Chapter 1 - Honey
HONEY
IT MUST HAVE BEEN LOVE
Dear Ricky,
I don’t expect you ever to read this letter, or to give a damn about what I have to say. Your previous actions have shown that you have no remorse for anything you’ve done.
Lord knows I want to forgive you so I can move on with my life and act as if you never existed. I’m grateful that I can admit the facts now: the heart I believed you had, the beautiful soul I once loved you for, was nothing more than another steaming pile of bullshit you fed me from your deviously overactive imagination.
You have no heart. You have no soul. You know nothing about love. You can’t even recognize or understand anyone’s love for you because all you can think about when you meet people is how to use them. And you honestly think everyone thinks in this same toxic way? I feel sorry for you.
I’m sorry that you’re not mature enough to be responsible for someone else’s heart or embrace love into your own. I wish I knew that before you put me through a year of meaningless torture that has crippled me to the point of thinking that every other man I come across is just as evil as your heartless ass! I hate what you’ve done to me. There are many times I simply hate you, but you’re only human, bound to make mistakes until you call on God to help you make a change. You once told me that your faith was important to you. I hope that wasn’t another lie.
I hope you get it together, or at least consider where your carelessness has led you. Don’t you ever think about what you’ll be remembered for? Do you care that your children will carry the weight of your burdens? What about the hearts you’ve claimed and bruised? What about me?
I will always love you, because my love was genuine. That’s something I have to deal with. Karma is something you will have to deal with. Care enough about yourself to do better.
Sincerely,
Honey
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Valentine’s Day in Los Angeles was a lovely sight to behold: festive decorations covered every building like Cupid made it rain hearts and flowers. Thanks to my adorably enthusiastic secretary, Janet, conversational candy hearts and festive balloons could be found in every corner of my office. As for me, I wasn’t thinking about Valentine’s Day or the love linked to it.
I had been a restless ball of nerves since I’d taken a chunk of money from my book royalties to turn a small vacant home into my own private practice six months ago. As an emotional health and relationship author, it was important for me to connect with my readers, and even though it was all beginning to take its toll, I couldn’t slow down. I had an obligation, but starting the week off with a couple like Kenneth and Cynthia Watson – my best friend Tia’s secretary and her husband – was definitely testing my limits.
“This is why we have problems!” Cynthia yelled. “You never listen! And then, you have the nerve to run off with some preschooler who’s as young as Dr. Love because you feel neglected?”
“Look, Doc. I come home every day from bustin’ my ass at work ...”
“Oh, you were bustin’ ass, but it ain’t have nothin’ to do with work.”
My eyes widened with shock. “Umm, we’re not gonna get anywhere if you two don’t calm down. Now, we need to address the problems that led to this … speed bump in the fidelity of your marriage.”
“The problem is that he doesn’t know how to be in a marriage. Makin’ a fool out of me, bringin’ your whores to the office after you leave my house …”
“Your house? I pay the bills! Your little secretary money don’t do nothin’ but buy the groceries.”
“It ain’t cheap to feed you! Do you make the meals at home?”
“Hold up, Cynthia. You don’t even make the meals at home. McDonald’s is not a homemade meal.”
“Okay, guys, let’s focus on the real issues here. When did the cheating occur?”
“Last year.”
“And why are you just now contemplating divorce?”
“Oh, she talked about it before, but we decided to try and work things out. Right now, I’m the only one makin’ an effort. We’re supposed to be in this together.”
“I don’t trust you! You cheat on me every time you feel neglected. How can I trust you?”
“You can’t,” I blurted to their silence. “If you want to make your marriage last, you have to pay attention to each other’s needs, or just walk away. We'll pick up with this next week.”
♥ ♥ ♥ ♥
Right after they left, I sprinted out of my office, because Wednesdays were reserved for me and my best friend, Tia’s, traditional Happy Hour Margaritas at our favorite bar, Twenty-Ten. As soon as I walked through the door, I ordered two margaritas in anticipation of her arrival. Within moments, she appeared at the entrance with her briefcase in hand, stomping toward me like she was on a warpath. “Uh-oh. What happened at work?”
“Work was fine until Cynthia called and told me about their session with you! I sent them your way so you could help save their marriage, and you told them it was over?”
“That is not … He cheated on her. She hasn’t let it go for a damn year. What am I supposed to say to change her mind?”
“I don’t know! That’s why you’re the expert! I’m not gonna keep referring people to you if they feel worse about their relationship than they did beforehand, and I’m about five seconds from tellin’ Eli to follow suit.”
Eli, or Elijah Garrison, was Tia’s longtime boyfriend who worked for Spud Ice Management, a reputable sports agency. Due to his good relationship with the owners of the team, and Tia’s high standing at the law firm she worked at, they were able to send customers to me if they needed psych evaluations or relationship counseling. The majority of my private practice was by referral only, and most of my referrals came from them!
“Seriously, T? I call it like I see it. What do you want me to do, lie to people?”
“I want you to give them a professional opinion that is not saturated in hostility, Bee.”
“And my professional opinion is: if she can’t let the cheatin’ go, let his ass go.”
“All right, that’s it. What happened?”
“What do you mean?”
“Oh, you're gonna act like I don't know you? When you’re in a good mood, your advice is calm and helpful. When you’re in a bad mood, you go for the throat like you’re in a damn slasher flick. Now what happened today?”
My sigh was heavy enough to match the pressure I felt on my shoulders. “Before Cynthia and Kenneth came in, I was on the phone with Sophie.”
“Your agent. Okay?”
“She reminded me that I’m in the last month of my contract with 1st Light. She said they’re getting bored with my depressing self-help books. So, if I don’t switch my tone for this next book …”
“They won’t release it or renew your contract.”
I nodded. “Consider this the renegotiation.”
Tia shook her head. “Consider this your wakeup call.”
“What?”
“Listen, you know I’m your biggest fan. Nobody supports your theories more than I do. But you have to stop letting your bitterness with Ricky guide your writing career!”
“I … don’t.”
“Oh, really? Let’s look at the evidence, shall we? Your first book, Get Over It: Taking Control of Your Heartache.”
“What about it? I used the information from my psychology classes to analyze why my relationship with Ricky ended. You told me to publish it.”
“Yes, because it was constructive, insightful, and groundbreaking. No one attacked breakups the way you did! That’s why it got so much attention. Now, what about Love and Lost? The focus of that was, what, how to love yourself after you lost yourself to your man?”
My face fell as she botched up my words. “When Loving Someone Else Trumps Loving Yourself. Remember the spread of cards on the front cover?”
“Yeah. What made you write that one?”
“After the first book came out, and I was doing my work-study under Dr. Hawk, a bunch of students who read it came to me for relationship advice. Putting a selfish person’s needs over their own was a recurrent.”
“Like you did with Ricky. Go ahead and tell me I’m wrong.”
“Tia, some people see love as a game, and the point of that book was to show that it is easy to lose yourself when you get caught up in the mushy Disney-esque fairytales that we were told as little girls. None of that is realistic. It’s all a fantasy.”
“Wow. Okay, so, you’re anti-love now?”
“I’m not anti-love, I’m pro-sight. We, as women, need to open our eyes to the true color of love. It’s grimy, it’s mean, it’s ugly, it’s hurtful, which is why I wrote Shoulda, Coulda, Won’t: Following Your Instincts, Not a Man. Then after that was Me + Myself + I = Enough ...”
“Okay, stop. Do you see the problem here? 1st Light followed Get Over It because you were a young woman with somethin’ to say and a long line of folks anxious to hear you say it! Now they’ve had you under their wing for three years, three books, and you’re still writin’ the same shit!”
“I’m writing about relationships.”
“You’re writing about breakups like you’re still heartbroken over Ricky, who, whether you wanna admit it or not, was the real motivation behind all of your books.”
I glowered at her. “Tia ...”
“No, Bee. It’s been six years, and the only dates you’ve had have been with piles of paper and your computer. Aren’t you gettin’ cobwebs down there by now?”
I gasped in embarrassment. “Excuse me! I am focused on my career right now.”
“Unh-unh. Don't play with me. I'm focused on my career, my man, and we have a healthy sex life. You need to start dating again.”
“Here we go. You know, you’re beginnin’ to sound like a broken record.”
“Okay then. I’ll sing a different tune: Get yourself back in the field, or I’ll do it for you. Eli has a bunch of eligible friends at work, and they’ll all be at his surprise birthday party next week.”
“Tia Lee, I do not need y’all setting me up. And even if I did, I would not choose a sports agent.”
“What about one of the clients they represent?”
“Right, because another narcissistic athlete is just what I need.”
“Liam is not narcissistic.”
“Who?”
“Liam, Eli’s cousin. You remember him, right?”
Liam Moraz wasn’t exactly the type of man a woman could forget. He was the handsome, fawn-complected Wide Receiver for the LA Gold, one of Los Angeles’s NFL football teams. I remembered his dark hair, golden eyes, polite nature, and easy conversation despite the awkward circumstances in which we first met.
Immediately after I broke up with Ricky, Tia had the bright idea to set us up then, but in the midst of her scheming, she forgot that Liam was in permanent limbo with his on-again/off-again girlfriend, Liberty. “I remember he’s taken. How are he and Liberty by the way?”
“He’s fine. As for her, who cares? He’s coming to Eli’s party. Hint, hint.”
“Uh, as my lawyer, shouldn’t you be helpin’ me figure out a new book idea so I can please my agent and renegotiate my contract instead of talkin’ to me about some guy?”
“The conversations are the same. You are a love doctor, and your career is in jeopardy because you’re letting your heartbreak negatively affect your work. You are too great a person to turn into a bitter shell of your former self. So, stop moping around, and move the hell on.”
