Kahlen Aymes - Angel After Dark

She sounded very young. Angel was only 28, but hell, this girl sounded like she was barely out of high school. Angel’s heart ached for the young woman’s plight, wondering how any woman would ever get involved with a man who wasn’t available.

Oh, that’s right . Men lie .

Her professional alter ego mentally bitch slapped her to reinforce she wasn’t supposed to stereotype. This wasn’t about her own experiences with men, it was about this poor girl on the phone. She swallowed before continuing.

“That’s a very pretty name. I’m very sorry you’re going through that. I could ask you a lot of background about the situation, but it won’t change the fact that he’s married. He had no business messing with you under these circumstances. It wasn’t fair to you or his wife.”

“But… but, he said he loves me… I didn’t mean…” she cried—“I didn’t know!”

“Celeste, I know this isn’t what you want to hear, but this is a self-destructive position you’re in. People say things in the heat of passion to get things they want, but deep down they may not mean them.” Angel winced as the sobbing on the phone increased but she pressed on. “How did you find out?”

“His wife called me. She found my number in his cell phone. I thought it was him when I answered, and it was horrible.” Angel sat back in her chair and sighed heavily. She wanted to rant at the girl for being so fucking stupid. “She called me a whore. But he said he was going to leave her.”

“When did he tell you that?”

“When I confronted him.”

Angel’s eyebrows raised in an expression of incredulity. Then she shook her head in disbelief. Oh, for Christ’s sake, she thought.

“And you’re still seeing him?” When met with silence, Angel continued. “Celeste, I’m here to help you. So, I want you to see that he is making a choice, just like you are. You have a choice here, too.”

“Ye—yes,” the caller stammered.

“He’s still with his wife, isn’t he?” It was more of a statement, which was confirmed when Celeste didn’t answer. “Please stop listening to his words, and start looking at his actions . He’s got it made. She’s not leaving, you’re not leaving, so what’s his motivation to change and give either of you what you need?” Angel tried to keep her voice even, but an angry flush was coming up under the skin of her face and neck. “It’s both of the women in this situation that are being hurt. You have to step back and look at this objectively. How does he make you feel? And I don’t mean during sex or when he’s trying to convince you that you’re the love of his life. I mean when you’re sitting in the dark alone, and he’s gone home to his wife.”

“Horrible. Lonely. I’m heartbroken. It hurts.” The girl snuffled.

“I know it hurts, and you deserve so much more. You deserve to be the only one, to be cherished and loved. Not used when it’s convenient.”

“You’re right,” Celeste admitted reluctantly.

“Good. So what are you going to do?”

After a pause, the woman answered. “End it.”

“Good girl. You’re doing this for yourself, Celeste. He’ll probably beg and plead, that’s how men like him manipulate women. But stay strong, and don’t give in to his bullshit. Go find someone who deserves you. Okay, honey?”

“Okay. Thank you, Dr. Hemming,” she sniffed.

“You’re welcome. Call me in a few weeks to let me know how you’re doing. Be strong, Celeste.”

Angel took a deep breath. The anger on her face was clear in the tight line of her mouth and the furrow between her neatly waxed brows. She shook her head, and Darian wondered if she was going to say something derogatory about that last caller’s guy. He waved his hands and shook his head. One thing he’d learned in the short time he’d known Angeline Hemming: she took no prisoners and spoke her mind without thinking about it first.

No, Angel. Don’t cuss out the bastard, his mind raced. Not on live air.

“Well, this is Dr. Angeline Hemming,” Angel said as she took the next call, “What is your confession?”

Darian breathed a sigh of relief.

“I confess that I’m sick to death of my boyfriend’s arrogant, offhanded manner and the way he treats me!”

“What’s your name?”

“Whitney,” the woman spat as if she hated her own name.

“Well, Whitney, you sound pretty sure of yourself, so I bet you already know the answer that you’re seeking,” she laughed into the microphone. “It’s refreshing, actually,” Angel said dryly, the corners of her mouth turning up in amusement.

“He’s turned into such a bastard! He totally takes me for granted. I mean, I give him everything, and he doesn’t even know I exist! He works all the time, and we never go anywhere that isn’t a company obligation or charity thing. He spends most of his free time with his damn friends, and when we do have sex, he leaves right after.”

Ugh. I know the type, she thought and leaned her chin into her hand, elbow resting on the desk. The index finger on her other hand absentmindedly drew patterns across the smooth surface. “Do you live with him?”

“No. He, uh, well, I have my own place. Lately, I feel like we hardly see each other and when we do, it’s because I’ve asked to see him. And, then he turns it around on me… saying I nag him.”

“Um, yes, I can see why you’d be upset. So… I don’t get it. What’s in it for you?” she asked flatly. Darian threaded his hands together behind his head as his face twisted in a weird way. Angel shot him a questioning look. He shook his head and pointed toward the phone.

“Exactly. He’s out with his rat pack tonight, and I’m stuck in my apartment. He’ll probably come back and expect me to service him.”

Angel sat up in her chair. “Oh, boy’s night out? Well, I think that’s good for men on occasion—male bonding and all—but not if he disrespects you in the process. Except, why are you stuck ? Why aren’t you out yourself? Let him know that you’re not sitting around waiting. You should show him you have your own life.”

Whitney sighed heavily and her voice was flat. “He wouldn’t care.”

“Whitney, I don’t understand. You seem to be a very smart woman. You clearly see the problem; so why aren’t you doing something about it? Why would you want to be with a man who doesn’t care about you? Take back your power.”

“Are you kidding? He’s got the power in everything! It’s just that… well, he’s everything I want in a man!” the woman whined.

“That’s not what it sounds like to me. You have to figure out what you need and what you’re willing to accept. What’s his first name?” She liked to have names to put with personas in her calls. It somehow made it more real, more personal.

“Alexander.” The answer was detached, and Angel wondered if the man was the only one to blame.

Darian ran a hand over his mouth. “Fuck!” he said under his breath and sat up straighter.

“Well, have you told Alexander how you feel? What you need? I think as women, we tend to want men to anticipate our every need, but that’s not always realistic. Sometimes they need to be told. They don’t process things in the same way we do. You can’t expect to get what you want if you don’t ask for it.”

“Ugh, that’s so unromantic! I want him to know what I need and provide it for me. I want him to want to provide it.”

“Whitney, you need to talk to him, but don’t sound whiney or needy when you do it. Tell him what you need and then go from there.”

“He’s been so withdrawn from me. I hardly know him anymore,” she said miserably. “He makes me feel… invisible . But I can’t seem to leave him.”