05) IS IT A BRIDGE TOO FAR?
The one where Damian and Cassie review the past.
Damian has been going through therapy to rebuild his sexuality after his wife demanded a divorce in a brutal public spectacle where she showed that she'd become a dominatrix and humiliated Damian in front of his friends and colleagues. She did it both because he had had an affair but also because she'd gotten into a twisted domination/submission relationship with Lily, the person with whom he had the affair. She hasn't spoken to him about their relationship in three months, but has finally reached out and it's time they understood each other better.
I have to reschedule Friday's appointment with Dr. Anne because of work; I've missed too much lately. So, we are set to meet on Monday.
The camping weekend goes well with the boys. The best time I've had in three months (well, fucking again was probably the actual best time, but that's a whole different thing). I find that driving there is excruciating because of sitting on my raw ass after Tara's... er... therapy. Things don't go perfectly on the trip: our campsite gets rained on and the tent collapses in the middle of the night, so we all sleep in the car. But still, a great time. We catch a few fish and I de-head and gut them, but will leave the scaling to Cassie. I put the fish bodies in the ice cooler to take back for her to cook them for the proud boys. She can't say "no" to our children, but she hates cooking fish and especially scaling fish. I smile at my little revenge.
I'm a few minutes early to drop the boys and since we're happily singing boy scout camp songs on the way home, I avoid thinking about what's facing me. But it's hard conversation time with Cass. We get home, the boys give her a hug and make to look for their electronics while I hand her the cooler.
She makes a face when presented with the fish, but smiles and shouts after the boys telling them how proud she is, catching them just before they enter electronics wonderland for the rest of the evening. Then she glares at me only half-seriously. It feels like the kind of repartee that brightened our lives before they went to hell.
She has a babysitter already. So we take off, anxiously, in my car still smelling of camping must. I think we both re-live happy moments just from that smell. I have to be careful not to show the physical pain I feel, but it's a stark reminder to me to 'be good to myself.' Rather than go someplace too public, we decide to take a late-evening walk in the park and chat.
Walking is a standing-up thing too. My ass thanks you.
As we walk, I resist the habitual urge to take her hand; it was always there for me and for me a reassuring part of our connection. My love language is touch.
Neither of us want to start but as we walk, we both blurt some opening line at the same time and laugh. Cass stops us and catches my eye, looking deeply. She's serious. This is her 'I'm serious' face. Then she says... in her gentlest, most sincere voice:
"I'm sorry."
I'm flummoxed. Those are the last words I expected her to say, but the words that I knew I needed most.
"Damian, you already said you were sorry and I believe you. You said you were sorry at the custody hearing. I was there angry, flustered, shocked, surprised... and feeling betrayed yet again, but as a professional, I've learned to always listen carefully. I listened.
"And for days, weeks, I thought about it. And I cried. And I replayed. And I challenged myself. And I argued myself to sleep. I talked incessantly with... with my friends." That stutter... I think she was going to say something else... or someone else. "And at the end, we bo... all came to the same conclusion. You're right. I fucked up. I fucked up bad. It felt like my Supergirl moment. I was making my legend. When I finally took back all the power that was stolen from me. But it was so unfair... because
you
didn't steal it. Lily stole it. Well, yeah, you hid some of my power... my... self... from me... yes, you did, but I didn't go looking for it either so... my fault too.
"What you did was stupid and selfish. What I did was angry and mean." My sin is greater than yours.
"Not for nothin', but... will you forgive me? Is there a universe where we can at least be in the same room and not hate each other? I don't hate you, Damian. Some part of me is still mad at you, but I don't hate you."
I still feel the sting of my caning that I worked so hard over the weekend to hide from the boys; I couldn't even wear shorts since one of the cane marks was too low on my legs. But the caning pain reminded me of my epiphany with the demons... I didn't hate her. I anger-hate-loved her. And the piece that was winning right now was love. It hurt me to see her hurting because she hurt me. So much hurt.
Didn't I resolve to let myself accept love? There was a spark of love and compassion in what Cassie was saying.
I smile a little. It's taken three-plus brutal months to get to this moment... and mostly because of Cassie's stubbornness. Why couldn't she have been that stubborn to work out of Lily's grips six months ago and just fucking talk to me?
"I... in some ways, I already have, Cass. I've learned a lot these three months. My therapist has started to help work me through the PTSD and..."
"What! PTSD? Damian!" I could see her thinking hard: quickly building perspective about how she might've actually impacted me "...uuuhh... was that your therapist's diagnosis?"
I hang my head in shame "yeah, Cassie. I had no idea... she just threw it out there one day and the clinical definition just made sense... I'm sorry..."
She wanted to hug me... I saw her lean in then think twice about it.
"Who is your therapist?"
"Anne Sanford."
I saw Cassie deflate. I think she was hoping for a different answer. "Damn. Anne is very good and very well-respected. You were wise to choose her. And... if that's her diagnosis... I can't debate it. God, I'm an ass."
"I just lucked out - I made the appointment through the insurance after... a really bad night... and I got her. She's really very good, Cassie. Really unorthodox, but good. And, she... she..." it was still so easy to talk to Cass, that my walls weren't protecting me from my mouth. I wanted to say so much.
"...She what?"
What the hell? "...She's an expert on BDSM culture... she did her dissertation on it - how it goes well and how it goes badly.... Just random luck, Cassie, but she's helped me understand more of what might've gone on with you." I'm not even considering telling her about my sparking interests in participating.
"You still could've done more, Cass. You could've actually talked to me. We could've worked it out. Lily couldn't have had
that
much on you... I would've been there for you. If I'd broken it off, then she shouldn't have done whatever she was blackmailing you about. We were a team, Cass. A real team.
"I was never going to stay with her, Cass."
"But you said you loved her. I heard it!"
"Yeah, but that was the little brain talking." I consider my words and realize they're a dodge, so I get a little more honest: both with Cass and with myself "Okay... fuck. Cop out. Just a little maybe, but totally different Cass... I love YOU" Damn! That slipped out "I lov
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