Anxious Hart

Chapter Two

Present Day

Tick, tock. Tick, tock.

My mind hummed along with the rhythm of the clock on the beige painted wall. I had been analyzing the lone decor portrait for the last five minutes, appreciating the painting of a sunny beach. Mentally I had decided it was some seaside getaway along the Atlantic coast, a place I once knew so well. Curving along the lip of the water’s edge where the salty mist would kiss your skin and the wet sand could exfoliate away all the troubles of the day. The laps of the cool waves kissing toes and bringing in seashells or treasures from the ocean.

Just the memory of sea foam, the warmth of the sunshine on my face, the smell of bonfires at night...

“Claire.”

No. Go away. I am in my happy place.

“Claire.”

Well, former happy place.

“Claire, why don’t we discuss your issues with intimacy?”

Letting out an unenthused sigh, my hazel eyes casually rolled from the seaside illustration to the source of the question. I examined his piercing dark eyes behind his thick, black framed glasses. He was slightly disheveled, with wrinkled khakis that were a little short, showing his colorful striped socks as he crossed his legs. Even though it was the middle of June in Omaha, Nebraska, he was wrapped in a thick cardigan sweater with leather patches on the elbows. I would guess he was in his mid- to late-forties with a thick mass of wavy, dark, disheveled hair combed to the side of his head. He was handsome for an older man, but I found him, his approach, and frankly, his very presence extremely bothersome.

Furthermore, I could not ignore the nagging suspicion that the feeling was mutual.

“My intimacy issues, Pete?” I responded, purposely adding extra emphasis on his name. with an exaggerated bat of my eyes. After all, what legitimate mental health professional insists on being called “Pete”?

Pete smirked slightly, almost as if I had made a joke. His dark eyes left mine to meet my fiancé’s, Andrew Chase, before he continued. With almost slight chuckle he said, “That is why Andrew wanted you to start joining on these sessions, Claire. See, Andrew, he feels your connection is...well, amiss. He feels distance, Claire. He feels you are pulling away from him, and he is concerned that this may lead to larger issues when the two of you set a wedding date, get married-those major steps in the future that could impact your relationship and set you back.” He finished his speech with finality, clicking his pen.

I turned to Andrew, who was seated at the opposite end of the couch, taking in my fiancé. Compared to Pete, Andrew was a polar opposite in appearance. He was polished and always put together in a clean and pressed suit. As a state senator who was driven to excel further in politics, he always wanted to look his best and I could rarely get him to even wear sweats around the house with me. He was 6’2”, with dark blonde hair. Recently he had decided to grow back his beard, which I did appreciate. Many said we were a perfect match, like the next JFK and Jackie.

But we all know that didn’t exactly end well.

Andrew’s green eyes caught mine as he reached over to pat the top of my hand. “I know you don’t like to talk about these things, dearest, but it really would be best for us. Think about the future.” He flashed me that smirk…is lady-killer smirk.

My eyes narrowed slightly as I tried to control the pursed smile on my lips. The future. Always the future. His future. His ambitions. His career.

It was enough to make me scream.

My gaze moved from his hand back to the reassuring smile on his face. While Andrew was looking pleased to have his therapist in his corner to attack, I felt completely blindsided.

When my fiancé had asked me to join him for his therapy session last week, my ‘intimacy issues’ were not on my mind. In fact, I felt Pete did not need to break the ice with such a sensitive topic. Yes, we were going through some issues...I was working on some personal issues, but it was not a hand to be forced and certainly not in this manner. These issues went beyond my relationship with Andrew, which honestly was not a topic to be broached by a therapist I did not trust or respect...like Pete and his aggressive pen clicking. This was a topic Andrew had never even approached with me prior to this moment, which made it even more hurtful. Ever since his half-hearted proposal four months ago, I had questioned our entire relationship. Our relationship was very one-sided, focusing on his career. Whenever I did try to put myself or my career as a writer first, I was accused of being selfish. As a couple, we lacked intimacy. I knew I could not trust him with my deepest secrets, and that hurt. We had not had s*x since the night he slipped that ring on my finger, and even then, it felt like an obligation, a check off a to-do list, if you will.

After that exchange, I began to feel the distance grow between us. Andrew started working longer hours to further his political presence for the upcoming election while I made myself scarcer around the house, finding obligations to distract my wandering thoughts. Do I just blurt out my concerns about his recent distance in front of a perfect stranger? Do I express this to this loathsome being eyeing me with darkened daggers of bitterness? Every fiber in my soul steered me against the very idea.

In this moment, I felt vulnerable and exposed. I longed to be home, in my comfortable clothes cuddled with my dog working on my next book. Instead, I was in Pete’s bland office, perfectly polished for Andrew’s public image in an A-line dress, heels, and my long hair in a sleek ponytail. My nails were spotless, makeup flawless. This was the image I had been primed to uphold over the past 10 years, but even now, I was beginning to feel that these attempts were only in vain.

I cleared my throat before I finally spoke. “I would feel more comfortable if you and I just talked. There was once a time when we could tell each other anything. I don’t feel that way anymore,” I pleaded in a gentle voice, rubbing my French manicured thumb over his fingers.

Andrew’s face shifted as he gave me a different small smile. His stage smile, meaning he was hiding something. His eyes twinkled at me as if he were pacifying a child. After 10 years, he forgot I could read him like my favorite novel. “It’s not that simple anymore, darling. We...you...you keep pushing me away. I don’t know what to do.”

I narrowed my eyes. “So, it’s all me?”

“Well yes, dearest,” he blinked innocently. “I want you to be my wife more than anything. But I cannot have that if you keep avoiding me. You skipped the governor’s luncheon. And Senator Peter’s barbecue. I mean, those were important social obligations where I needed you and you were not there for me.”

“Wait,” I pulled back slightly, narrowing my eyes at him. “Do you want me, or do you want my image?”

His mouth dropped open, suddenly realizing what he just said. He quickly closed his mouth, clinching his stubbled jaw. I could feel his fingers on my hands began to tap my knuckles. Tapping his fingers was a tick of his when he was frustrated or on edge.

Andrew is a very calculated character. While he likes to keep his public image pristine at all times, he is a cold-blooded warrior inside. He has every step planned along with five possible outcomes. It is rare that he ever makes a misstep…and even less frequent when he is at a loss.

Yet in that moment, I watched a flicker in his eyes. He knew he was caught by his oldest advocate in a lie and it was only going to get worse from here.

Taking a deep breath, I slowly pulled away from Andrew, removing my hand from his grasp. I dropped my eyes to my hands as I folded them in my lap. Catching my composure, I took a few moments to collect my surroundings before I spoke. Being in the moment and taking in my surroundings was a coping mechanism when I began to feel my anxiety pique in tense situations. It also allowed me to sharpen my senses to take in things I may normally overlook.

Suddenly, all the dots connected. All of my uneasiness and concerns for the last four months vanished, only to be replaced by a new wave of feelings. Several emotions flowed over me at once: embarrassment, sadness, disgust, clarity, relief. And like the rhythm of Pete’s pen, the jumbled mess in my brain aligned and suddenly...clicked. All of my hesitation, all of my concerns from my past, were not the issue.

Sure, I could cry. But instead, I started to laugh.

I laughed for a good minute. It was a deep belly laugh that I hadn’t had in months, releasing all the tensions, making me double over until tears raced down my cheeks.

Puzzled, both men exchanged nervous glanced between each other and eyeing me. They wondered if I had honestly snapped.

But finally, I sat upright and grabbed my aching waist before. “So,” I began wiping a tear, “who have you been f*****g?”

Pure shock raced across Andrew’s face, but only for a brief moment before he quickly disguised it. No longer laughing, my eyes did not leave him. That face I once found so comforting and charming was now only the face of a disgusting cheat and liar. His chiseled features, striking eyes, and blonde hair no longer pulled at my heartstrings. His drive and determination seemed so sexy at first, but eventually became the focus of our life. Ten years. I had given the last 10 years of my life to this man and his political ambitions. The nights of studying his opponents, prepping speeches, streamlining answers for debates. I had put my goals and dreams on the sidelines for him. I comprised starting a family, waiting for the diamond ring that glistened on my finger, all for it to be right with Andrew’s timeline, only to be used as a pawn for his political gain.

Through clinched teeth, I stressed out my question. “Andrew, are you going to answer my question?”

Clearing his throat, Andrew shifted in his seat. He crossed his legs as he sat back before he looked me square in the face. Without an ounce of remorse he said, “You really can’t be surprised. You haven’t been around and I can have several women a night without even trying.”

I rose to my feet. I paced for a few moments, taking deep breaths before I finally stood before Andrew.

I kept my voice calm. “Before or after the proposal?”

A sinister twinkle flickered in Andrew’s eyes. “Dearest, do you really think the proposal had anything to do with this?”

A lump was starting to form in my throat, but I forced it down with a swallow. “I have always been honest with you. I expect the same respect and courtesy.”

Shrugging his shoulders, Andrew looked me up and down with a smug smile across his lips. “Oh, Claire, my dear. You were so loyal. So convenient. Yes, that does make you endearing and lovable. God knows the people see it. But respectful? You’re a dreamer, Claire. As a grown woman you still believe in soulmates, fairy tales, and happily ever after’s, which floors me with all the tragedies in your life. You need to wake up.”

He crossed his arms and rubbed his chin. “I suppose I do love the image you do portray. It certainly helps with the votes. But at the end of the day, it’s just business,” he shrugged.

“Business?” I repeated, shocked at the cold, calloused man before me. I had been warned over the years that Andrew Chase, the ambitious, conservative young politician, had a dark side from his enemies. It was only now that I was face-to-face with the devil himself. I now saw him for who he truly was and any feelings, any attraction to him completely dissolved in that moment.

“What? You’re really surprised?” he chuckled. “I mean, I’m happy to keep this thing going too. The people love you, dearest. You’re gorgeous. Great hair, lips, eyes, and that body! All natural too. The perfect trophy wife, if you’re still game? And your discretion, of course. We know how some of my supporters can be.” He winked.

“You’re disgusting,” I mumbled, feeling nauseous. “Do you think I honestly have no self-respect?”

Andrew chuckled and smiled at Pete, who was shifting uncomfortably in his seat. Pete looked like he wanted to just disappear into the floor after witnessing our conversation. Obviously, he was not aware of how devious Andrew’s actions truly ran.

“You have been with me this long, dearest,” grinned Andrew. “Surely you knew what you were getting into.”

“I’m not your toy. I will not be used to hide your lies. You know I would have supported you if you needed time or realized we were not right. But what you have done, what you have said, is inexcusable,” I said in a calm tone.

“I never asked you for anything, Claire- “began Andrew, that vile smile still plastered across his once recognizable face.

“Don’t!” I snapped, turning to him with a raised finger. “That is bullshit and you know it! Ten years. Ten f*****g prime childbearing years is what you did ask for Andrew. Give me 48 hours to move out of our house. You can keep this,” I said, tossing him the ring he had proposed with only four months prior. “Oh, and I’m taking MY dog.”

Andrew opened his mouth to object, but I quickly snapped. “He is MY dog. You gave him to me & I wasn’t an unfaithful w***e. Furthermore, he hates you. Guess he was trying to tell me something.”

“Claire-“

“f**k off, Andrew,” I said with finality & quickly walked out the office door.