Page 8 of Someone Like You

“She couldn’t make it again this evening,” he stated, walking to the couch and lowering himself onto it as if no further explanation was needed.

I hated the thrill of happiness that soared through me with his pronouncement. There was no way that I should be feelingthis way nor basking in the warmth that floated through my body, knowing that I was about to be alone in my office with Casimir Perez again.

“Oh.” I walked back to my desk, sat down, and scribbled a couple of notes on a notepad. “She does realize that for this process to be successful, both of you need to be here, doesn’t she?”

Casimir’s eyes lowered to the floor before flicking back up to meet mine. Rubbing his hands together, he replied, “Yes, she knows. There was something important tonight that had to be taken care of.”

“More important than your marriage?” I challenged.

“I guess so, Dr. Champagne. I guess so.”

I noticed his tone sounded resigned, as if there were no other options.

“How do you feel about that, Mr. Perez?”

“Can we please dispense with the formalities, Doctor?”

“As in?”

“Can you please just call me Casimir? I’ll still reference you as Doctor if you prefer, but I’d like to leave all of that at the office. When I leave that place, I like to leave everything attached to it behind as well. And Mr. Perez is one of those things.”

“If that makes you more comfortable, we can do that. And just for the record, I don’t mind if you call me Giselle.”

He nodded his head and folded his hands together as if contemplating. I waited as he gathered his thoughts.

“I really don’t know how to feel about her making other things a priority over our marriage. I can’t really say that it bothers me because that’s how it’s always been, and that’s what’s expected. There are certain things in our circle that cannot be avoided. Things are the way they are, and I understood that when we first decided to marry. Do I like it?” He tossed his head from side to side as if weighing something on a scale.

“I don’t think I really care. Would I expect it in a normal marriage? No. I’d never tolerate it, but we don’t have a traditional marriage, Giselle. Perhaps, in the way they do in some countries, but not in the way I’ve been raised.”

“What do you consider a normal marriage, Casimir?” I was curious as to what he meant by traditional and normal. His comment had struck a note with me, causing me to wonder if that was the one thing that I had noted was different about their marriage.

I counseled couples who had open marriages, couples who married for business reasons, and couples who married for citizenship purposes. I couldn’t help but wonder which group the Perezes fell into. Surely not the latter.

“A marriage where two people commit their lives to one another to enhance each other spiritually, psychologically, socially, and emotionally. A relationship that is built on trust, love, honor, respect, and commitment. A circle of unity where two people can grow together and develop strength through the good and the bad times, and that union is impenetrable. I believe a normal marriage is one where the husband does not dominate his wife, but he leads her and lovingly guides her. And she respects him and trusts him to do just that. He knows their strengths and weaknesses. He stands strong in the areas where his strength is best displayed, and he stands back and allows her to do the same in her area. They are one unit in Christ. Friends. Lovers. One eternal heartbeat.”

Unclasping his hands, Casimir sat back, crossed his ankle over his left knee, and splayed his arms across the back of the couch. When his eyes met mine, I saw something in them that shook me to the core and caused my heartbeat to speed up.

Lord, help me, I prayed silently.

“Why don’t you believe you have that type of marriage?” I prompted.

He chuckled. “I’d think even you’d know the answer to that by now, Doc,” he teased, a glint in his eye.

“It doesn’t matter what I think, Casimir. I’d like to know how you feel.”

Rubbing his hand over the top of his head, he replied softly, “We have an arranged marriage, Giselle.”

Taken aback, I struggled inwardly not to allow my composure to reflect outwardly. The way he said my name sounded so personal; it was like an intimate caress. But it was his statement that shook me to my core.

Arranged marriages weren’t an unusual phenomenon, but in my culture, they were almost unheard of. How had a man like Casimir found himself in that situation?

Honestly, though he presented a polished, cultured professional when he attended sessions with his wife, it was the other side that he presented when she wasn’t here that intrigued me. I knew that side was the real him. The side that spoke slang and was more relaxed. The side of him that acted up, laughed, and flirted.

“I’m surprised that you even expected love from your marriage since it was nothing more than an arrangement.”

“Even the most cynical people need and want love, Giselle.”

“Did you set certain expectations up front?”

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