Mr Garcia

What do you even say to that?

"For how long?" I whisper.

"A long time."

"Since you were married?"

"Around then."

I remember Helena that day in my office, and contempt fills my every pore.

What the fuck did she do to him?

His face stays solemn and, not sure what to do, I offer him a crooked smile.

"Have you sought any treatment?" I ask.

"Like a quack?"

"A psychologist."

"They can't help me."

"Who have you talked to about this?"

"Nobody."

"Not even your friends?" I frown.

"No."

A trace of a smile crosses my face.

"Why are you smiling?"

"Because you told me. That must mean something, right?"

His brow furrows, like he’s contemplating my question.

I trace a circle with my fingertip on the sheet below me as I think. "So what you’re saying is that not all women you're physically attracted to do it for you?"

"No," he replies without hesitation.

A million things fly through my mind, none of them making sense. "And Cartier does?"

His jaw ticks. "Yes."

I nod.

"But I don’t want Cartier."

"Who do you want?"

"You."

I lean in and kiss him softly. This is fucked up, so God knows why I feel relieved.

We stare at each other for a while, and then I ask, "What would happen if I wanted you to make love to me?"

He blinks and his face twists with a frown.

I give him a moment to reply, and when he doesn’t, I answer for him. "Your body wouldn’t co-operate?"

"It's not my body that’s the problem. The attraction for me is lost."

I nod as I begin to understand.

His face is solemn. He looks so beaten down. I lean in and kiss him. "Thank you for telling me." I hold him close, and I can almost feel his pain through our hug. "This is not so bad. This is okay. We can work with this, Seb," I whisper.

"How?"

"Well?" I trace my finger down his nose. "We just take it day by day."

His eyes hold mine.

"And when you need April to be your girlfriend and to kiss and cuddle and hang out with you, she's here."

"And when I need Cartier?"

"She's here, too."

His eyes search mine. "Why would you do that?"

I roll over onto my back. "Because I get it. I can't judge. I have my own demons."

He leans up onto his elbow. "Like what?"

I stare up at the ceiling. "How long have you got?"

He smiles, encouraging me to go on.

"Well, I can't get close to anyone, for seven years now. I compartmentalize sex. I can't go home to live in America because it reminds me of him and how hard he broke me, even though all of my family and friends are there. I have a wonderful man who I've been sleeping with for four years who loves me and wants marriage and babies, yet I can't think of anything worse. I broke off with him without one single regret or afterthought. How cold can one person be? And now, to top it all off, I think I've fallen for someone who is in the public eye, and I work for him, so we can never date publicly… and I think he's just as fucked up as I am."

He smiles and pinches the bridge of his nose. Hearing our situation out loud really is comical.

"So, yeah, I can handle your demons." I smile. "I'm not sure if you can handle mine."

"Me neither." He smirks. "You do sound pretty fucked up."

I laugh out loud, and it's cathartic. He laughs too.

After a while, we fall serious.

"Seb."

"Yeah."

"Promise me something."

"What?"

"Can you keep me in the loop?"

He frowns.

"I can deal with anything you throw my way." Maybe this is too heavy to say now but I need to verbalize it. "But if you want another girl, or if you need another woman, prostitute… whatever you want to call it… it’s okay. I'm telling you that it's okay if you need someone else. I completely understand. But, you need to tell me beforehand so that I can walk away with my self-respect. If I'm going to do this, I deserve to know where your head is at. And I promise you there will be no judgement or hard feelings. I understand that sometimes." I pause as I try to articulate what I want to say. "Sometimes the demons are so bad, you need a new weapon."

His face falls, and I know that he understands what I'm saying. I've been there. I've bounced between men, looking for that elusive magic pill that’s going to stop the pain.

I lean in and kiss him softly. "That’s the only condition I have on our relationship going forward."

"Okay." He whispers and after a moment he adds. "You have my word."

"Seb," I frown.

"What?"

"How come you told me?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well… you didn’t need to tell me this. You could have just played along and I would never have known."

“I thought I…." His voice trails off.

"Thought what?"

"I thought I owed you the truth and…" My eyes hold his. "You make me want to be better, April," he whispers. "To get better."