In the weeks following Rebecca and Paula's trip to Buffalo, Rebecca and Nathaniel spent most nights together holed up in a sex cocoon. Rebecca had taken Dr. Shin's gift of the scratch-and-sniff sticker as tacit endorsement of the arrangement. She convinced herself that she wasn't betraying her own admission of not being ready for a relationship because it was not a relationship. In her mind, it was simply a series of one-night stands...with the same person...that had lasted almost a month...that also involved copious cuddling. Even so, she thought to herself, they never went on a date. Their lives were not intertwined in any way outside the confines of his apartment.
The only people who knew about their tryst was Paula and Heather. Heather because she had to explain her noticeable absence as a housemate. Paula because she sniffed it out, literally. One day when they greeted each other with a hug, she pulled away in disgust and asked, "Ew, why do you smell like sweat and sex?" That's all it took to get Rebecca to spill. Paula was surprisingly non judgmental about the whole affair, but asked Rebecca to spare the gory details so she could still look Nathaniel in the eye at the office without some obscene image popping into her head.
Plus, she reasoned, as long as she was committed to her therapy, she was doing what she needed to do. She never missed an appointment with Dr. Shin or her group. She was engaged and working hard to address her issues. If she had an appointment, she simply slipped away saying she had to go, which Nathaniel never questioned. In fact, neither of them brought up Rebecca's recent suicide attempt, the things Nathaniel had learned about her past, or even the fact that she was going to therapy multiple times a week. She assumed he knew where she was going, especially given that the appointments were the same time every week. If she was being honest, she was relieved that he never pressured her to discuss it. The rest of her life revolved around her therapy, and their time together was a welcome break from continuous, forced introspection. For the time being, he was a welcome escape and a distraction from the seriousness of her recovery.
Falling into bed with him was easy. Sex was obviously an area of his expertise and she was content to be a beneficiary of his skills. He was always full of want for her and didn't hide it, something she was not accustomed to. Most of their couplings were desperate, needy, as if the spell could be broken at any moment and it could be their last time. She was vaguely aware that she was becoming addicted to him and the little things that were uniquely him. The way he loved to run his hands over the cinch of her waist to the swell of her hip. The way his hands somehow always ended up in her hair, cradling her head. The way he spoke to her during sex that sent a shiver up her spine and made her toes curl.
One morning, Rebecca woke in Nathaniel bed, his usual spot absent but still warm. She groggily remembered that it was Saturday. She stretched luxuriously, taking the opportunity to extend her limbs as far as possible. She then scooted over to his pillow and smelled his scent that still lingered there. Where could he be on a Saturday morning? A foreign object on his bedside table caught her eye. There was a folded piece of paper with "Rebecca" written in his scrawl on the outside. She reached over and retrieved it.
R -
I didn't want to wake you. Darryl & I have a big client meeting today. I'll tell you more later.
It's time I took you on a real date. I made reservations for a fancy dinner tonight in Beverly Hills. Pick you up at 6.
- N
Rebecca's stomach fluttered. A real date. A fancy date. She read the note several times and then pressed it to her chest, a swirl of emotions welling up inside her. Excitement. Anticipation. Anxiety. Nathaniel was consciously upending the delicate balance of their arrangement. The way her heart beat fast when she read the note was evidence that she wanted this date. But did she want it because she was blinded by her physical infatuation with him? Or did she want him, all of him, for herself?
She leapt out of his bed and got dressed. She had group therapy in a few hours and wanted to get home and change prior to the session. She'd rather not go looking like a college student taking the walk of shame.
As she was leaving the apartment, Rebecca noticed a stack of papers strewn on the kitchen table. Nathaniel was unnervingly tidy so it seemed unusual for him to leave a mess. He must have rummaged through these in a hurry to find paper for the note. She hesitated for a moment. She knew she shouldn't snoop. But she caved within seconds, her impulsive nature getting the best of her. She unfolded one of the pieces of paper.
Dear Rebecca,
I'm sorry to hear about your suicide attempt. I'm here for you.
Nathaniel
Her stomach dropped. She flashed back to the afternoon when he brought her the crimson roses. She remembered the expression on his face - so vulnerable and earnest. For a moment she felt a pang of guilt for being nosy. But was it snooping if he left them out in the open? And after all, the note was written to her. She opened another.
Dear Rebecca,
This world is better because you're in it. I'm here for you.
Nathaniel
Dear Rebecca,
You make the world a better place. You're the sweetest person I know. I'm here for you.
Nathaniel
How many times had he re-written this note? Her chest felt tight and she blinked back tears. She hurriedly rearranged the papers so they appeared untouched. His apparent tenderness for her had caught her off-guard. Memories of the last few months came rushing back to her, unbidden, his words echoing:
When I'm around you, I stop thinking about myself and I think about you.
Ever since the love making - the sex making - I haven't heard from you.
I feel things for you...I'll call up my jet, tell them to fuel up, and we'll go away together.
Well, I mean it. I do. I'm here for you.
Suddenly all the mental arguments she had carefully constructed about not being in a relationship fell apart. How could she be in so much denial? He explicitly confessed his feelings for her, but she had been in the midst of spiraling out-of-control. She had been so utterly consumed by her own issues and devastation over Josh that he got lost in the shuffle. In her mind's eye she started re-contextualizing all their interactions over the past few weeks with new clarity. The evidence was plain as day that he wanted more. It was in every breathless "I missed you" against her lips, every squeeze of his arm around her waist to pull her closer in the middle of the night, and every lingering kiss to her forehead before he left for work in the morning.
The rest of the day Rebecca had trouble focusing. Her emotions were cycling in an endless loop, beginning with exhilaration at the thought of going on a real date with Nathaniel and inescapably ending with anxiety over whether she was ready for a real relationship. Could she fully give herself to someone else after the crash-and-burn with Josh? Could Nathaniel handle the inevitable ups and downs that went along with her recovery? Rebecca faked her way through group, pretending that she was listening, all the while daydreaming about how the date would go. At the end of the session, she practically sprinted out the door, earning an acerbic look from Lana.
Back home, she stood in front of her closet, contemplating the appropriate way to dress for this date. She could count on one hand the number of proper dates she had been on the past few years.
"Oh hey, so you still live here I guess," Heather observed from behind her, characteristically less than exuberant.
"Yea, sorry I've been MIA lately," she replied with no further explanation, pushing hangers around her closet.
"Cool. cool. I assume you've been shacking up with your boss, which is probably great for your whole situation..."
"Yea yea, it's fine," Rebecca responded dismissively. "Also, ex-boss. Which of these says fancy date in Beverly Hills to you?" she asked with excitement, holding up two dresses on either side of her.
"Well, they're both black, so…"
"Yea, but they're totally different. See, this one…" Heather walked out of the room before she could finish. Rebecca just shrugged and continued getting ready. She eventually decided on a curve-hugging V-neck black dress with simple black heels. She did her makeup a little heavier than usual, with red lipstick, and pulled her hair half back. She looked at herself in the mirror for a long time. She knew this date was significant. A turning point.
From the bathroom she heard him knock on the door.
"Rebecca, it's your boyfriend or whatever," Heather called.
"He's not my...whatever, it doesn't matter. Hi."
"Hi." He wore a shy smile and a perfectly tailored grey suit with a black tie. It was criminal how good he looked and she briefly contemplated skipping the date and just ravaging him right there. But she exercised restraint.
"Hi," she said again, nervously shifting her weight from one foot to the other. "Is this too much?" she gestured to her dress.
"Not at all. You look beautiful." She felt warm all over.
Heather rolled her eyes. "Ok, have fun you crazy kids. Have her back...whenever."
On the 45 minute drive to the restaurant, Nathaniel told Rebecca about the case he was working on with Darryl. It was a big class action suit against a property management company. He asked for her expert opinion, given her background with the hot water scandal. After not working for some time, she was starved for more intellectual stimulation and she enjoyed the challenge of picking the case apart. They fell into comfortable banter that was reminiscent of their early days working together and the drive went by quickly.
When they got to the restaurant, Nathaniel, as if it was completely second nature, opened her car door for her and pulled out her chair when she sat at the table. She wasn't sure if this was his attempt at being chivalrous or a byproduct of his upbringing, but she had a feeling it was the latter.
"Wow, this place is really fancy," she said in a stage whisper once they were both comfortably seated.
"I just thought...you deserve to be taken out on a proper date."
"Thank you. Though I do feel a little out-of-place. This isn't exactly my usual scene," she said, glancing around at the other patrons anxiously.
"Well, next time you can take me someplace you feel more comfortable. Maybe that donut shack or where ever you and Paula used to disappear when you were supposed to be working."
She laughed, "Yea, like you would ever eat a donut!" She reached across the table and smacked his arm playfully. An older woman at the table next to them shot her a dirty look and Rebecca abruptly stopped laughing and mouthed "sorry" to Nathaniel.
When they ordered, Nathaniel confidently selected an expensive wine for them. After the server left, Rebecca mused, "You seem to be in your element here. Tell me about how you grew up. I'm imagining horse-riding lessons, fencing matches, grand debutante balls, summering in the Hamptons and wintering in...wherever people winter."
"You're slipping into the old-timey voice again," he said with a playful grin. "Um, it wasn't as charming as you're making it sound. Sure, we had resources and I never went without. I'm grateful for that. But my parents were always hyper focused on my success from a very early age. I didn't actually get to be a kid much. Between all of the planned activities and my studies, they didn't really let me have friends or just...play."
Rebecca regarded him sadly, imagining him as a young boy with no friends. He continued, "It's ok, though. My relationship with my mother has been improving lately. But my father and I...there's no hope there. He's essentially made every major decision in my life and I let him. Sometimes I wish we could connect just as people. As you can imagine, I'm a walking cliche of 'my parents never hugged me'...because my parents literally never hugged me." He shook his head and laughed ruefully. "Wow, sorry. Kind of heavy for a date."
"No, no. It's nice to know I'm not the only one with a completely screwed up childhood. I mean, you saw what my dad is like. He left us during my 11th birthday party and then he was absent the rest of my life. That is, unless he wanted something from me. Sometimes I think my mother has good intentions. But then she drugs you against your will to keep you from killing yourself and, I mean, we've all been there!" She tried to say it with a light tone, but the hurt was written all over her face.
Nathaniel smiled reassuringly and reached for her hand across the table. They held hands for a moment until the server returned with their wine.
"To broken people," she lifted her wine glass.
"To broken people," he agreed and they clinked their glasses together.
Their food was delivered shortly thereafter, to which Rebecca observed, "Only you would manage to order a pasta-less dish at an Italian restaurant." He smirked and she dove into her meal immediately. "So is that why you're such a jerk as a boss?" she asked offhandedly in between bites.
"Huh? What do you mean?"
"What I mean is, your dad is super withholding and the only way you can get validation from him is through success in your work. Thus, you're a jerk to your employees the way your dad was a jerk to you, ultimately to try to achieve the success that will earn his respect, ipso facto, then your dad will hug you," she said all in one breath.
Nathaniel sat back in his chair, contemplating this. "I never thought of it that way."
Rebecca continued to eat, unfazed by his realization. "Oooh, Nathaniel. Please get dessert with me. I saw this chocolate cake on the menu that sounds to-die-for." Nathaniel shot her an incredulous look. "Come on, pleaseee." She stuck out her lips in a pout and batted her eyelashes.
They split the chocolate cake, the split consisting of his taking one bite and her eating the rest.
As they waited for the check, Nathaniel cleared his throat with intention. "So, um, I wanted to ask you something. Or tell you something I guess."
She furrowed her brow, confused and a little scared by whatever was coming.
"There's been something I've been wanting to tell you," he started. His tone wavered as he spoke and his eyes darted between her face and the table. "Even though we've only been seeing each other for a short time, I care about you. A lot." Her throat felt dry. "What I'm trying to say is...if you feel the same way...I want you to be my girlfriend."
"Girlfriend?!" she squealed involuntarily. All of her prior heartfelt introspection about her readiness for a relationship flew out the window. Again, the woman at the table next to them shot her a look. "Sorry, sorry. Yes, I want to be your girlfriend." Her heart raced and she had the overwhelming urge to go to his side of the table and kiss him right there in front of the whole restaurant. But she kept her composure while he paid the check.
In the parking lot, he guided her to the car with a hand on the small of her back. Once they got to the car, he looked around and then, satisfied no one was watching, pressed her body up against the car with his and started kissing her deeply. His hands cupped either side of her face and she tilted her head, opening her mouth to him. She rubbed her hands up and down his chest under his suit jacket. Finally up close to him, she could smell a hint of aftershave mixed with his distinct scent that was decidedly male. His hands moved to her waist, feeling her curves there and she couldn't believe that they had an hour car ride ahead of them. She could feel him hardening against her and she slid her body up against his purposefully, which made him make a sound low in his throat. After a few minutes of shamelessly making out, the sound of clicking heels on the pavement signalled someone was approaching. They reluctantly separated and got into the car.
The drive home started out in tense silence. She didn't even want to look over at him because she knew how fucking hot he looked and didn't even want that temptation right now. She was reeling from the entire evening. While she shouldn't have been surprised by his admission of feelings - he had said as much before - it was still jarring to hear it from the same man who had also called monogamy boring and their clients "needy whores."
Her thoughts were interrupted by his hand on top of her thigh. She distracted herself by looking out the window. This man was going to kill her. He pushed the hem of her dress up slightly so he could have better access to her inner thigh, stroking the skin there lightly with his fingers. She tried to remain unaffected. When he got no reaction from her, his fingers climbed even higher up her thigh.
"Nope, nope, pull over," she said with exasperation and threw her head back on the headrest.
"What?" he asked with mock-innocence, an arrogant smirk plastered on his dumb face.
"Come on, are you kidding me right now? Pull over."
"Rebecca, I'm not pulling over on the 10 and letting a million people watch us have sex."
"It's dark! No one is going to see us."
"I'm trying to give you a classy night here. And besides, my body is not built for sex in a car." He had a point. He was probably too tall for it to be comfortable in any way.
She groaned and rolled her head against the headrest, facing him, and then broke out in a full-bodied laugh.
"What?"
"Every time we pass a street light, I can see the lipstick all over your mouth." She cackled. He had lost the upper hand.
Without any further preamble, he pulled the car over on the side of the freeway. She unbuckled her seatbelt before they were fully stopped. He threw the car in park and did the same, quickly adjusting his seat to go as far back as possible. She awkwardly climbed over the center console and settled in his lap, hiking up her dress and not caring how undignified it looked.
Their lips crashed together and she whimpered loudly into his mouth. His hands roamed all over her body while she unbuckled his belt and unzipped his pants. He pushed her panties to the side and found her center with his fingers. She was ready for him and she pushed back against his fingers, wanting more. She swatted the hand away, took his cock in her hand, and guided him inside her. They both groaned. She pressed her full weight down on him so he was buried impossibly deep inside her. He gripped her hips tightly holding them together for a moment before she starting moving up and down on him. Her knee was wedged painfully between the seat and the door, but the mixture of pleasure and pain just heightened her arousal. She had to bury her face in his neck so she wouldn't hit her head on the roof. But she didn't care because he was hitting that spot she needed and her clit was grinding against him with every thrust.
He let his head fall back against the headrest and she rocked back on her hips to see her face. "Oh god, Rebecca," he moaned. Between the rumble of his voice and the look of unabashed pleasure on his face, she started coming apart around him. Their eyes locked and suddenly he was coming right along with her, holding on to her hips so hard that she wondered if it would leave bruises.
Once they regained their faculties, Rebecca unwedged herself from her position and fell back into her own seat. She took in his ruffled appearance. Lipstick was smeared all over his mouth and neck, and his dick rested limply against his open pants. She couldn't help but laugh at the two of them, both horny idiots who couldn't wait 45 minutes to jump each other.
He smiled back. "Classy evening, huh?"
Back on the road, she felt satiated both physically and emotionally.
"So should I call you something other than Nathaniel? Now that I'm your girlfriend and all. Your name has 3 syllables. It's so long. Do your friends or family call you something else? Nathan? Nate? Nat?"
"Ew, Nat? What? No, I don't do nicknames. Also, can I point out that Rebecca is also 3 syllables?"
"Huh, true."
"Should I call you by a nickname? Becky, Becca," he listed, with a tone that implied he didn't like either option.
"No...I like the way you say my name," she mused. Her mind drifted to the first night they slept together when he growled her name into her neck as he came.
He glanced over at her and said enticingly, "Rebecca." He grinned at her mischievously, wiggling his eyebrows.
"Stop it. You're a jerk."
The next week, much to Rebecca's disappointment, Nathaniel started putting in longer hours at work. She had been on a high since Nathaniel asked her to be his girlfriend and she was desperate to be with him every moment. He was all she could think about. Without work or any other time-consuming hobbies, she a lot of time on her hands to think about him and their relationship. When they were apart, she felt an actual pang deep in her stomach. He was her drug and she felt the withdrawals. She sat on her bed and stared at the Stanford t-shirt she had lifted from his apartment that weekend. She pressed it to her nose and inhaled deeply. She felt momentary relief. She took off her blouse and replaced with the t-shirt, throwing a maroon cardigan over it.
She checked her phone for the thousandth time that day. She had texted Nathaniel when she woke up that morning, but he hadn't responded yet. She stared at the phone, trying to will a new text into existence. She went into the living area where Heather and Hector were sitting on the couch watching TV.
She began pacing back and forth behind the couch. As she walked back and forth, she balled up one of her hands in a fist and hit the inside of her other palm repeatedly. "So I haven't seen Nathaniel since this weekend and I have nothing to do but be alone with my thoughts and now he's not texting me," she said in aggravation.
Heather and Hector looked back at her from the couch. "Um, what?" Heather asked.
"Usually he responds right away to my texts. But he hasn't responded and I haven't seen him in a few days, you know?"
"Ok…"
"You do know it's 3pm on a Wednesday, right? And he's like a big, fancy lawyer guy. So he's probably working," Hector offered.
"How long does it take to send a simple text!" she practically shouted at him. Hector recoiled. "Sorry, sorry...that anger was not meant to be directed at you and I apologize," she said in a practiced tone.
"Hey, when do you see Dr. Shin next?" Heather asked.
Rebecca sighed. "It's not a big deal, ok? I just want him to text me. I mean, what if something's wrong? What if he got in a car accident? What if he was kidnapped and being held for ransom but his rich dad won't hand over the money? What if he's dead?"
"Whoa, whoa. Why don't you just text Paula and ask if he's at the office? Don't they, like, work together?" Heather suggested.
"Oh my god, you're brilliant!" She texted Paula.
Is Nathaniel in the office right now?
Paula immediately responded.
Yea, he's in his office. Why?
"See, yep, he's just at work. He's at work. So why isn't he texting me back? Maybe he's having doubts about us. Maybe he doesn't want to be with me anymore. Maybe he regrets asking me to be his girlfriend." Rebecca's tone of voice was getting higher and higher with panic.
"And maybe he's just busy at work. You can binge Orange is the New Black with us if you want."
The rest of the afternoon Heather and Hector tried their best to distract Rebecca from her spiraling thoughts. When watching TV wasn't cutting it, they ordered a pizza and played Settlers of Catan twice. Rebecca destroyed Heather and Hector, even while battling her intrusive thoughts and constantly checking her phone.
"Ok, that's it. I'm going over there," Rebecca said after she finished counting her victory points.
"What?"
"I'm going to his apartment. It's after 6. He should be done working by now, right? If he wants to break up with me, he has to do it in person, not just ghost me!" Before Heather could protest, Rebecca was out the door, leaving in a huff.
"Ugh!" Rebecca groaned in frustration when Nathaniel didn't answer his door. Where was he? Her stomach churned. What if he was avoiding her because he was with another woman? The thought was so debilitating, she leaned back up against the door and slid to the floor. She put her head in her hands and started to tear up. What was happening?
After an hour of sitting at his door in utter despair, Nathaniel showed up, looking completely exhausted. His tie was loosened and askew and his eyes were slightly puffy. Rebecca then realized how she must look - her mascara smudged from crying and wearing his Stanford t-shirt under her cardigan. She stood as he approached.
"Rebecca, what are you doing here?"
"Where were you?"
"I told you, I've been working late on the class action suit."
"Why didn't you respond to my texts today?"
He held his arms out in defeat. "I don't know where my phone is. I either dropped it somewhere or I'm going to open this door and it will be sitting on the counter."
She looked down at her shoes.
"Are you mad at me? Do you not trust me?" he asked, hurt laced in his voice. She still said nothing and wouldn't meet his eyes. "I am so tired right now. All I want is to just go to sleep."
He got out his keys and opened the door. Nathaniel's phone was sitting on the kitchen counter. He looked back at her with his eyebrows raised.
All the breath rushed out of her lungs. "I'm sorry."
"When I look at my phone, how many messages are there going to be? Also, are you wearing my shirt?"
Rebecca felt completely overwhelmed with self-hatred. "I'm sorry. I…" her voice broke.
"Stop," he held up a hand. "I don't have the energy for this conversation right now. I'm going to get ready for bed. I just want to lie down and relax. You're welcome to join me."
She nodded and awkwardly stood by his dresser, watching him change into a gray t-shirt and black sweatpants. When he disappeared into the bathroom, she slipped into his bed and waited for him. He joined her a few minutes later, laying on his back and opening his arms to her. She tentatively nestled into his arms, resting her head on his chest. He closed his eyes and she felt his body begin to relax into the bed. She listened to his heartbeat and it began to calm her down.
After a few minutes, he broke the silence. "How has your therapy thing been going?" The question stung. Their tiptoeing around the subject of her therapy was officially over.
She swallowed. "I never miss a session. I'm working really hard." When he said nothing, she started lose her cool, "Nathaniel, please don't leave me."
"Rebecca, I'm not breaking up with you. I just care about you and I don't want you to fall apart when I have a busy day at work."
"You're right. You're right. I'm such a stupid bitch. I just ruin every good thing in my life…"
He cut her off, "What? No, stop that." He squeezed her closer to him. "Don't say that about my girlfriend." He kissed the top of her head.
"I see my doctor - his name is Dr. Shin - tomorrow."
"I want you to feel like you can talk to me. About anything." He rubbed her back soothingly. "I was raised to never discuss things that are unpleasant. Anything bad that happened we swept under the rug. I don't want it to be like that with us."
She nodded against him, feeling lulled by his comforting touch. "I'm sorry for today," she said softly.
"Rebecca, you know I can't promise that we'll never break up. But what I can promise is that I'll never blindside you. I would never do what Josh did to you."
"Ok." She lifted her head and kissed him softly, then settled into the crook of his arm. They were both asleep within minutes.
"What's wrong Rebecca?" Dr. Shin asked, her distress obviously written all over her face.
She looked down at her hands, fidgeting nervously. "I freaked out on Nathaniel yesterday. He didn't answer my texts and I went full-blown crazy on him." She told Dr. Shin about the previous day, trying to be as honest as possible. She had taken Nathaniel's words to heart. She wasn't sweeping this under the rug.
"And have you ever behaved this way in the past?"
Rebecca squeeze her eyes shut, frustrated with where she knew this conversation was going. "Ok, yes, I've...overreacted before."
"And why do you think that is?"
She sighed. "Gee, I don't know. Maybe because I have a deadbeat, abandoning father and now I automatically assume every man will leave me? So if I get the slightest indication I'm going to be abandoned, I cling to them as hard as I can? Am I in the ballpark? Oh, and by the way, they DO all leave me so it's not exactly an unfounded fear."
"Rebecca, do you think you're in a good place to have a relationship right now?" There it was. She knew it was coming and now her fear was verbalized, out in the open.
"Dr. Shin, please, I really like this guy. He's smart and witty and thoughtful. And he cares about me. He knows about my past and he accepts me. He knows about my BPD…"
"I didn't ask if he was ready. I asked if you were."
She shook her head, wanting this line of questioning to stop. "So what, I can never have a great relationship because I have BPD?"
"No, not at all. I just want you to reflect on your behavior and what is healthy for you right now."
"Dr. Shin, I want to learn how to have a good relationship," her eyes pleaded with him. "There's something you need to understand. This is the most honest I've been with a man...ever. It would blow your mind if you knew the sheer amount of scheming I've done in the past to get a man to like me or even just to notice me. But I haven't done any of those things with Nathaniel. Despite my behavior yesterday, I do think I'm a healthier version of myself with him than with Josh or any other man I've been with. Please don't make me break up with him."
Dr. Shin looked at her sympathetically. "Rebecca, I'm not going to make you do anything. If you're going to continue this relationship, what I would suggest is setting healthy boundaries to avoid having another incident like you did yesterday."
"Ok, healthy boundaries. Sure...and what does that mean exactly?"
"Slow things down. It's ok to have some space between you. Try to focus on other things in your life so he doesn't dominant all your thoughts. Try a new hobby, spend time with your friends, help others."
She nodded, "Ok, I hear what you're saying. I'm taking it in. Boundaries. I'm all about boundaries. I'm going to get an A+ in healthy boundaries."