Page 11 of The Red Dress

CHAPTER 4

The tip tapping of the doctor’s pen against the glass desk brings me back to reality, and I resent her for that. I’d much rather be in the past, falling in love all over again instead of sitting here discussing the present.

“Beautiful story,” she says. “It is so important that we always remind ourselves of how we fall in love. When you recount the story, I find that it has almost the same effect as it did when you lived it. Sometimes, with the hustle and bustle of life, we tend to forget why it is we fell in love in the first place.”

“I’ve never forgotten why I fell in love with Owen,” I say, turning to him and smiling. “We still have that bracelet.” It’s true. I wore it on our wedding day and now it’s tucked away in our safe so that when Mia marries, if she should choose, she could wear it, too. It’s more valuable to us than our wedding rings.

“Then you are fortunate,” she says. “But we aren’t just here to remember the good times. Communication and openness shouldn’t just happen when we are happy. It needs to be something we practice at all times in a relationship. In fact, it is most important in the worst of times. It is what will keep that unit together, strong.”

I look to the floor, nodding slowly, taking in what she’s saying. Afraid of where she’s leading the conversation.

And then she asks, “Have you given Owen the opportunity to discuss his affair with you?”

The fucking affair. Of course, she would steer us that way, it’s what we came here to discuss after all, isn’t it?

“I think that affair has been talked about to death. It’s been put to rest, pardon the pun,” I practically hiss.

“I meant, have you allowed him to tell you exactly what happened? Have you given him the opportunity to share with you how everything happened so that you can better understand him?”

“Why the hell would I want to know exactly what happened? I don’t give a damn. All I need to know is that he fucked someone else after he’d sworn loyalty to me. I mean, you don’t want to know what I did in New Orleans, do you?” I ask him incredulously.

Dr. Riker’s lips tighten. “It is important that everything is laid out on the table, so that any animosity can be either justified or debunked. Owen,” she looks at him. “I think it’s time you recounted the events that led to the affair, so that we can understand the humanity behind the mistake and your feelings on it.”

Disgusted, I stand. “There is no way in hell I’m going to sit here and listen to this!”

Why would I want to hear about Owen’s affair any more than I already have? It’s already changed my life completely. Worse yet it’s obvious this doctor has already chosen sides, and she’s definitely on team Owen. Everything she says, the way she says it, irks me.

I really want to leave, but when Owen touches me gently, and says, “Please Cris. I need this,” I sit down. For him.

When he starts, I have to grind my teeth to keep from screaming at him. It seems I have little choice however, and I know there is only one way I can sit through it. Remove myself. I am here, listening to his words, but I detach my emotions from the words. Though they still hurt, the memory of it still stings, it’s a dull sort of pain that I can bear.

“Believe me when I say it was as much of a surprise to me as it was to her. It was definitely not planned and if I could change it, I would. If only I could go back in time. But I can’t.”

“So you accidentally fucked someone else?” The hate in my voice is so evident even to me, the emotion surprising me, especially when I thought I’d let it go. It had been part of the whole Bo affair compromise. Maybe the doctor is right, maybe we still need to talk about this.

Still, it hurts to hear it again. It’s like opening up a wound that although hadn’t healed properly, had somewhat closed up.

“I’m not saying it’s not completely my fault. What I’m saying is that I didn’t premeditate this. It wasn’t something I’d planned or even thought there was any danger of. If it had been a possibility on my radar, I would never have put myself in that situation.”

I shake my head at his words. “You should never have been in that situation in the first place, Owen. Being alone with another woman in a hotel room would be unacceptable even if you hadn’t slept with her!”

“I know! I’m in idiot.”

We both stay quiet, both looking away from the other. I can hear his rapid breathing, then deep breaths as he tries to reign in his emotions.

“Owen, why don’t you tell us what led you to invite the woman to your room,” Dr. Riker instructs. “Maybe then we can understand how it happened.”

I cross my arms across my chest subconsciously, and turn to him, but stare at his shoulder instead of his eyes. Having calmed myself after that little outburst of anger, I say, “It’s fine. I’m fine. Go ahead.”

He lets out a deep breath and wipes at his face. “Well, it wasn’t really anything special. She was the bartender at the hotel I stayed at. We were having a company dinner there, and one of my peers and I headed down for drinks a little early. It wasn’t to get drunk, we just wanted time to talk without everyone around.

“Mike was interested in her. He flirted with her and thought she reciprocated. She wasn’t someone I found attractive. Really, if it wasn’t for him I wouldn’t have even noticed her at all. So, we have drinks and after dinner he wants to go back to the bar.”

As he’s telling us how this happened, I begin to imagine it in my head, to see it as a sort of movie playing out. Any details he leaves out, my mind easily makes up, inserting probably more than it should.

Cassandra. The name is engraved in my life. It will forever be a part of me. When I’m old and withered, still I will remember it.

She stands behind a wooden counter so heavily lacquered it shines like a mirror. A tight and torn black shirt strains to hold her breasts in, and makes no pretense at hiding fat rolls she doesn’t have. Long strawberry blonde hair falls in loose waves to her waist, but for that one youthful pin that keeps her bangs out of her face.

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