. That last week is very important for his recovery."
I nodded assent.
"And you have to discourage him from seeing Alexis. She is going to pose problems for his recovery and may even trigger a relapse. From what Ryan tells me, Alexis is unstable on the best of days, and she often relapses herself."
I nodded again. That's true. But she doesn't understand that Alexis just comes over whenever she feels like it. She also probably doesn't understand that Alexis is prone to blackmailing Ryan when things aren't going right.
We sat staring at each other for a few minutes. Then she spoke. "I hope that I have made myself clear."
I nodded. "Crystal."
Then she nodded, picked up some paperwork and started writing. I wasn't sure if she was writing something for me, or if she just abruptly, and rudely, started on other paperwork as a way to have me leave.
I soon found out that it was the latter situation.

She looked up from her paperwork. "You can leave whenever you feel like it."
"Oh, oh, okay. Uh, bye." I left, and she never glanced back up from her paperwork.
Whatta bitch.
I walked out, a bit dazed. Ryan was waiting for me in the hall. "Is she always like this?" I asked.
"Pretty much."
"That woman has some etiquette learning to do."
He smiled. "So, what did she say to you?"
I was honest. "She said that I need to look after your best interests in making decisions. That you might need some help with that. And she reiterated that Alexis should not be a part of your life."
I sighed. It looked like I was going to have to clear another week on my schedule here, so that I could leave with Ryan. I reached into my bag, and looked at my iPhone. The week after next was filled with hearings - pre-trial hearings, bankruptcy meetings, even a sentencing hearing. Melinda is going to be pissed, and I am going to be broke as a joke if I am going to pay people to cover all of that.
I blinked and sighed.
"Uh, Iris, it's ok if you leave when you were going to. Dr. Silver is right, I need to stay the whole 30 days, but you can still fly home on my plane."
"No, that's ok. I, I, will stay here another week with you." I flashed a fake smile, knowing that the logistics of that was going to be next to impossible.

Somehow, Ryan understood my dilemma. "I would love for you to stay here, if it's at all possible. So, I, uh, just sent your assistant $20,000 so that you can pay people to cover for you. I hope that isn't too presumptuous."
I was dumbfounded. How did he send that money so fast?
He read my mind. "I have this app. on my phone where I can transfer money to anybody immediately. Uh, even if you don't want to do that, and you want to go on home and attend to your responsibilities, you can keep that money. It's my gift to you for being here."
"Does my assistant know what this money is for?"
"It's in your account, of course, but I e-mailed your assistant about it, explaining what the money is for. Does she have access to your account?"
"Yes, yes, of course." Good thing I trust her. "Uh, let me call her and see if she can round people up to cover my hearings." $20,000 will go a long way. Then, it occurred to me that this whole trip was setting him back some $50,000, or more, now, with the extra weeks of staying at the hotel and renting the car. Guess he really does have money to burn.
I bit my tongue, wanting to protest all the money he was spending, but then I remembered Alexis' reaction when I tried to protest her spending money on me. This is just how the rich are, I guess. Money is literally no object.

"Good. Give him the files and make sure that he meets with the clients beforehand, or at least talks to them on the phone, so that they don't freak out."
"Okay."
"Thanks, uh, there'll be a nice Christmas bonus for you. You've been a life-saver."
"Don't mention it." Melinda was used to my lack of responsibility to my clients.
I, however, always felt guilty about it.
Turning to Ryan, I said "Good news. Melinda found somebody to cover everything for $5,000. So - "
"So, you can keep the rest of the money for yourself." There was no brooking dissent here, as I could tell from his expression. He smiled. "Besides, I heard you say that you were going to give Melinda a nice Christmas bonus, so that money will come in handy for that."
I started to protest anyway. "It's my pleasure coming out here, and being with you. That money is too much. I-"
"Please let me do this for you." He looked at me. "In all seriousness, I know that this is a huge sacrifice for you. I know that coming out here is screwing up your practice. So I'm happy to be able to do something for you to make things easier."
I could only look at him. There was still a very large part of me that would never be able to get used to his generosity, simply because it was something that I had never before experienced. I was never a spoiled child - my parents never had the money to spoil me. And my previous boyfriends, even if they had money, were pretty tight with it. Now, here was this guy who was willing to spend thousands of dollars on me without even thinking about it. It was disconcerting and felt wrong. At the same time, I knew that it was something that he felt that he had to do, so I tried not to protest too much.

He continued. "Besides, uh, I wanted to show you some of my appreciation for sticking with me during this time. It may not be easy for you all the time, and I hope that you can handle it all." He smiled. "But I think that you'll be able to."
I thought of mean Dr. Silver and all that she said. I had to get out of my own head and not think of my needs for once. This, too, was going to be difficult, because it had been my experience that, if I wasn't looking after my own needs, nobody else was, either, and I always ended up coming last.
This was all going to be a severe adjustment for me.
At this time, I knew that it was time for me to leave for the day, so that Ryan could get on with his intensive therapy and whatever else he had going on that day. "I have to leave now, I guess. Thanks for the breakfast and everything."
Ryan looked interminably sad. "I wish that you could stay."
"Me too. But, I know that you have work to do."
He nodded. "But you'll be back later on, right?"
"Of course." Duh. What kind of person would I be if I didn't spend time with him when he was sacrificing so much for me to be here, at least monetarily-wise?
I ended up back at the hotel room, and decided to watch some television and enjoy the sunken tub while I was there. It wouldn't hurt to do a little relaxing, and I found out how tired I was when I fell asleep in front of the television. It made sense - I got little sleep the previous night because Ryan was clinging so tightly to me throughout the night. I realized that this might be the way that it would be for awhile, as he needed security and comfort, and I somehow provided that to him. He was just like a scared little boy, and I felt for him.

I woke up with a start. The alarm clock was going off. At first I had that unfamiliar, scary feeling of not knowing where I was, and being disoriented, then I remembered that I set the alarm because I was concerned that I wouldn't wake from my nap on time to see Ryan at the hospital.
"Shit." It was 4:50 PM. Visiting hours were at 5.
Well, I will just have to be a little late.
I actually got there at 5:45, which isn't so bad, considering that it was a bit of a drive in LA rush-hour traffic. Ryan was waiting for me again.
"I am so sorry I am late. I dozed off and, for some odd reason, set the alarm for really late."
"That's fine, beautiful. Um, I have to stay here tonight, so maybe we can eat in the cafeteria and watch some television in my room?"
Which is what we did. I got fried chicken, mashed potatoes and a salad - I was apparently craving comfort food - and Ryan got a Chef's Salad. "Eating light, huh? Well, that is a good thing, because you are getting fat," I teased.
He nodded. "I don't have much of an appetite to tell you the truth." It was then that I noticed how tired and pale he looked. His beautiful eyes were still as aquiline green as usual, with the little flecks of blue and gold that danced around, but he still looked tired.

"Rough day?"
He nodded. "Every day I have to force myself to remember my days with Rochelle and with my father. I'm starting to remember names and faces of some of the people at the parties. And some of the people who were at the parties were people that even you would know. I mean, they're somewhat of household names. Wall Street types, and even a few actors and models."
The rich and famous behaving badly. Who knew?
He continued. "I know that what happened is not my fault, it was my father's fault and Rochelle's fault later. But I can't help feeling ashamed of it all."
I felt for him. Right now, at this moment, he seemed so vulnerable and hurt. He continued. "I mean, I don't know why I allowed it all to happen. My father was forcing me, of course, but why couldn't I tell my mother what was going on? She would've protected me."
"Well, don't forget that your mother was being threatened by your father, so you and she had lost contact."
"Yeah, that's true. I just wish that I could've done something, tried harder to leave with my mother when I had the chance. I mean, I know why my father kept me around, and got rid of my mother and sister. I was more useful to him because of, uh, the way that I look, I guess." He looked embarrassed to acknowledge the obvious - that he was physically beautiful, so he was a wonderful asset to his pervert father and his pervert father's pervert friends.

I did know what he was going through, more than he could know. He seemed to sense this, but he had no idea how much I truly understood, because of my own experiences.
Then he made another revelation. "You have always wondered why I fell for you so quickly. I've been asking myself that question. And I think it's because I see that you're also vulnerable. You put on a brave face, but I know that you've faced tough times."
Yes, I have. I certainly have.
He dug into his chef's salad, and continued. "I've felt from the start that you would be somebody who could empathize with me, instead of merely sympathizing with me, and that you could get where I'm coming from. I felt that instantly from you." He smiled broadly. "Also, I find you very beautiful. You don't see that in yourself, I know. All you can see are your own flaws. But you're beautiful without trying. You don't need a ton of makeup, the latest designer clothes, or any of that. You're just beautiful when you wake up."
I blushed. Here is this Ralph Lauren model with an MBA from Oxford telling me that I am beautiful? I guess it is true that beauty is really in the eye of the beholder. Just like in that Twilight Zone episode with the pig faces looking at Donna Douglas, pre-Ellie Mae Clampett days.
His eyes twinkled. "Plus, I had to love the way that you MacGyvered that wine bottle into a vase for my flowers. That showed real ingenuity."

I was a little stunned. I thought that he didn't notice that detail, but, apparently, nothing escapes him. Then I smiled, and we both had a good laugh about it. "Oh, god, how embarrassing! I had meant to get a vase that week, I really did."
"No, really. I think that sealed the deal for me. I knew that you were not a pretentious type of girl, and that's so attractive to me. You have to understand, I am used to pretense. I've lived with the fakiest people imaginable. The kids at school, most of them would stab you in the back right where you stood. Social climbers, spoiled rich kids. You're not any of that, and that's so refreshing to me. And, because I'm kind of an underdog because of what was going on at home, I identify more with you than I do with any of them."
He was implying that I was an underdog.
Which I was, of course.
At last, I was starting to feel comfortable in how he felt about me. It was always a mystery, and the mystery was becoming resolved. It turns out that the very traits that I thought were my weaknesses - my lack of manners, social standing and money - were what turned him towards me. Where I saw in myself a lack of focus and sloppiness, he simply saw as a lack of artifice and pretense. Now that I knew why he loved me, perhaps, just perhaps, I could bring down my walls enough to truly love him back.

He was giving me the lusty look. As usual, my heart stopped when he looked at me like that. There was so much desire in his beautiful eyes. But, I also knew that he was raw right now. Making love would not be in his best interest, and I was going to take Dr. Silver's advice and only look out for his best interest, at least while I was there in LA with him.
"Uh, what time is it? Perhaps I need to leave?" I asked.
He looked sad again. "Yes, it's getting about that time. Visiting hours will soon be over. Let me walk you to your car."
He walked me to my rented Volvo. Giving me a long hug, and a kiss on the forehead, Ryan said "I can't wait for things to get back to normal between us. I miss making love to you more than you can ever imagine." When he said that, my breath caught. Just imagining us making love again was enough to make me weak in the knees. Then he said "I'm going get a pass to leave this weekend. Only for the weekend. Maybe I can stay with you?"
I was instantly excited. Then a little crestfallen. That beautiful, romantic hotel room with the sunken tub, and we were going to be expected to behave? This was going to be a challenge, and I found myself wondering if making love wouldn't be so bad right now.

But, no, he's going through intensive therapy that is centered around some very bad sexual abuse. Sexual contact would not be in his best interest right now.
Still, I found myself saying "Of course you can stay with me, silly."
He looked relieved. "I was hoping you would say that."
Well, of course, silly. After all, you're paying for my gorgeous room.
The weekend couldn't get there quickly enough.

Still, I wanted to go to the beach more than anything else. It had been years since I had been on a beach, and I had fond memories of beach visits earlier in my life. Granted, these beaches were on the east coast - Florida and South Carolina - and the water there was considerably warmer. But I wanted to at least try to get into the water. I even brought a boogie board.
We got to the beach, and there were a few people in the water. They looked very brave. Ryan looked at me. "You know, maybe you should have a wet suit. That would enable you to be warmer in the water."
So, we went to a surf shop and found a wet suit. Ryan insisted on buying it for me. It was over $200.
"Now, come on, Ryan, you are spoiling me."
"You deserve to be spoiled a little."
"Yeah, but you spoil me a lot."
"I like to spoil you," he said, as he gave the clerk his black Master Card.
I sighed. Ryan was having a hard time not spoiling me when I lived with him. Every day, it seemed, there were gifts from him - jewelry, clothing, shoes, purses, you name it. I was beginning to think that he wanted me to be more sophisticated, because that was the direction that the clothes were going. Granted, many of the clothes were of the business variety, because he knew that I needed more suits, and he felt that clothes make the person in court. "Iris, you have to look polished in court, when you are addressing a jury. You should try to look better than your opposition." Personally, I felt that my appeal lay in my "every girl" ways, which included the fact that most of my suits were bought at a rummage sale, and the shoes were strictly JC Penneys. The jury typically consisted of working-class people who didn't have the money for Gucci or Armani suits, or Jimmy Choo shoes, and I felt that dressing above them would actually be detrimental. Ryan didn't agree, so suddenly my closet was filled with Gucci, Chanel and Armani suits, Jimmy Choo and Christian Leboutin shoes, and Herms and Kate Spade bags.

Now he was insisting on buying me a wet suit. Well, I guess a wet suit is minor compared to everything else he was buying me. Still, I was feeling kept, which I didn't exactly like, because I was always independent.
I was broke, but independent.
I put on the wetsuit, and, when I emerged, Ryan smiled. "You look cute. You look like a little surfer girl."
I smiled back. "Uh, thanks for the wet suit."
We spread a blanket on the beach. Ryan opted not to get into the water at all, so a wet suit was not necessary for him. We put an umbrella up to keep out the sun.
I played in the water for about a half hour, glad that Ryan was looking after me, again, when he made sure that I had a wet suit. The water was absolutely freezing, and I could feel it on my feet and face.
After about an hour, I realized that the undertow had taken me far down the beach. Getting out the water, I had a hard time finding Ryan again. After about 20 minutes of looking, I finally found him. A woman was over where he was, talking to him. The woman was the typical gorgeous woman who always came onto him - long hair, large rack, rocking a bikini. I sighed.
This was another thing that I have had to get used to - women glomming onto him like he had some kind of magnet attached to him. They pretty much didn't care that I was around. They would slip him their phone number, right there in front of me. I guessed that they figured that they could take me. Ryan never gave them the time of day, of course, and a less secure woman would have been constantly jealous of the female attention. I, however, was philosophical about it all. I knew that Ryan was crazy about me, and I trusted him implicitly. I was maybe nave about it, but I chose to trust him.

He saw me approach, and waved at me easily. I looked at the woman, and she glared back. "Charlotte, this is my girlfriend, Iris."
She smiled fakely. "Hello, it is good to meet you."
I nodded.
She looked back at Ryan. "Call me." And she sauntered off.
I made a face at her as she walked away.
Ryan was smiling. "How was the water?"
"Freezing, just like you said."
"You hungry?"
"Famished, actually." I didn't eat breakfast that morning, because I was so excited about the day that I wasn't hungry. Now it was early afternoon, and I was starving.
I was looking over the menu. I looked up and Ryan was studying me. "You know, Iris, I'm so happy that you're here. These past few weeks have been hell for me, but you've made everything so much brighter."
"I'm happy to be here."
We both ordered lunch. I looked at him. Was he in the mood to talk more about what was going on?
What he said next surprised me somewhat. "When we get back to Kansas City, I want you to meet Nick."
I sighed. It had to happen, sooner or later. I kinda wanted to put it off as long as possible, but it didn't look like that was going to happen. "Sure, I'm looking forward to it."
Ryan said "Well, you're the most important thing in my life, and I really think that you will be permanent. He's also a permanent part of my life. So, it's important to me that you meet him and hopefully you will get along."

I smiled tightly. I still wasn't entirely ok with any of it, but, at the same time, I knew that I really couldn't dictate his life. I was all for giving Ryan the freedom to pursue his interests, and one of his interests just happened to be Nick.
I wondered if I was being a little too laid-back about it all, though.
Ryan noticed that I wasn't entirely happy. "Honey, I have the feeling that you're nervous about meeting him."
"Well, of course. Uh, it is kinda strange meeting my boyfriend's, uh, boyfriend."
"That's one way to put it." His face was still friendly and soft, so I knew that he wasn't too upset about my not-so-crazy reaction to the deal. "But it means the world to me that you meet him. As I said, if you are not ok with my relationship with him, then I can make it strictly platonic."
"Well, I had some time to think about it all while I was at my mom's house. I've done research on it, and I realize that it is not entirely abnormal to be sexually attracted to the same sex. So, I guess it'll be ok."
"Not exactly a ringing endorsement."
"It'll take some getting used to. But I really don't object to meeting him."
"That's all that I'm asking."
We spent the rest of the day at the zoo and going to Rodeo Drive to shop. We ended up back at my hotel room at 10 PM.

Once in the room, I felt uncomfortable and so did he. We really didn't know how to be alone with each other and abstain. Yet, abstaining was exactly what was in order.
I had a suggestion. "Why don't we get into our swimming suits and sit in the hot tub?" I was referring to the hot tub which was bubbling in the middle of the room, as opposed to the two tubs which were located in the bathrooms.
He sighed. "That's a good idea, but - "
I knew what he wanted. I wanted it as well. Dr. Silver's warning was ringing in my ears - "You need to think of him and his recovery, and not yourself. You need to be a grown up here."
I took a deep breath. "Uh, Ryan, maybe being here alone is not such a good idea."
He nodded, as he came up to me, putting his hands on my shoulders, kissing the back of my neck. I took a deep breath, trying not to feel the burning sensation in my groin. It had been so long for us, over a month. We wanted each other, that was for sure.
But I needed to be a grownup.
He kissed me passionately, hungrily, urgently. He was leaning into me, his erection evident through his jeans. I wondered what harm it would do to make love.
I soon found out.