Whatever Your Heart Desires Ch. 06

I almost died as Danni wove a graphic description of 'dates'. There wasno way she could have known those intimate details without having been there. I had fantasized about Danni being with men and what a turn-on it would be to watch. My experience with her atGothamhad been everything I had ever dreamed, and more. Now, this new, darker vision of her 'working it' was firmly fixed in my head, in the form of my sweet Danni having sex with some anonymous guy so she could eat that day or save up some money for the rent on the little roach-motel studio apartment she described. The thought chilled me to the bone.

Throughout the book, the level of hate, loathing, suspicion, and casual, horrific violence directed against the girls on an almost daily basis numbed the senses. There were beatings, stabbings, shootings, mutilations, rape (until then, I had not considered a girl fortunate toonlybe raped) heaped upon them, both from the outside and within their own community. I felt like beating my own head against the wall to think of my own Danni immersed in this cesspool. Then I thought of the others who lived it every day with her.

She ended on a positive note with Chapter Eleven:When The Reality Is Redeemed

"I hadn't anticipated writing this chapter. Happy endings so seldom happen in our world. In truth, this one hasn't either, but I have seen a glimmer of hope. It came at a most unlikely place and time, amid an improbable tangle of bodies. Two among them had known each other's touch before. The touch became a caress, which begat a kiss, which rekindled a desire that had never really died, despite the tears and trauma.

In that magical previous time, Desire had been the child of Love, Trust, and Faith. Fantasy and Reality had been one and the same - and could be again if you tried. How much of yourself are you willing to invest in the attempt? How much are you willing to risk? How much is Happiness worth?

I finished those words on Thursday night. I felt so uplifted by them, felt happy endings justmightbe possible after all. Then, I read the epilog:

"Celine D'Arcy died on a warm afternoon in April from complications of AIDS. She didn't linger, which was a blessing – one of the few in her twenty-six years. The sun streaming in through the hospital window warmed her, where the embrace of her long-departed lovers could not. Some of her friends attended; those that were strong enough to face the shadow of mortality that might all too soon embrace them as well. Her family attended her, too; that is, if you count me as 'family'. She seemed to think so. We were family at a time we had no other, whatever our respective reasons. That made me feel special, loved. Isn't that what Family is all about? I hope she felt the same way. That, and this book are her only legacy."

I cried myself to sleep around three AM, then called in sick on Friday. I read it again over the weekend.

Danni's book broke huge and stayed huge. She made the rounds of the talk shows. Some interviewers were encouraging and sympathetic. The rest were at least civilized, given her commercial success. Dear God, she looked beautiful! Then again, she always had. Her body looked even better under the studio lights. She wore the charcoal suit and crepe blouse that looked so good on her. Her new boobs were exquisite!

Danni revealed the book had originally been commissioned as a free-lance feature story for a major men's magazine (that must have been the "big project" she had mentioned). She had felt a special attraction, even kinship to that world as long as she could remember. She had felt lucky to snag the assignment, but the T-girl community was notoriously closed to outsiders, particularly men. She wasn't sure how she was going to get close enough to the people to do the story justice. Then, Kismet intervened, in the form of the person she loved most in life. Through an unbelievable series of circumstances, she was handed her 'entré' to that world on a silver platter – along with a unique insight she could never have achieved as a man.

As she delved more deeply into the story, she realized she could not possibly do it justice in twenty-five hundred words. She went back to the magazine, notes in hand, and cut a deal with their publishing arm for a book instead. She was then able to detail her own story, in depth, as well as those of the other girls.

One of the humorous aspects of the story – one she told on several talk shows – described her return to the magazine's corporate headquarters, this time as a woman. Upon her arrival, there had been a misunderstanding by the receptionist. The woman had sent Danni to the wrong room – the one where they were auditioning prospective centerfolds. She had actually made the first cut when the 'error' was discovered. When the Publisher heard about it, she sent Danni back downstairs for the photo shoot, to be used as a publicity tie-in to the book.

One of the interviewers, a woman, pursued the angle of Danni's own transformation.

"Danielle, you have previously mentioned you would not have been able to get close to the transgender community had you not been one yourself. Does that mean you transitioned specifically to write this book?"

"No, of course not! To be honest, I wasn't even thinking about the story when my transformation began. I had always harbored a desire, but had never acted upon it, for fear of turning my real-world existence and personal relationship upside-down. It began as a sensual experiment between two consenting adults and blossomed from there. She didn't want it to end and neither did I. The entré it gave me to the "T" community was a nice plus. I have no regrets about either."

"You said your transformation was brought about by 'the person you loved most in life'. That was your wife, wasn't it?"

"Actually, she considered me to beherwife."

"Is she, uh, more masculine than you were?"

"Not even close. I can onlydreamof being the centerfold material she is. When we were together, I wanted the whole world to see her and know how lucky I was. The only reason I don't reveal her identity now is my respect for her privacy."

"Wow. Returning to the subject of your transformation. She enjoyed it? She enjoyed you as a woman?"

Danni smiled.

"Several times a night."

The interviewer grinned.

"How were the forces that drove the two of you apart different from the forces that split up more conventional couples?"

"They weren't different at all. In spite of people's perceptions of us, my spouse and I were subject to the same personal and social pressures as every other couple. The cause of our split was distressingly – or reassuringly – common to everyone. Thepeople broke, not the gender dynamic."

"I couldn't help but notice you still wear your wedding ring. Aren't you divorced?"

"No. Technically, we are only estranged, unless she has taken some recent action that I am not aware of."

"So there is still a chance for a reconciliation?"

Danni smiled again, looking inward.

"When we first split I thought: 'no way'. I immersed myself in my work – working on this story. I saw so muchemptiness, heartache, people who hadno one who would accept them for who they were. I looked back at whatIhad had and realized how good it had been. I thought about it a lot. I began to see that the thing that split us up was... well, I won't call itpetty, but it just didn't seem so important anymore. Then, something happened one night, a couple of months ago... well, let's just say the chances are looking better."

"Have you spoken to her recently?"

"Yes, I have. We ran into each other a while back. It felt good after such a long separation. I remembered why I fell in love with her in the first place."

"What would you say to her if she were here right now?"

"I would tell her she is still The One. She always has been and always will be. That is why I still wear the ring."

"What do you think she would say toyouright now?"

"I wouldn't presume to put words in her mouth."

I could answer that one – even through my tears.

"I WOULD TELL YOU TO COME HOME, DAMMIT!", I screamed at the television. "I LOVE YOU. I ALWAYS HAVE AND ALWAYS WILL!"

"Will you call her?"

"I think so, when I'm ready. That will probably have to wait until after the book tour."

"Thank you, Danielle Devereaux."

Book tour?

I went to the publisher's web site and looked it up.She would be here in a week!

***

The autograph session began at three. I don't know if she saw me in line. I had gotten to the bookstore early – or so I thought. There were already three-dozen or so people in line, waiting for Danni and her entourage to show up. A hundred or so more came after me. All wanted to get their copies signed by a genuine 'home town celebrity'. A few of the men had brought copies of the magazine to have her autograph the historic centerfold.

She didn't make a huge scene as I handed her my copy. The media was there and I don't think she wanted them to know who I was. Even then, she was protecting my privacy. Her eyes sparkled a bit more brightly than before and her smile was a bit larger. She was very deft in her slight-of-hand. I don't think anyone other than me noticed she exchanged my copy for one that had been in her lap.

I stifled my impulse to look until I was out the door. The overleaf was completely filled on both sides. I froze in the middle of the sidewalk, rooted to the spot, as I read her words.

Dearest Kristen,

You were, are, and will continue to be the love of my life. Nothing, before or since, even comes close to the joy I shared with you. The night I left was the most anguished and painful ever, more so than anything I have endured since. There hasn't been a day I haven't thought of you, of us, with longing and regret. There hasn't been a night I haven't missed your touch, your warmth, and the nearness of you.

Much has happened in my life, as this book details. Some of it took place while we were still together. None of itcould have happened, but for your imagination, creativity, passion, and love for me. I am a better person for it, inside and out. Not all the world may agree with that assessment, but I cannot be all things to all people. I must content myself with being the best I can be for me. I had hoped I became the best I could be for you, as well, but I don't count on that. Either way, thank you for helping me achieve what I have.

I never stopped loving you. Idid stop believing in you. I was probably wrong in doing so. You had always been honest with me about your casual infidelities, where others would not have been. I accepted you on that basis, foolishly thinking, like so many others, I could 'change' you in time. Instead, you changed me – for the better, I think. The exceptions to that were my heightened, feminine emotions – the negative ones. I discovered them the night I caught you with Ron Randall.

I actually felt the first pangs of jealousy at Friday's when he first hit on you. Remember what happened when we got home? I tried so hard to make you forget all about him. Of course, you didn't, did you? I came home to find you fucking him in our bed. I had never felt so betrayed in my life. Oooh, how I wanted revenge! I got it, too. I slept with Lexi and Gwen and rejoiced when you found out.

When I found out what really happened that night, I almost died. I am still uncomfortable you invited them over without including me in the loop. Still, I would never wish that on you or anyone we know.

I got into The Life because it is so intimately linked to the social fabric of the girls I wrote about. If I wanted to understand THEM, I had to understand IT. I had an ulterior motive, too. I dated men and sometimes women, thinking I was, in some way, getting back at you. Of course, it didn't work out that way.

A lot of it was pretty mechanical. There was nothing remotely attractive about most of my dates; I just took the money and did what they wanted. Still, there is something intoxicating about seeing that look in their eyes, the look that says they want me so badly they are willing to pay to have me. I know if I had dated more, or longer, I would have been just as burnt out and dead inside as the other girls, but I didn't, and I'm not sorry I feel the way I do.

Every once in a while, I got a guy who was really HOT, one that got me off even as I was getting him off. The best ones were usually spontaneous, pick-ups in whatever club I was working (the guy I was with at Gotham that night was one of those). Seeing that look in his eyes, seeing the bulge in his pants, knowing I made that bulge happen, and I know I just have to have him. We would go somewhere, and I would peel off his pants, then touch that beautiful cock of his for the first time.... Mmmm, Baby, that just makes me so wet! I know this sounds sappy, but I think I understand you better now.

I never slept with Celine, but not for lack of desire. She would not allow it. I did not find out why until later. Say what you will about her. Once you got past the 'attitude', she was one of the most decent, caring human beings I have ever met. In fact, she reminded me of you. Losing her was like watching you die before my eyes. I suffered for that, and still do.

Seeing you at Gotham on your birthday, sharing that special fantasy with you, made me realize just how empty my life has been without you in it. I cannot forget what happened to make me leave you, just as you cannot forget what I have done since. The best we can do is to forget it matters. You made me what I am today, in every sense. In so doing, you madeus stronger; perhaps strong enough to survive this little blip on the radar screen. I still wear my ring, and proudly. As a very smart cookie once pointed out to me, "this is forever." My greatest mistake, and regret, is not taking her at her word. If we give it some time, perhaps we can fix even that.

With all my love,

Danni

I had thought I was all cried out. I was wrong. How long had it taken her to formulate those words? What am I talking about? Danni is a professional writer, anauthor now, and a damn good one. She probably knocked it off in one quick draft.Give it some time? Take all the time you need, Sweetie; I'll be waiting.

Through my tears, I almost missed the hastily-scribbled Post-It note stuck on the title page.

I'll be done here by five; O'Malley's after. Would you like to share a fantasy?

D.

Iran for the car as fast as my feet would carry me. God helpanyone who stood between me an O'Malley's front door!