Cut Too Deep (12 page)

Neither doctor nor patient spoke while the letter was read. Dr. LeClair removed his glasses before rubbing his eyes. He released a long drawn out sigh. Curious that Hadley received a reply to a letter she claimed to have never sent, he said, “I thought you never mailed him a letter.”

Hadley pulled her gaze from the ceiling to glare at him. “I didn’t!”

His patient’s short and angry answer didn’t explain how it ended up with Mr. Genetti, but given it didn’t seem to be the issue she had, Dr. LeClair allowed his curiosity to be forgotten. He looked across the desk, waiting for her to comment. With confidence, he knew they were about to engage in a hefty argument over the letter. When she stayed silent, he leaned forward and calmly said, “Would you like to discuss how the letter made you feel?”

“How the hell do you think it made me feel?” Hadley fumed.

“Well, you’re clearly angry.”

“Of course, I’m angry.” She slammed a hand onto his desk. “Furious, actually!”

“Why is that?”

Steam shot out of her ears as she glowered across the desk.

“Isn’t it obvious? He’s a pig—a filthy, womanizing, lewd, immoral, and disgusting pig! I want to get to know him, and all he wants is to chalk up another sexual escapade.”

“I think he was fairly honest in what he feels. He’s attracted to you in a sexual way. Is that not what you claimed to feel for him at our last appointment?”

Hadley leaned over his desk with her palms pressed flat against the wood.

“Are you seriously implying that this is what I wanted?”

“You said you felt nothing more than sexual attraction for him. I’m trying to sort out why his reciprocating that attraction makes you so angry.”

Hadley stared at her therapist in disbelief. She wondered if he’d been writing himself prescriptions, because he must be on some potent drugs to think for a second that Miller’s letter reflected her own feelings.

“He said he wanted to fuck me! With everything I’ve been through, that’s what I get from him…that he wants to ‘paper fuck’? How can he say that when he doesn’t know me?”

Hadley folded her arms over her chest protectively.

“Because,
he doesn’t know you
, Hadley.” She considered leaving and finding a new therapist, because this one clearly went insane overnight. But, she liked this one, and despite the superior grin on his face, she plopped down on the leather couch and listened to him explain. “Miller stated his intentions openly and honestly, not knowing it would offend you so strongly, because he doesn’t know what you’ve been through. He only knows that you share a mutual physical attraction for one another, and he’s accustomed to freely expressing his desires with women. My guess is most women accept his advances quite eagerly.”

Hadley’s eyes burned with indignation.

“Well, I’m not most women!”

“No, you’re not, but you are human. You have desires, and you’re clearly attracted to him. We’ve discussed the fantasies you have about him. He was simply more honest about this attraction than you were, and he verbalized his fantasies.”

“I’m not in denial about being sexually attracted to him. I hate it, but I know it’s there. I didn’t ask for rainbows and sparkles, but I thought we would at least start with a favorite color before he said, ‘Hey let’s fuck!’ I expected more than moral depravity.”

“Those were your expectations.”

Her knees bounced wildly. She was conscious enough of her anger to control it.

“Yes, well, clearly his are very different.”

Dr. LeClair began to smile, but held it back.

“Or, more similar than you’re prepared to admit.”

“I’m not having letter sex with a man I hardly know!”

Her eyes shot to the door when she realized her shouting carried. Hadley half expected Donna to shoot through the door and scold her. To her relief, the receptionist didn’t come.

“I’m not suggesting you have letter sex, but perhaps you can reply to his letter as honestly as he did yours.”

“I already did,” Hadley admitted, rubbing her palms repeatedly over the rough fabric of her slacks.

Now the doctor allowed a smile to form as he addressed his patient humorously.

“And you were calm and polite, I assume?”

Hadley lifted her head, looking at him from under her eyelashes.

“I called him a pig, and requested he shove his offer of meaningless sex up his smug ass!”

Dr. LeClair laughed softly.

“Well then, I guess you’ll have to wait and see how he responds, although something tells me he’ll find your request rather enjoyable.”

Hadley huffed.

“I hardly think so.”

“You’d be surprised.” The doctor shrugged. “A game of cat and mouse may be very alluring for a man like Mr. Genetti. Getting whatever you want, whenever you want, can grow tiresome.”

Hadley could hardly fathom what the doctor speculated. She’d never experienced anything close to whatever and whenever in her life. She would’ve settled for once in a while. The doctor made his point, and Hadley’s anger subsided.

She sent him a feeble smile.

“I doubt he’ll respond, but thank you for talking me down.”

“No thanks are needed. It is after all what I’m paid for, but I do believe in you, and I’m proud of the progress you’ve made over the years. Try not to dwell on this since it’s out of your hands, and I’ll see you Thursday.”

As Hadley strolled to work, her mind ‘dwelled’ on every word in Miller’s letter and her conversation with Dr. LeClair.

Why am I so angry?

Miller admitted in his letter what Hadley already knew about him. He dated a lot of women. His sleeping with those women had always been a forgone conclusion. She should’ve known better than to have unrealistic expectations of a man. Lust was the only connection they shared. Hadley hated having to admit her anger with Miller needed to be directed at herself for romanticizing her interactions with him and imagining more than lust might materialize when he read her letter. How naïve. After all, we lived in a culture of meaningless hook-ups. Gone were the days of chivalry and courting. Lust was the root of all evil in society today. Why would her life be any different?

She’d witnessed the nastiness in lust when her mother’s cries of pleasure drifted down the hall to her bedroom where she sat awake sobbing after a night of listening to her parents fight. As a small child, Hadley knew what her parents were doing, but lacked the maturity to understand how her mother allowed her father to touch her intimately after he’d abused her violently. It wasn’t until she was much older that Hadley understood her father’s lust for her mother caused everything wrong in her life. Lust made a father hate his daughter at times. From her unexpected birth, to times when he wanted to have sex with his wife, but the unwanted child needed caring for.

That damn letter!

And damn Mac for mailing it. Her feet moved a little faster, thinking about the earful she planned to give her meddling friend.

After nearly a week, the media presence outside of the building hadn’t subsided. With a hand over her face to avoid the cameras, Hadley pushed her way through the crowd, dodging questions from pesky reporters. She’d said the phrase, “No, I don’t work for Genetti Industries,” no less than a hundred times over the past week. It astonished her they continued to ask, although she understood a successful reporter pursued every possible lead. After all, reporters didn’t land an exclusive story by being passive.

Mac didn’t greet her. She figured he was hiding. Hadley rode the elevator alone, sat at her desk, and put her things away. After turning her computer on, she clicked on the internet, greeted by the face of a man she would rather not see.  She resisted the urge to read the
top story
and see if anything new had emerged on his possible release. Convincing herself she didn’t care grew impossible.

She
cared
more than she wanted to.

Hadley nearly caved, her mouse hovering over the link, and then she heard Mac. “Any new info on your man?”

“Why do you ask?”

His eyebrows lifted in surprise.

“Oh, so he is your man.”

“No, he’s not, and I’m not happy with you!”

“Oh, come on! I was kidding.”

“I’m not talking about you teasing me, although it’s getting annoying. I can’t believe you not only invaded my privacy, but mailed that letter! Why would you do that?”

She could tell by the genuine confusion replacing his playful smile, Mac had not betrayed her, which meant someone else stole and mailed the letter.

Who then?

“Wait, you wrote him?”

Mac’s eyes were as bright as light bulbs, only Hadley couldn’t flip a switch to shut them off.

“I did, but I never mailed it. It disappeared from my desk drawer. I assumed I threw it away.”

“But?”

“I got a letter back,” she mumbled.

“Get the hell out! What’d it say?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Oh, yes I do! We’re going to lunch later, and you’re going to spill.”

The two friends shared lunch at a small Thai restaurant near their office. Hadley did indeed spill everything. She told Mac about both of the letters she wrote, but never mailed, and Miller's sexually driven response. She explained how anger caused her to write a third letter to set him straight, and that she’d actually mailed that one, only now she regretted her decision.

“I knew it. I knew he wanted you.”

“You did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did not, and stop acting like a four year old.”

“Did too. Did too. Did too. I told you.”

It would do Hadley no good to be annoyed with Mac, regardless of how immature he acted.

“It doesn’t matter now. I’m pretty sure after he reads the latest letter, he’ll wash his hands of me. I would guess I’m a bit too high maintenance for his taste.”

“We’ll see.” Mac shrugged. “Oh, hey, you up for dancing on Friday?”

Hesitant to commit until she heard back from Don, Hadley asked, “Can I get back to you?”

“Sure, but let me know soon so I can tell my roommate to expect us.”

“I will.” Hadley sipped her drink. “Did you ever find out what was going on with Dickhead?”

“Nope, but he’s still not right.”

Hadley agreed, and the two finished their lunch before going back to the office. Time stood still the rest of the afternoon. Hadley didn’t accomplish as much as she needed to as her mind remained occupied with thoughts of a certain handsome and infuriating man. Part of her thought Miller not writing her back would be a relief, but the other part of her wanted nothing more than for him to write her back with something more sincere than his first attempt.

That evening, Hadley entered her living room after a shower and picked up her cell phone from the coffee table. She noticed a voice message from Don McAllister and prayed he had good news for her.

“Hey, kiddo, Don McAllister here. Listen, I checked with a few people at the station and it sounds like your friend was correct. It would be okay for you to attend those events you asked about. They typically only show up if a complaint is called in. My buddy says they send everyone home and the organizers get a slap on the wrist. The only time attendees end up in trouble is if they’re intoxicated, and since I know you’re keeping your nose clean, you should be fine. Alright, um, keep in touch and stay tough, little one.”

Hadley couldn’t contain her excitement. She actually did a little dance in her living room while clapping her hands before shooting Don a thank you text. She followed up with a text to Mac stating that she’d love to go dancing.

T
he next two days, work went by in blur as it seemed every designer needed Hadley’s help with their presentations. The extra workload came in the wake of another mysterious absence by the boss. Mac offered to take her to dinner Thursday evening, but she politely declined, informing him she had an appointment, but looked forward to dancing tomorrow. While she’d been reluctant to keep her appointment with Dr. LeClair, Hadley knew the answers she needed to move forward could be unveiled. It may be the enlightenment she needed to close the door on her past permanently, and maybe open one to her future. At exactly five, she clocked out and walked to Dr. LeClair’s office.