9: DANICA

"It calls for half an onion, Z. Why are you chopping up the whole thing?" I ask, looking over his shoulder.

"The last time I checked, I was the cook between the two of us. The only thing you ever did was order takeout or go out to eat," he teases me with a smirk.

Rolling my eyes and sucking my teeth, I reply, "Whatever. But why are you using an entire onion?"

"Because," he says, dipping the knife back into the cold water and then returning to expertly chopping up the onion. "It called for a half of a medium onion. This is one small onion, so it's roughly the same size."

"And why did you rinse the onion off with cold water?"

"The cold water removes the pungency so that it doesn't burn your eyes and nose when you cut them. It also doesn't leave that strong smell on your hands," Zenon explains patiently.

"Oh," I say, hopping up on the countertop and swinging my legs back and forth.

"Did your mother ever teach you to cook?" he asks.

"Nope, Mom didn't cook during the weekdays. She was busy at the hospital, and then on the weekends, I was busy with my extracurricular activities."

"So, that's where you get eating out from all the time. Your parents didn't cook during the weekdays," he says matter-of-factly.

"I didn't say that we ate out, though. We had a cook who worked during the weekdays and prepared all our meals."

"What about your dad? Did he ever cook?"

"On the weekends, he and my mom used to cook dinner together," I say with a smile as I recall earlier times.

"Could he cook?"

Nodding, I say, "My dad was a great cook, and so was my mom. It just wasn't what they spent most of their time doing. I didn't have an interest in it, so I never tried."

"What about your brother?"

Laughing, I answer, "Onyx was too busy chasing girls. I mean, he might know how to cook now that he's settled down with his own family, but I doubt it."

"So, are you going to sit up on that counter and keep talking about it? Or are you going to hop down here with me and learn how to cook?"

"Nah, I think I'll sit right here beside you and watch you prepare our meal."

"You have to do something to earn your meal," he says, causing me to freeze up. "You can't eat for free."

Memories of another time in my life when I was told that I would have to earn my way to the top flood my mind.

Finding my voice, I reply, "I'm letting you stay here for free, aren't I?"

Zenon's hand slows, and he turns his gaze to me. "Sorry, Dani. I didn't mean any harm. I was just teasing you."

Shaking my head, I say, "It's okay."

"Is that a problem? Do you need me to pay you? I can, and I won't have a problem with it."

I hop off the counter and say, "No. I'm good. I was just...never mind."

"Hey, where are you going?" Zenon calls after me as I slip out of the kitchen.

Before I realize it, Zenon has his hand wrapped around my wrist, and he stops me.

"Did I say something wrong?" he asks.

"No, I was just going outside for a walk."

"This late in the evening?"

"Why not?"

"Maybe because we were in the middle of cooking and talking."

"I was finished."

"Look at me, Dani."

I roll my eyes, but I still don't meet his gaze.

"Dani," he says softly, tilting my head up and turning it in his direction.

"What?"

"What did I say to offend you?"

"It's not you."

"Then tell me. What is it?"

"It's hard, Z. Don't push me."

"I'm not trying to push you, but I've been watching you since you arrived. Something's off, and I know that we're not a thing anymore, but that doesn't mean that I don't still care about you. You ran away this morning when I thought you were opening up. You can't keep running, Dani."

That was one of the reasons that I pushed Zenon away. He could always see straight through me. He understood me in ways that most didn't, and I had too much to hide, too much to be ashamed of, and I didn't want him judging me.

"It's nothing, really, Z."

"What did I tell you about lying to me?"

I look down and notice that he's still holding my hand.

"That was a long time ago, Z. You can't spank me if I lie. I don't belong to you anymore."

"Did you ever?"

My chest tightens, and I look away from him.

"You know that I did."

Zenon turns away from me, and I have the feeling that he's working really hard not to allow me to pull him into an argument. But for some reason, I'm now in a pissy mood, and I want nothing more than to argue.

I watch as he does the same thing that I just did.

"Hey, don't walk away from me."

"I think you need to take that walk that you were considering taking."

"And that's another thing. You don't tell me what to do!"

"Dani, I'm not trying to tell you what to do. But I am getting the feeling that you're not in a good space right now. If you're trying to start a fight, I don't want to do that with you."

"What do you want from me?"

"The truth."

"What truth?"

"About you and me. Why it was so hard to give to me what I could clearly see that you wanted."

Shaking my head, I say, "I didn't deserve it. Besides, you deserved better than someone like me."

Zenon takes two quick strides back to me. Gripping my chin between his index finger and thumb, he says, "You can't tell me what I did and didn't deserve. The one thing that I did deserve was the truth. Why did you play me the way that you did, Dani?"

"I didn't play you, Z."

"I'm talking about the day of the game."

Closing my eyes as my heart squeezes in my chest about that painful day, I'm overcome with emotion.

"I knew that you would eventually come around to that. I didn't play you, and you deserve the truth. Since the day you walked out of your bedroom, that's all I wanted to do was tell you the truth, but I didn't know how."

"What version of it?" he asks bitterly.

"Come with me," I say, walking towards the kitchen again.

Heading straight for the deck, I open the doors and don't look back to see if he follows me.

I grip the railing and look out onto the street. Big, leafy palm fronds wave at passersby walking on the street either to or from the beach.

I close my eyes, willing myself to face the truth as I know it, though it's often hard. Right now, I want nothing more than to have a drink to ease my guilty conscience and to give me the courage to have the conversation I need to have.

Yet, I know that a drink would be in direct conflict with what I'm trying to do. In fact, it would trivialize the message I want to convey.

When Zenon finally steps out onto the deck, he leans on the railing beside me.

"I came here to continue my healing, Z. I've spent ninety days working my ass off to find the better version of myself. The true me. The last time that I visited this cottage was with you six years ago. I've hired workers to come in and clean it monthly, but the last time someone cleaned was four months ago."

"I noticed that it had been a while since someone visited when I first arrived. I cleaned the place up and took care of a few things."

Turning to him, I smile. "Thank you."

"I have a feeling that's not what you wanted to talk about, though."

"No, it's not," I say, taking a seat on a chaise lounge. Pulling my legs up onto the chair with me, I chip at my toenail polish.

"Want something to drink?" he asks. "It's kinda hot out here."

Nodding, I say, "Sure."

As he steps into the kitchen, I do a few breathing exercises to prepare myself to say what needs to be said.

Zenon returns with two frosty glasses of lemonade and hands me one.

"Thanks," I say, accepting the glass and then taking a sip of the cool, tangy drink. It's sweet and bitter at the same time but extremely refreshing in the hot summer sun.

Zenon sits on one of the chairs and gets comfortable, watching me and waiting.

"When we discussed making amends with those we've hurt as part of the twelve-step process, you were the first person that popped into my mind. You, then my father, my brother, my mom, and my best friend. In that order. It was based on whom I thought I hurt the most and who definitely hurt me."

"How did I hurt you, Dani?" he asks.

"You never gave me a chance to explain my actions that day at the game. You accepted what you saw and ran with it as though it were fact."

"What I saw was my girlfriend being cuddled and kissed by another man. When I came to confront you about it at your hotel room later, I found you and that same guy having sex. Tell me what part I ran with, Dani," he says as his voice breaks at the end of the sentence.

I gasp.

"I never knew that you came to the hotel that day. I never even saw you there."

"I know," he says quietly. "I backed out of the room when I saw...when I saw the two of you going at it. I didn't want to make things worse, and I wasn't about to embarrass myself...or you," he says after an awkward pause.

Even in his pain, Zenon was protecting me. Now it makes sense why he blocked me out of his life, not accepting my calls, texts, or visits.

"Johan was aware of who you were to me. I had no plans to be at that game that day. I wasn't lying when I told you that the day before. Things were becoming more serious between you and me than I wanted them to be. I cared about you a lot, Zenon, but I knew that I wasn't the woman for you."

"How could you say that when you were the only one who made me happy, Dani?"

Sighing, I say, "You were the only one who made me happy, too, Z, but..." I pause and inhale deeply before continuing. "Serious commitment requires more than happiness. I had nothing more to give."

"Why not?"

I close my eyes and pray for the strength to be honest and to hold myself accountable for making amends. Internally, I quote Philippians four and thirteen, the NKJ version.

I can do all things through Christ who strengthens me.

I've never been a spiritual person in the past, but through my rehab, I learned to read the Bible, and I've learned to pray. Something that my mama would be proud of because she's always prayed and read the Bible.

"I made a series of commitments prior to becoming involved with you. They were arrangements with a few very wealthy men. They opened doors for my career that I couldn't open on my own. They had access to places the Maxwells didn't.

"Part of that was getting my own show with the Horoscope network owned by Johan Jurgen. He opened that door for me in exchange for favors. Those favors included being on his arm when he needed or wanted me to be. It didn't matter where in the world he was when he called, I dropped whatever and whomever I was doing and came to his side. He paid the expenses. I simply had to show up."

"Are you saying that he requested your presence at my game?"

"That's exactly what I'm saying. I got the call at two that morning that he was on his way to Italy. He wanted to know where I was, and I told him that I was already there. Until twenty minutes before the game, I had no idea what event we were attending until he made me change from a dress into casual wear.

"That was the first time I had attended a sporting event with him. It made me sick, Z, that he asked me to attend your game. I was praying that you wouldn't see me. Of course, he had box seats in the suite for us to sit in. Why wouldn't he?" I say, releasing a sardonic laugh.

"Did you have to humiliate me in public the way that you did with that kiss?"

"I wasn't trying to, Z. Honestly, I was caught off guard when he began kissing me the way that he did. He's never engaged in PDA before. I was not okay with it because we're not in a relationship. It was just an exchange of favors. That's all," I say softly.

"I guess you're going to tell me that those favors included sexual pleasure?"

"They did. And he wasn't the only one, Zenon. That's why I couldn't be with you. I knew what I'd done, and I didn't want to taint you that way. I hurt you, and I know that, Z. I intentionally hurt you just so that you would give up any notions about you and me forever."

"That's fucked up, Dani."

"It was, and for that, I'm sorry. You meant a lot to me, and while I had no right to treat you the way that I did, I didn't mean to cause the sort of damage that I did. Johan Jurgen is a cruel man. He loves having people at his beck and call and pulling their strings on a whim.

"Nothing gave him more pleasure than finding out that you and I were dating. It's the reason that I always wanted us to stay out of the public eye. Where I tried protecting our relationship from prying eyes, you always felt that I was hiding something."

"Weren't you?"

"I was, but I wasn't hiding you. You thought that I was ashamed to be with you, and I wasn't. I knew that if the wrong people found out about us, they would destroy any chance of happiness we had. I didn't learn until later that Johan found out about our relationship the week before. That's the only reason he wanted to be at your game. He wanted you to see me on his arm and to show me that he could control me however he wanted to."

"And why? Why would you give him that control, Dani?"

"Because I wanted my own show. That's what had been promised to me in exchange for what I could give to him."

"I hope that you're happy with what you got. I hope it was all worth it," he says sourly.

"It wasn't. I've been through hell the last few years mostly because of my guilty conscience. Between what I did to you and the things I'd done before you, it all became too much to bear. It was easier to drink, smoke, snort, or pop a pill to forget the damage that I'd caused, and the pain that I suffered because of my choices, than it was facing them."

I push off the chaise lounge and walk to the railing. I lean forward dangerously and glance down at the sidewalk.

Couples, families, and friends walk by in their swimwear, toting umbrellas, chairs, boogie boards, or towing coolers behind them. A dog across the street barks at the people coming and going to the beach.

I glance up at the sun beaming down overhead. It's ninety-eight degrees today, and it's just noon. Turning away from the railing, I sit back down and grab my glass of lemonade.

Trailing a finger over the condensation, I say, "I didn't take self-responsibility for my actions because a part of me just didn't give a fuck, Z."

Zenon remains quiet. His long, hairy legs are stretched out in front of him. His hands are crossed at the back of his neck, and his eyes are closed.

He appears to be resting, but the telltale signs of the strain and stress are etched on his face, from the deep burrows in his forehead to the lines around his clenched mouth. Every now and then, his eyelids jump, and the veins in his neck pulse.

I take a long sip of the lemonade before setting it on the table between us.

"I created a rift between us where we could have had a beautiful relationship. I was so ashamed of the things that I'd done in my past, and I didn't want you to find out about them and judge me. Hell," I scoff. "I was still doing some of those things."

"Why didn't you trust me? I always told you that you could tell me anything, and I wouldn't hold it against you or judge you."

"That's easy to say, Zenon. People say that all the time, but in the world that I come from, that's rarely true. Do you know how many people are holding secrets over each other's heads to get a favor? No one upholds their words. That's just something that sounds good."

Turning sideways, Zenon leans forward and rests his arms on his knees. "Relationships are built on trust, Dani. If you can't trust me, then we have nothing."

His voice is pleading and soft. It tugs at my heart.

"It's hard for me to trust in the world that I came from. I started modeling at sixteen. My parents didn't want that for me because they thought that I could do better. My mom insisted I would sell my soul if I went into the industry. I did. My father said that I would be used, abused, and broken and that the world was no place for a girl of my stature and background. He was right."

I release a humorless chuckle when I think about how poorly my parents underestimated that world.

"They didn't know the half of it. But I was a disillusioned teenager determined to set off into the world and prove my parents wrong. I had dreams of becoming the next supermodel, and I was unwavering about doing whatever I needed to make that happen. And I did."

I stare off into space as I think about the number of men that I've been with, and the things that I've done in my life. Things that I would never want my parents to find out about, not only because it would prove them right, but also because I would be soiled in their eyes.

There are many things I would never want my children to know about me which is why I'm determined not to have them. And I'm okay with that decision.

"Didn't your name afford you protection?"

Shaking my head, I say, "No. Because I wanted to make it on my own, I didn't use my last name. In fact, I worked hard to cover up that I was a Maxwell from the Maxwells. That didn't last for long, though. It seemed like once people discovered who I was, they got kicks out of abusing me even more than before."

"Why didn't you just reach out to your parents when things got so bad?"

Closing my eyes, I fight the tears that want to come.

"My father gave me an ultimatum at sixteen. If I stepped out of those doors to do the things that he did not approve of, I should never consider returning. He told me that if I left home, there was no home to come to."

"Why didn't you just wait until you were eighteen?"

"The opportunity was right there at my feet. It was something that I wanted badly after someone planted the idea in my head. Our family was on vacation in L.A. visiting my mother's cousin. He and his wife thought I looked like a model. That planted a seed in my head, especially when they made the same comment a year later when we were visiting again for a family reunion.

"By that time, I was sixteen years old, and I expressed an interest in wanting to get an agency behind me. My mom's cousin said that they would be willing to let me stay with them while I worked on getting with an agency. But they gave me three months to make it happen, or I would have to return home. It was summertime, and I was stoked. My dad was at a convention that year and didn't attend with us. My mom called him jokingly and said that I would be pursuing a modeling career, and my dad agreed. Of course, they both expected that I would be back home in Charleston when the summer ended."

"Apparently, that didn't happen for you," Zenon observes.

Shaking my head, I say, "No, I went to a few different agencies. Two days before I was scheduled to return home, I was finally accepted by L.A. Models. I signed with them and informed my family that I would be remaining in L.A. Of course, that didn't go over well with Dad. When I refused to return home, he flew out to L.A. to talk some sense into my head. That's when he gave me the ultimatum."

"If Zílda were to come home and say, ‘Dad, I'm moving halfway across the country from you to pursue a career, and she had not finished school yet, I would be furious. The answer would be no.'"

"With no consideration?"

"Not at sixteen. No."

"Well, unfortunately for me, I understand exactly where he was coming from now. I didn't back then."

"Would you do it all over again if you had the chance?"

"Zenon, part of my twelve-step program is owning the mistakes that I've made, and boy, have I made a lot. If I hadn't gone through what I have been through, would I be the woman that I am today? No, I wouldn't. My sobriety is sacred to me, and I put in the work every moment to maintain it. I wouldn't appreciate life, clarity of mind, or be as cautious with people's feelings as I'm learning to become had it not been for all that I've gone through."

"Are you, though? Cautious with people's feelings, I mean?"

"I would like to believe that I am. Only time will tell, huh? It's not easy for me to sit here and tell you the things that I'm telling you. And even now, I haven't told you nearly everything. The only thing that I'm trying to do is make amends by being a different woman than the one that you knew."

"I loved that woman," he says, ducking his head and looking at me from underneath his brow.

"You loved parts of her, Z, but not the whole. It was impossible for you to because she was fractured. You never met the other half."

Zenon reaches his hand out to me, and I take it. "If you would have been open to letting me love you the way you deserved to be loved and the way that I wanted to love you, there would be no reason for those other parts of you to exist. They would have simply dissipated because they were all based on a superficial notion of life anyway. Those parts were nothing more than an alter ego you created to exist in this world. You didn't need them. You only needed my love. I would have made you complete."

"And yet, I can't be complete with you until I'm complete within myself," I say softly.