Sasha

There was a sound. It was far away at first, but increasingly it invaded my perception. It annoyed me. I wanted it to go away. It prevented me from remaining in that black hole of non-awareness. Somewhere deep within me, I knew it was essential that I remain there undisturbed. I struggled not to listen, but the sound persisted. It dragged my consciousness up from the depths and slapped it repeatedly until my full attention was achieved.

The pillow, that's it. Bury your ears, your head, your mind under it. Nothing can reach you there. You really didn't want to breathe anyway.

Funny thing about reflexes, though, they insist that they rule the body. That oxygen habit is hard to break.

Once the oxygen is flowing, then other functions fall into place. As much as you try to stop it, the mind starts to swell with thoughts, with memories. I knew somehow I shouldn't let that process begin, yet there was nothing I could do to prevent it.

Images. Voices. Feelings. Despair.

Yes, that's what I'm hiding from. But it knows where I'm hiding. How did it find me here? I've done something bad, something horrible, haven't I? I've fallen from a great height and I'm smashed against the rocks. I'm not alone though. I've taken someone down with me. I'm responsible.

Dylan and Sasha. They love me and they hate me. I've done them both wrong. I don't deserve them. I've hurt them or will disappoint them. I've taken everything they've offered and given nothing in return. How low is that?

Burning. Why do my eyes hurt so much? It must be the tears. They keep coming and coming and they don't stop. I thought water was supposed to extinguish fire, but it has the opposite affect on me. The water is burning me.

Don't! You don't have to feel it. Slip away again, down into the hole. That's it. Slide down. There's nothing down there, nothing at all. Stay there forever. It's better. Good....

There was a sound again, trying to get my attention. It was a familiar voice. The black hole wasn't as deep now, so the sound penetrated more quickly. There was a sensation, too, on my arm. I had to think about what was the procedure to make my eyes open. I couldn't remember how for a moment.

"Please wake up, sweetheart! Are you OK? Please, you must wake up!" The voice was urgent, concerned. I knew I had to respond. With great effort, I made my eyelids move, although they didn't get too far.

"That's better. You're alive! I wasn't quite sure." I felt someone sitting on the bed next to me. Confusion flooded me now

. Where am I? I feel... stiff. I can't make my limbs work.

"Can you wake up a little more, please? I need to talk to you."

I winced. I realized that I was going to have to totally emerge from my dark hole and resume interaction with the world. I found the energy to roll over onto my back. I tried to lick my dry lips, but there was no moisture in my mouth. My eyes felt swollen and I couldn't make them focus very well. I wanted to speak, but no sound came out. I summoned more scant energy and made my voice audible.

"Where am I?" I was able to focus my eyes now and recognized Sasha's face close to mine.

He looks relieved about something

, I thought. He smiled.

"Good! You can even speak now. I've been worried about you. We're at my apartment."

His apartment? How did we get here?

I wondered.

"What time is it?" I'm not sure

why

I asked that question because the answer didn't matter somehow. I guess it seemed the thing to say when someone wakes you up.

"It's after four on Saturday."

Saturday. What does that mean? I was supposed to be somewhere on Saturday.

"You've been sleeping for almost 24 hours."

Did I miss something? Why is that important?

I couldn't figure it out. "Why am I here?" I whispered, truly confused.

Sasha's face showed his anxiety again. He pulled me close and wrapped his arms around me. In an instant, my despair welled up, invading every fiber of my being. I remembered what happened when we stepped off the plane. I didn't cry, but I began to tremble. He pulled up the blanket and put it around me.

I stopped shaking in a few minutes. Sasha left the room and returned with a cup of green tea. I let him put it in my hand. I brought it to my lips and took a sip. A feeling of calm spread inside me, like the warmth of the tea dissipating in my throat. I drank some more.

"You were in rough shape last night. I wasn't sure what to do."

"I have absolutely no recollection of how we got here."

"That doesn't surprise me. It took me a long time to convince you to leave the airport and to come with me. You kept saying, 'Leave me alone,' which, of course, I couldn't do."

"I'm sorry, I don't remember."

"So we got a taxi back here. You couldn't stop crying. I put you to bed and you finally fell asleep. You thrashed around quite a bit during the night, finally calming down by daybreak. I've never seen anyone sleep that long."

I hung my head, ashamed that I had caused so much trouble. He sat down beside me. I felt his hand on the back of my head.

"I'm so sorry that you had to deal with Dylan like that. It wasn't the way you planned, but it's done now. You need to put it out of your mind."

I nodded, more as a reflex than out of agreement with him.

"If you think you'll be OK alone tonight, I have to go out. I've been invited to attend a big reception at the museum. My board member friend is eager to hear about my meetings in Japan. It's really important that I talk to him tonight. I hope you understand."

I nodded again.

I want to be alone. That's fine.

If Sasha stayed with me, he would certainly want to talk about what had occurred and what our plans would be. There was nothing I wanted to talk about less.

I stood up, shakily, and went to use the bathroom. When I walked out into the living room, I saw that Sasha had his keys in his hand and a folder of papers under his arm. "Are you sure you'll be OK?"

"Sure."

"There's a little food in the fridge, or check the freezer too. I'm really sorry that I have to go. Call me on my cell phone if you need anything." He opened the door and was gone.

I looked around the apartment. It was small, kind of cluttered. Pretty much the definition of a bachelor pad. There were nice reproductions from the museum on his walls, though. I went to the window. It looked like we were on the third floor of a low-rise building. Typical California suburbia.

I went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. Mostly bare; some bread, cold cuts, beer. The cupboards didn't contain anything that piqued my appetite.

I returned to the living room and sat on the sofa in front of the television. I picked up the remote and pressed the on button. The picture and sound appeared. I pressed the button to change channels, staring blankly at the screen. I lay my head back on the cushion.

I thought about what I should have been doing at that moment.

I should be at Emily's reception.

I wonder what Dylan told them. I wonder what they're saying about me. They must all hate me so much. Even in my absence, I've upstaged the bride.

I let a thought blossom in my mind that I should have repressed.

What am I going to do now?

I inhaled sharply at the physical pain that thought caused me.

No! Don't go there now! You know what the answer is! You can't deal with it tonight!

I pounded my fist on the arm of the sofa.

No!

I wandered around the apartment, trying to distract myself by examining Sasha's possessions. I looked at his magazines, at the clutter on his desk, envelopes carelessly tossed on his dining room table. I noticed a framed collage of photographs on his wall; it was from our school days together. I recognized many friends' faces. My eyes landed on one photo of a large group on a camping trip; I was surprised to see myself in the picture - with Dylan standing behind me, his hands on my shoulders. I returned to the sofa; I didn't want to look around anymore.

The evening passed slowly. I consciously avoided my dark thoughts and overwhelming uncertainty, but I wasn't able to focus on anything else either. I turned off the lights and went back to bed.

Maybe I can slip into that dark hole again

. I lay there with my eyes open.

Eventually I heard keys in the front door, saw the light as it opened. Sasha came into the dark bedroom. He stood above me, silently looking at me for a moment. "Hey, how are you?" he whispered.

"I don't know."

He sat on the edge of the bed and put his hand on me. "What did you do tonight?"

"Not much."

"Are you feeling OK?"

I didn't answer. He didn't ask again.

He got undressed and came into bed with me. He lay close, but didn't try to embrace me. I was relieved. It occurred to me at last why I felt so ambiguous towards him. I didn't want his pity. I didn't deserve it.

Long after Sasha's breathing told me he was asleep, I lay in the same position; eyes open, looking at the street light outside the bedroom window. The thoughts I had been avoiding kept trying to sneak into my head; I had become too tired to fight them off now. The strongest one, the one I dreaded dealing with the most, finally pushed its way up front. I couldn't ignore it any longer.

I've got to get out of here. Sasha doesn't need such a pathetic burden like me hanging around

.

I slipped out of the bedroom and closed the door behind me. I sat on the sofa, awake, until dawn. By the time Sasha emerged from his room, I knew what I was going to do.

"There you are! Did you get up early? You weren't up all night, I hope. "

"No rest for the wicked, they say." My voice was flat.

"I'll make some tea."

I heard him put water in the kettle and turn on the stove. He came over to the sofa and squatted in front of me so he could look directly into my eyes.

"I am very worried about you. You seem to have taken this much worse than I thought you would."

I looked at him incredulously. "So exactly how

should

I take this?" I said, with an unmistakable note of anger. I looked away, out the window.

He put his hand on my knee and spoke in a soft voice. "I thought you might be glad, or relieved, that he knows now. The worst is over, isn't it? It might have been harder if you

had

gone home, right?"

I continued to look out the window. "I don't see how it could have gotten any worse. Forgive me if I don't know the proper etiquette when your husband catches you in the act of adultery."

"Yes, that was quite a shock to see him standing there. But you handled it as well as you could. Can't you take any comfort from the fact that you're free from him now? We can pursue our plans. You're free to be with me."

I hung my head. I realized he had no idea what the consequences were of my confrontation with Dylan. "I'm not so sure

I'm

free. I'll never be free of the guilt of what I've done. I've broken a sacred vow. I've destroyed someone's life. Just because I wanted to have a little fun."

He sat down beside me and put his arms around me. I didn't respond. "Why do you want to beat yourself up so much? Please, you must try to see the advantages of the situation."

The kettle began whistling and Sasha rose to get it. In a few minutes, he returned with the tea.

"I hate to have to tell you this, but I've got to go into the office today, very soon as a matter of fact. We've got a very big deal in the works, and they're going to let

me

head up the negotiations! I won't be long, though. I'll be back after lunch. We'll go out, if you want. I think you need to go for a ride - maybe up to that state park again?" He smiled, but I just looked at him blankly.

You have no idea, do you

, I thought.

Well, it would make what I have to do easier. I can't let on...

"OK, that sounds good." I forced a weak smile. "I need to make some phone calls anyway. You just go. I'll see you later."

"Thank you for understanding. I feel bad about leaving you alone again, but I'll make it up to you, I promise. Please try to cheer up; it scares me to see you this way." He stood up and went into his room.

After he left about a half-hour later, I discovered a reserve of energy. I showered, dressed, and gathered whatever belongings were not in my suitcase. I turned on Sasha's computer and opened a blank document. I stared at the screen for a minute before composing a letter to Dylan. I tried to convey my shame for what I had done to him and offered profuse apologies. I felt little relief when I had finished.

I then worked on a second letter. I printed it and read it over.

Dear Sasha,

I am so sorry. I can't stay with you. I am such a coward for just leaving a letter, but after what you witnessed yesterday, I hope you'll understand.

I've discovered what kind of person I really am and I don't like it. I am not the kind of person you need in your life. You are much too generous and I don't deserve your kindness, nor do I want your pity.

I need time to sort out my life right now. It's hard to believe how quickly a life can change, or how quickly you can change someone else's life. I have a lot of thinking to do. I have to find some way to make amends.

There was no time that I enjoyed more than our week in Japan. I will keep that with me for the rest of my life.

I do this out of love for you. You deserve so much more than I can give. Try to understand.

Love, H

I kissed the letter and placed it on the table. I took my suitcase and left for the airport.