Dark Desires Ch. 01-02

Yet in spite of the similarities, Alice felt the atmosphere was somehow different. Maybe because she was less nervous now that she knew Dr Alperin or maybe because of what had happened during the weekend. She couldn't say.

"How do you feel today, Alice?"

"Better, I must say. And I think I have to thank you for that."

"How so?"

"Do you remember you told me not to stay shut in all the time? Well, I followed your advice and went out. Saturday afternoon. Central Park. Lots and lots of people. And, I'm not totally sure yet, but I think I may have made a friend. Two, actually, a mother and her young daughter. And before you ask, yes, I very much enjoyed the feeling."

"I like to hear that! So, you see, maybe you're not the hopeless loner you're so afraid to be. It only depends on you."

"Not really. I wouldn't have had the nerve to go to them. They came to me."

"Maybe, but you acknowledged them. You let them in, which is good. May I suppose that you'd like to see them again?"

"Very much so."

"Did you exchange personal information?"

"Yes, we did."

"Good. Then, please, I don't mean to pressure you but I'd like you to do a little exercise for me. I know that your natural inclination, however much you wish to speak with her again, would be to wait for that woman to call you even if the waiting might prove tedious. Well, I'm going to ask you to modify your usual standard and be the caller. Will you do that for me?"

Alice remained silent for a while, weighing the pros and cons, obviously not sure she could do it.

"I... Okay, I'll try." she finally consented.

"No, Alice, you won't try. You will do it and you will feel good about it.

It was the first time the therapist was assertive and, strangely enough, it filled Alice with an almost sensual contentment.

"I'll do it. I promise." she said, her features all of a sudden perfectly relaxed, a meaningful fact that didn't escape Dr Alperin's attentive observation.

"Fine. Let's get back to your life story for now, if you don't mind. Our last session ended with you having just rented an apartment for you and Sophie for the oncoming year, not really knowing how she would react. So, what happened when she came back?"

Alice was a bit reluctant to go back there but she knew she had to do it or her sorrow would never fade away.

"When I picked her up at the airport in the early morning, I was so elated I totally forgot about my nervousness regarding the apartment. When I saw my Sophie coming through the gate, I ran and threw myself in her arms, oblivious of the crowd around, my whole body praying to be held, my lips begging for hers. It was so unlike me but I was so in love! ... On the way back, I tried to figure out whether I should drive directly to the apartment and show my surprise to Sophie or bring her back to our dorm - all our things were still there - and let her have some rest after the long night flight. I opted for the latter even if I knew it would keep me on my toes the whole day.

Eventually Sophie slept until late in the afternoon. After she had showered and ate the light breakfast I prepared, I told her I'd like us to take a walk together. She happily agreed and two minutes later, off we were. When we reached the small building, I was more than a little nervous but also full of hope. I took Sophie's hand and told her:

'Come, I want to show you something.'

'Oh, and what would that be?' she asked.

'Can't tell you, it's a surprise. You'll just have to be patient for one more minute.' I teased.

We climbed the stairs to the last floor and of course, Sophie was quite astonished when she saw me take a key out of my pocket and open the door of the apartment. I took her inside and closed the door behind us. Basking in the red-orange sunset light, the living room was spectacular. I couldn't have chosen a better time.

'I don't understand, sweetie, where are we?' asked a rather puzzled Sophie.

'Home, if you agree.' I simply answered.

She looked at me as if I had suddenly grown a third eye.

'Home as in home-for-you-and-me-living-together-as-a-regular-couple?'

There was such incredulity in her voice that I began to panic.

'That... er... was the idea.' I mumbled laboriously, certain by then that I had made a terrible, irreparable mistake. 'But, you know, we don't have to...'

I couldn't finish my sentence because once again I got sushed by that delicate long finger I had come to adore for various reasons. One second later I was tightly pressed in Sophie's arms, warm lips showering my face with kisses before whispering in my ear words that branded me deeper than the hottest red iron:

'I love you too, my Alice. More than you would know.'

Silent tears were running down Alice's cheeks as she recounted her former happiness.

"Sorry." she said with a lump in her throat.

"Never be sorry for your emotions, Alice" Dr Alperin replied, handing her a box of tissues, "they're the best part of your humanity. And don't be ashamed for others to see them because, despite what you probably believe, they're not a sign of weakness. On the contrary."

"My most difficult task that evening" resumed Alice after having dried her tears "was to ease the guilt that assaulted Sophie for not having the means to contribute to the rental. I knew that her parents weren't well off and that it had been a huge financial strain on their part to send their daughter to study overseas. It took me long into the night to convince her that my parents had left me with more money than I could spend and that there was no need for her to go and look for some crappy part-time job that wouldn't make us any richer but would only take its toll on her studies and our available time together.

Eventually, we liberated our dorm room first thing the next morning and by the end of the day had transferred the totality of our belongings in our new nest. We spent the following weeks making it a home. Our home.

I couldn't believe my luck and was walking on air: I loved and was being loved. There was no doubt in my mind that my sophomore year would the best year of my life and, as a matter of fact, it was. Step by step, without expressly verbalizing it, we built up our own routine. I was in charge in the kitchen - Sophie would have burnt water - she was in charge in the bedroom. Knowing that she was the most rackety girl ever and that she could turn our little Eden into the messiest universe in no time, I also took responsibility for most household chores and let her more than fertile imagination decide of our leisure time activities."

"Didn't that that allocation of roles bother you a little?"

"Not at all. Quite the opposite, in fact. I enjoyed being the dutiful fiancee, so to speak, and let her be the domineering figure she was born to be. I aimed to please. Seeing her happy made me happy, sensing her pleasure gave me pleasure. I never felt we were equals but didn't resent it. On the contrary. Our inequality turned me on to no end and, had she ordered me to, I would gladly have worshipped her without any regret till the end of times. Truthfully, not being in command, whether in or outside the bedroom, made me feel good. Better than good even. Safe and cared for. My life was perfect. What more could I ask for?"

Dr Alperin was beginning to see a pattern emerging, one that her young patient didn't seem at all aware of. Here was a woman who had embraced a career where she had to make important decisions, lead the tasks of people working under her and assume choices on behalf of her clients, but conversely clearly expressed that she felt best when not in charge. Typical case of self inflicted paradoxical injunction: to compel one's self to do the exact opposite of what one really aspires to. The most perfect and perverted way to avoid any chance of happiness and satisfaction. But the therapist couldn't simply put it on the table. Alice had to discover it by herself and it would take time. At the moment it was best to let her go on with her story.

"We had a wonderful year without the smallest cloud in our sky except for the fact that Aunt Deborah died in the last few days of December. I was officially alone in the world but for the love of Sophie. Which was quite enough for me. Winter and spring flew by as if they had an urgent appointment somewhere else and our finals were there before we knew it. But we both had been conscientious students. We had worked hard and we passed with flying colors which left us with an enjoyable summer ahead, free of scholastic worries. And on the fourth of July we were together on the plane flying us to France.

Our plan was to stay for one week in Paris where the Tour Eiffel, the Sacré-Cœur, the Arc de Triomphe, the Louvre and so many more incredible places were waiting for me - Sophie had also promised to show me everything tourists never see. - Then we'd fly in the direction of the Côte d'Azur - the south coast of France on the mediterranean sea - where we would spend two weeks in the small villa Sophie's parents used to rent for one month every year. I would then fly back to New York on my own while she'd stay ten more days to have some quality time alone with her family.

Needless to say I was nervous to meet Sophie's parents. After all, not only did they have to digest the fact that their nineteen years old daughter had come out as gay but also that she was in a committed relationship with an equally young girl who didn't have any other project than to live with her permanently, three thousand miles away. Guilty as charged!

But I shouldn't have worried. They welcomed me like a second daughter and did everything they could to make me feel at ease.

Alain and Françoise were the sweetest people and I dearly loved them from the word go. He was a railway engineer who couldn't say more in english than 'my taylor is rich' and 'my sister is not a boy' but she worked as an executive secretary for some international conglomerate and had a good mastery of our language. They were polar opposite of my own parents and showered Sophie with such genuine unselfish affection, I began to truly realize what I'd been deprived of during my whole childhood and adolescence. They were also very open-minded and didn't care their daughter was gay as long as her significant other loved her and made her happy.

Anyway, we had three incredible dreamlike weeks and when I kissed my love and her parents good bye in Nice airport on a sunny afternoon I knew with absolute certainty that there could never be more beautiful days except for the one which would see us exchange vows and rings and promise each other to be together for the rest of our lives."

The experienced therapist could hear a change in Alice's voice and tone. It was almost inaudible yet, but she knew it was there. Her speech rate was slowing down and words weren't coming as easily as before. She had no doubt that she was about to hear something awful. Something that had relentlessly altered the course of a life. Something that had transformed a beautiful, carefree, enthusiastic, happy young woman into a shadow of herself.

"I... I was counting the days before Sophie would be back. Only four more. We'd been on the phone the night before, as we were every night, making plans for our next year, joking and laughing about the mess she would create in our apartment to drive me crazy, Sophie giving me utterly indecent details about the naughty ways she would invent to make it up to me. Twenty-four hours later I was still smiling at our antics, lazing in our bed, waiting for our daily call which usually would come around 1:00 a.m. By 2:30 and I concluded that maybe she was out with her parents or that she had forgotten to power up her phone - she had a long history of ending up with a dead mobile. I was resigning myself to go to sleep without having heard her voice when my phone finally rang.I switched it on and happily shouted:

'Hey you, not a moment too soon! You almost made me wait.'

But I didn't hear her familiar laughter. An oppressive endless silence lingered at the other end of the line until I heard a trembling voice that wasn't Sophie's but her mother's.

'Alice?'

I clearly remember that I immediately jumped to my feet, feeling extremely cold, sweating and shivering at the same time.

'Françoise? Hello? What's happening, Françoise? Where is Sophie?' I asked, desperately trying to stay calm.

'Alice, oh Alice, ma chérie? there has been... there has been an accident.'

When I heard the word accident, a frozen vice-grip encircled my torso and I couldn't breathe any more. I didn't scream, I didn't cry, I simply passed out. I don't think it lasted long, probably just a few seconds, because when I regained consciousness, lying on the ground at the foot of the bed, I could hear a faint voice coming out of the phone, two feet away.

'Alice? Are you still there, Alice? Please talk to me. Please, ma chérie, please.'

I... I was feeling extremely weak but I managed to take hold of the phone.

'Yes, Françoise, yes, I'm here. Just tell me. What happened? Where is Sophie? How is she?'

'She was crossing the street on her way back from the beach and got hit by a car just in front of the villa. She has been transported to hospital. That is where I call you from. We have been told her condition is critical and unstable. She is in surgery right now. We... we do not know more at the time being. But please do not panic, stay calm, ma chérie. Sophie is a fighter, you know that. She will get through this. I shall let you know as soon as there is any news."

Alice didn't even try to fight hers tears anymore. Two small rivers of pain were running down her face staining her blouse at the precise location where her heart was beating. But was it really?

"It was such a horrible night. Sophie was in surgery for over six hours. Her mother called me every thirty minutes or so, but there wasn't much she could tell. We just had to wait and hope for the best. It was past seven in the morning when she got transferred from surgery to I.C.U. Françoise called me immediately and told me that all broken bones had been repaired but Sophie was suffering two bad skulls fractures and was in a profound coma. The doctors wouldn't give a prognosis.

Another hour passed and I was on the Internet, trying to find a direct flight to Nice when my phone rang again. As weird as it may sound, I blanched on the spot and almost fainted again.

I knew in my heart what I was about to hear even before I picked up the phone. And Françoise's broken voice and sobs only confirmed my premonition: my love hadn't made it. My Sophie... my Sophie was gone.

Alice's had her eyes closed by now as if there was something or someone in the room she dared not see and she was barely whispering as if every word coming out of her throat was a potential weapon threatening to inflict wounds that would never heal. It wasn't difficult for Dr Alperin to imagine the unbearable pain level her patient was enduring, having to revisit what had been without a doubt the worst moment of her life but she knew there wasn't anything she could do to alleviate the suffering apart from being there, attentive, understanding and compassionate.

"Take all the time you need, Alice, we're in no hurry. I know it's difficult. Just breathe for now. Let the air fill your lungs as slowly and regularly as you can, it'll help you to calm down."

Alice tried very hard to focus on her breathing and only on her breathing. Her therapist was right. After a minute or two she was able to speak again.

"I... I won't bother you with what happened in the following days or even the following months. The flight to France, the funeral, the few days I spent with Sophie's destroyed parents, the first weeks back here trying to get rid as quickly as possible of the apartment where I couldn't put a foot anymore.

All of it is just a foggy nightmare that I don't retain any clear picture of. I couldn't eat, couldn't sleep, couldn't speak and had a hard time getting my brain to focus on anything. But I knew deep down that going on with my studies was the only thing that might keep me sane. If didn't grab that thin and fragile lifeline, I would drown for good. It was the survival instinct I guess. And you know what: I was ashamed of it. As dead as I felt inside, there was a tiny light somewhere that wouldn't be switched off. I didn't want to live but I didn't want to die. And as days went by I... er... I... don't make much sense, do I?"

The therapist who had feared a complete meltdown was relieved to hear some of Alice's tension flow back towards deeper recesses of her mind.

"On the contrary, Alice. It's extremely significant. Mourning is a complex process that varies greatly from one person to another in method, length and intensity. The shame of being alive after having lost someone you love is very frequent. There are stages in grief and, unless you're a happy-go-lucky psychopath, it's impossible to avoid them. Normal people, if there such thing as normality, will go successively through shock, denial, anger and depression before reaching acceptance. And, during that time, having a death wish fighting against the primordial will to live is nothing unusual."

"I don't remember having ever been angry during all that time, but maybe I'm just not... wired that way. Anger is not my thing. Generally, I tend to flee before anything might trigger it. But denial and depression? Yes, I know those quite well. Acceptance, I'm not so sure. I believed so for a while. After two terrible years, I could feel the pain begin to ebb and, even if it made me feel guilty, I was beginning to let Sophie go. And for the four following years, I had a semblance of life. A couple of flings even, nothing momentous, just little reminders that my body was still alive. But look at me now: I'm here, aren't I? As depressed as I was seven years ago, living an equally meaningless life."

"There's no proven reason to assess that your present condition results from the same cause, Alice. Were you enclosed in a pathological mourning, there would not have been any four-year remission."

"But what other reason could explain it?"

"That is precisely the question you have to ask yourself. And when you'll find right answer, you won't need me anymore. Therapy will be over."

"Are you already pushing me away? After two sessions?!..."

Samantha Alperin's smile could have cured the worst case of melancholia, or so it seemed to Alice after what she'd gone through during that harsh session. She was aware she'd been very close to losing it but she trusted her therapist to be a firm guardrail when she neared the abyss.

"Certainly not, Alice. You'll be the one to make that decision. And, being the intelligent and sensitive woman that you are, going down that path, even if you'll sometimes think it's too bumpy, won't take as long as you probably believe now. Take my word for it."

CHAPTER II

Summer had come and gone. The city was slowly beginning to apply its autumn make up, tinting parks and gardens in all possible shades of yellow and russet. Alice loved that time of year with its symphony of colors and wasn't in a hurry to see it replaced by the white shawl that would unavoidably cover New York in a couple of months, turning cars into cartoon vehicles and bystanders into clumsy frozen penguins. She was well into her fifth month in therapy but still had, at that point, far more questions than answers. On her way back from the last of her bi-weekly sessions, a mere fifteen minutes walk, she was still wondering about the uncommon suggestion Dr Alperin had made at the end of their meeting.

"Alice, I know it's rather unconventional but I would like you to meet somebody. Somebody who, I believe might help you figure out a few of your own hidden truths. There's of course no obligation here. It's entirely up to you but I think it might prove efficient."