Page 96 of False Start
They say when you hold onto anger it’s much like holding onto a hot coal. It burns you first, but the anger I have has become a friend to me. If I don’t have anger, I might return to feeling numb and dead inside again. I don’t want that. I don’t want to fade away. I’m too damn young to be stuck in limbo with my ex-husband. I have to choose to either release him or forgive him.
I don’t even know what forgiveness really is. What does it look like? What is it supposed to feel like? I can’t forget, but forgetting and forgiving aren’t the same thing.
I leave my chair and walk to the floor-length window I enjoy looking from during therapy. It gives me a moment to focus on something other than the heaviness in the room.
“Zhanna, is there something you have in mind that could aid Bryant in gaining your trust again?” Mary asks.
Nothing comes to mind. There’s no magical solution to our problem. There isn’t a list of steps to mend what’s broken. It takes a huge leap of faith.
“There are things I don’t understand,” I say. “Things that I need answered before I can figure out if I can move past it.”
“I’ll answer anything, Baby.”
“I know you were drunk. I know you were in a bad place. But I want to know how it happened. And I want to know what was going through your mind while it was happening with Priscilla.”
“Z…” he starts and stops. “I was very drunk. I don’t remember a lot of the night.”
“Do you remember me going to bed?”
“No. I remember walking a few people to the door and crashing on the couch. The next thing I knew…” He stops, and I turn around to see him rub his hands over his face in frustration, likely with himself. “I thought it was you, Zhanna. Fuck, I didn’t know it was her, and that’s the God’s honest truth. I’d never fuck around on you. Even in my grief, I wouldn’t stray. Even drunk, I have no interest in other women. You’re it for me.”
“Why would you think she was me? Surely being with her was vastly different than being with me. Shouldn’t you have noticed something?”
“She called me ‘QB’.”
I blink once, twice, thrice, and my mouth opens and shuts several times. My words fail me. That fucking bitch Priscilla is going to choke on her own teeth next time I see her. The gloves are off when we meet again. She was close enough to us in the months after the Super Bowl to know I affectionately call him “QB”.
“Well done,” I murmur.
“What?” Bryant asked, confused and worried.
“Nothing, I wasn’t talking to you. Why didn’t you tell me before now?”
“I did tell you the night in the drive when you left California, but you weren’t in a place where you were listening to anything I had to say. Swear to Christ, babe, it’s the truth.”
I nod, anger coursing through me as I remember how I’d suspected her motives in the early days. I’m livid I ever trusted the woman. I feel like the biggest fool. I believe him, but the pain in my chest and stomach is more than I can bear. “I don’t want to do this anymore,” I say as I wrap my arms around my middle.
“You don’t want to do what, baby?”
“This,” I say and wave my hand around the room. “Therapy. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
“It’s hard,” Mary sympathizes. “It’s hard to talk about what happened. Remembering can take us back to the place and time where we were traumatized, and those are never pleasant thoughts. Anger is a natural reaction to your memories. Anger, in small doses, is also perfectly natural and healthy, but not when you’re holding it in to the point of exploding. Therapy is hard, and it can make us hurt a little before it gets better, but it will get better. You’re in a fragile, vulnerable place. Trust is hard for you with Bryant, but it is possible to forgive and trust him again. I think the first thing we have to address is your inclination to run away and let your fear rule you.”
“I’m sorry?” I ask defensively.
“You’ve been afraid the relationship would end from the very beginning. While you feared another specific event would tragically end your relationship, it ended in another way, and you walked away.”
“What the fuck was I supposed to do? Stay with him? Let it slide? Pat him on the back?”
“If I recall, your first real argument as a married couple resulted in you leaving a party alone without speaking to your husband about your departure. When you found him with her, you acted out of rage and then you left the state and filed for divorce. You didn’t let him explain or try to make amends. You didn’t give it time to see if it could be worked through before you dissolved the marriage.”
“I…” I begin and stop.
“You never wanted to be with a football player,” Bryant reminds me. “And I get it, babe, with your dad and all, but for once, even when I fucked up, I wanted you to stay and fight. I feel like I’m the only one fighting for us.”
“I feel like I’m being villainized because you cheated.”
“Not at all, Zhanna,” Mary says. “But if we’re going to work on the relationship, we have to work on all sides of it to make it a successful and loving relationship again.
