Chapter 132
KATE
What? I was perplexed.
The waitress brought the martinis and left them on the table. I thanked her without paying attention.
"Continue..." I encouraged him.
"It was a difficult time, Kate. I don't remember it well, but I think I witnessed some of his episodes. It wasn't pleasant to see. But anyway, with treatment, he improved. The symptoms regressed a lot over the years."
"Can you tell me more about this disorder?"
"Are you afraid that he'll lose control?"
No. Of course not. I trusted him completely. I couldn't imagine him hurting me.
Suddenly, the words he had said earlier seemed to make total sense. His usual dark look, which seemed to carry a bit of darkness, also made sense. Was I afraid of something?
"I just want to know more."
"I don't know much. They say it can be genetic or due to other reasons. When the episodes happened, Nat would be consumed by anger, impatience, and he would swear a lot when he couldn't hit or break things. He also made threats. He would completely lose control. But the worst part was seeing him afterward, he would feel guilty. I felt so sorry for him."
I felt sorry for the blond boy with incredible blue eyes that appeared in my mind, imagining all that he must have gone through. I felt a tightness in my chest.
"Well, you don't have to worry, Kate. I know he's doing well now, and maybe that's why he has become one of the most control-obsessed people. He needs to have everything under control; it's his way of knowing that everything is okay."
I nodded, still lost amidst the new information about my Nat.
"At what age did the episodes stop?"
"I don't remember exactly, but he started therapy, and by the time he was sixteen, he was much better. He found something as an outlet..."
"Something as an outlet? What do you mean?"
"I think it was a way to release anger, the bad things... I'm not sure."
"What was it?"
"I really shouldn't tell you this, but since I started it. Well... there came other kinds of problems as a teenager, problems with parents of girls next door, and parents of girls at school. I remember a few times when angry parents came to visit us, and after seeing my parents scolding Nat and punishing him, I later found out he was involved with those girls."
"Involved? Wait... Are we talking about sex? Was that his way of letting off steam?"
"Yes. He used to spend a lot of time away from home, and my parents found out why."
"But he was sixteen."
"Well, it continued until college. There, he entered a new phase. But that's not for me to tell."
A new phase? What was he talking about?
"Are you telling me that sex was a way to control the disorder?"
"Well, not exactly, but I think it helped him."
"Damn."
I could barely process the information. Was he still doing that?
"Kate?"
"What?" I stared at his concerned gaze and then at a comforting smile.
"You really don't have to worry about that. Nat straightened himself out in college and became completely focused on achieving his goals. He became the amazing and admirable guy he is today. And besides, that was a long time ago. Everything is fine. He learned to control it."
"Okay. It's just that..."
"I don't know if I'm happy or sad to see you in Stephan's company." Suddenly, he was standing next to Stephan. How did I not see him coming?
"She couldn't be in better company, little brother," Stephan said.
I couldn't even look at him; I felt a mix of anger and anguish.
"Stephan, I really appreciate your time, but now I have to go. Thank you, take care."
I stood up and walked away without looking back. I just needed to stay away from him for a while. I needed to think. My mind was a mess.
I was feeling angry because he never told me about that, and mainly because I thought that what happened between us was just a way for him to let out his darkest desires.
Was sex merely a way for him to keep his demons at bay? Then what did I mean to him?
I heard footsteps behind me on the sidewalk.
"Kate?" It was him. "Wait!"
I didn't stop; I ignored him and quickened my pace.
The speed of his steps increased, and he caught up to me, grabbing my arm.
"Hey, what's going on?"
It was a bit dark; I couldn't see his face clearly. A sense of nausea was consuming me.
"I need to go home."
He sighed.
"Did you have to do that?"
"Huh?"
"It wasn't important."
"Why? You didn't want me to know that you use me as a way to push away your demons?"
"What are you saying?"
"I need to go." I turned my back on him and kept walking.
He continued to follow me. The street was getting even darker.
"Don't act like this."
"Just leave me alone."
"Are you scared?"
I stopped again. I felt so sick. I took a deep breath and turned to try to see his eyes.
"Scared? Scared of what?"
"Of me?"
"Do you think I should feel scared? Why? Because I got involved with someone who has trouble talking about the past? Someone who seems to find me anywhere in the world like a damn obsessed maniac? Someone who acts like a lunatic trying to control everything around him?"
"Enough."
"You're completely insane."
In the blink of an eye, he lunged toward me. I felt his fingers tighten around my arms, just below the shoulders, pushing me backward with a force that pinned me against the wall in the dark alley.
A chill ran down my spine. I could hardly breathe, but I could hear his heavy breathing against my face. I was almost paralyzed, scared by his reaction. Maybe I had gone too far and provoked him.
His fingers loosened around my arms and moved up to my neck. Then they brushed against my lips, sliding over them. Afterward, his soft and firm lips covered mine.
I closed my eyes and felt my body calming down with him, his scent enveloping me. He pressed his body against mine in an almost overwhelming way, and I could feel how aroused he was.
This only made me more confused. Was this how he apparently used sex to control his anger? Was it always like this? Both of us, fights, and sex?
His hands went down to the hem of my skirt, but I stopped him from lifting it.
"No."
It wasn't that I didn't want him; I always wanted him and would always be ready for him. But I couldn't; I needed to distance myself from him to think about everything. I wouldn't be able to if he was around.
"I need to go home," I said, still feeling his heavy breathing on my face.
"I'll take you."
"No."
"What are you doing?"
"I need some time."
"Why do you need time? I thought we were fine."
"I need to think."
"Think about leaving me?"
I couldn't see his face in the darkness, but I could feel the anguish in his voice.
"Just let me go."
"It's dangerous at this hour."
"My car is nearby."
After a moment of silence, he said, "Let me know when you get home safely."
Then he stepped back, giving me space to leave.
I walked along the sidewalk, dazed, with an immense desire to cry. I turned the corner and got into my car.
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