Reality Check

20. Benedict Atwood

As you know, I very strongly dislike talking about my feelings. It's not my thing. Never has been. I don't open up particularly easily. Noelle can usually coax details out of me if something's obviously wrong. Kyle and I talked about emotions and all that stuff. I'll never speak to that man again as long as I live, so it's just Noelle now.

My aversion to emotional conversations is actually the reason for the demise of my sort-of relationship with Sean. We broke up a year ago after dating exclusively for five or six months. He opened up about his difficult upbringing and past relationships. Naturally, he wanted to hear about mine—not in a nosy way, just because he wanted to know me better—but I couldn't bring myself to talk about them. Discussing my past hurts, and I don't see the point in voluntarily feeling pain. 

For you, dear reader, I will provide just enough background on Kyle. Consider it a Christmas, Hannukah, and birthday present.

I met him in our general ed writing course the second semester of our freshmen year. We hit it off pretty much right away. He was sweet, funny in a dry sort of way, and super, super, super smart. Like, Tyler-level smart. The last I heard, he's working for a top corporate law firm, putting his Yale Law degree to good use.

For three years, we were inseparable. He helped me heal my relationship with Mom. He was my shoulder to cry on when Gramps passed away. I became more cultured, going to museums and Broadway shows. When I studied abroad, he flew to Paris every month to see me.

I loved him with all my heart.

I know the relationship sounds one-sided, but it wasn't. I coaxed Kyle out of his shell. He started meeting people and fell into my group of friends. I brought out his fun side. He was a happier person when he was with me.

The day before graduation, I walked into the apartment I shared with Noelle and our friend Sabrina, and I found Kyle balls deep in Sabrina on my bed. Not her bed, which was perfectly functional and one room away. No. They had sex on my bed.

That's when I learned that they'd been together since my semester in Paris. When was that? The fall of my junior year. For a year and a half, Kyle and Sabrina snuck around being my back. The second internship he claimed was keeping him busy didn't exist, unless you count spending long hours in his apartment sleeping with someone I thought was my friend as unpaid work experience.

To make matters worse, Sabrina was seemingly perfect, minus the fact that she was a conniving bitch who slept with my boyfriend. She was effortlessly beautiful. Straight auburn hair, jade green eyes, delicate features, curvy with a tiny waist. If her appearance was the only source of her perfection, I wouldn't have been so bothered, but there was more.

Sabrina was—is still, I suppose—brilliant. She had an offer to work at an investment bank before she even graduated. Her family was perfect. I know that because they liked to visit from upstate every couple of weekends, and they always brought Noelle and I out to lunch with them. And she was nice. To everyone. She carried singles around in her purse to give to homeless people. She volunteered on weekends. Our friends loved her, and they still did after everything went down.

The kicker? She and Kyle broke up a couple months after graduation. Mutually. They stayed friends and everything. I expected Kyle to come crawling back to me, but he didn't. Not so much as a drunk text. He moved on with his life without so much of a hint of regret and started dating someone from his law school class. They're engaged now.

I was a guarded person before Kyle. After Kyle, I turned into a human chastity belt, minus the chastity part.

Anyway, now that we've established how much I hate emotions, let's return to the set of Enlisted, where Dr. Jenny Atwood is asking Elijah, Max, Adriana, and I to share our feelings.