Preying Mantis: Forgiving is not forgetting

By Tanay Sawyer

After her fiancé fatally ripped her heart from her chest, just to sprinkle the confettied pieces at her feet. Franschesa thought it would be best to throw love to the wolves and grab lust by the hand.

Now, struggling with what has become an addiction, emotionally anorexic Franchesca uses her prowess as a sexual hypnotic for pe

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tanay C. Sawyer
• Release date: Dec 13, 2023
• ISBN: 9798218260118

Tanay Sawyer

I've experienced many healthy and unhealthy relationships in my life. If I hadn't experienced it, I've seen it first-hand. Seeing a lot of pinned up animosity, family unwilling to forgive, selfish friendships and the blame game being played amongst significant others. And I realized there is something to be learned through all of this. At what point did loving relationships turn tumultuous? Was it a collaborative effect? Why are we like this? Is it denial or lack of empathy? Through this journey, I discovered a lot about myself, in addition to others. About who I am at the core vs. who I wanted to be. I needed to self-assess before I could aid in anyone's transformation. As I matured, so did the relationships I allowed into my life and the boundaries I set. It allowed for more understanding communication, instead of constant rivalry. The more I understood myself, the more I wanted to take the time to understand others and their emotional struggles. Now, I understand that all of our emotional turmoil stems from a private source that we sometimes don't want to revisit. Whether it's from hurt, humiliation or anger, we have to go to that place to transform who we are into who we're going to be. That's what will transform how we cultivate new relationships and rebuild the old ones. My vision is to encourage people to develop and sustain healthy relationships of all kind, while learning how to heal for themselves and offer love to others.

Book preview

Preying Mantis

Forgiving is not, forgetting…

Tanay Sawyer

Copyright 2023 Tanay C. Sawyer

All Rights Reserved.

ISBN paperback: 979-8-218-26009-5

ISBN hardcover: 979-8-218-26010-1

LCCN: 2023914816

Any reference of events, real people, or real situations are used fictitiously. Names and characters are products of the author’s imagination.

Book Design by Jetlaunch

Printed by Jetlaunch in The United States of America

First printed edition 2023

Publisher:

Tanay C. Sawyer; United States

Dedication

This novel is dedicated to all my friends who have struggled or are struggling to rediscover themselves after a fall from a tumultuous relationship. Don’t allow that piece of your past to define the who, you are tomorrow.

You can rise again, and you will.

Contents

Preface

Chapter 1 The Beginning

Chapter 2 Loveless Nights

Chapter 3 The Tangled Web

Chapter 4 Unlikely Story

Chapter 5 The Chase

Chapter 6 Jealousy Unraveled

Chapter 7 The Victim

Chapter 8 Back on the Bandwagon

Chapter 9 The Aftermath

Chapter 10 The Assessment

Chapter 11 The Reconnection

Chapter 12 The Call

Chapter 13 The Tables Turn

Chapter 14 Reconciliation

Chapter 15 Retribution

Chapter 16 Redemption

Appendix A: Discussion Questions

Appendix B: Next Steps

Preface

The inspiration for this novel stemmed from the struggle that our loved ones, family and friends have in relationships of all varieties. Some of us have a tumultuous relationship with ourselves and/or those around us, which inadvertently leads to behavior that is out of our character. Sometimes that behavior leads us down a dark path and it remains unseen until it’s too late or we’ve hit rock bottom, hurting everyone we care about. But there’s always an opportunity to make a choice. A choice to love ourselves. To forgive others. And to heal.

I want to acknowledge my mother, Deborah Lessane, for teaching me how to be a survivor, and my grandmother, Lois New, for showing me what love and adoration are supposed to feel like and how to shower others with the same care. That life-long encouragement, and the lessons imprinted on me helped transform me into who I am today.

Chapter 1

The Beginning

It’s winter finals, and I don’t know which is making me regret my life’s decisions more, choosing architecture as my major or being the subject of Blithe’s psychology paper. They’re both pretty close. Staring at my half-finished blueprint for my fictitious high-rise, I hear Blithe mutter.

Next question.

I spin my desk chair toward Blithe anticipating and hoping it will be her last question for the night.

If love is a decision, how do you exp—. Blithe starts.

"OH MY GAWD!" I drop my head backward, staring blankly at the stained dorm room ceiling.

She chuckles. I’m joking! But maybe it’s not a bad idea to take a break.

I consider the benefit of allowing my brain to stop thinking on energy drinks. I could probably take a nap.

Blithe snaps. "A NAP? Not really what I had in mind…PIZZA!"

I tilt my head to the side. You just want to see your boy toy.

Maybe, but you get pizza.

Cole and Blithe have been dating since sophomore year and they’re still in the honeymoon phase. It’s adorable, but it also makes you want to pop your eyes out like in Beetlejuice. There are only so many bunny nose kisses a person can see. But overall, he’s a great guy.

My friends are the type who will push you off a cliff if it means better for you afterward. You might suffer a few bumps and bruises, but their intentions are always pure. Especially, Blithe. Since we randomly sat next to each other in English Literature for our first year at Boston University, we’ve ‘real talked’, cried, crammed, whined and laughed our way through. I taught her how to study, and she taught me how not to study so much. Balance. Although, her definition of balance also includes my love life. But with all my courses, I don’t have the energy to devote to another person. Sounds like work, piled onto work.

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Pizza does sound good, though. I lock the door and shuffle down the hall after Blithe, catching up just in time for a gust of frigid air to smack me in the face. My eyes widen and fill with tears, while my lungs gasp for another breath. Do I really want pizza that bad?

Hurry up, Blithe calls from the middle of the campus walkway.

I jog toward her, and we speed walk to my car. A five-minute outdoor activity seems like an eternity in the bitter cold, until we hear the Greek sound of Sigma Phi being chanted by five frat bros passing a football. Blithe and I slowly come to a stop, staring at the middle of the courtyard, bewildered by the act.

You guys are going to freeze to death, Blithe yells.

Her voice distracts as the thrower launches the football, and it’s coming for us at full speed.

"WATCH OUT!" Blithe shouts as a human body propels me backward.

Then, I feel excruciating pain in my foot. I drop to the concrete like a cinderblock, howling for help that I know my peers can’t offer. All the frat brothers gather around me as if they are being awarded their Greek letters, murmuring, Is she ok? Should we take her inside? Profanity spews from my mouth as I rest my chin on my bended knee, wrapping my mitten-covered hands around my shoe, hoping to help dull the pain.

I’m so sorry! one of the boys says. I jumped up for the ball and came down on her foot.

Come on, Franchesca. Can you get up and stand on it? Blithe nurtures.

Two of the boys help lift me to my feet. I apply weight to the uninjured foot, then slowly guide my left foot forward for the pressure test. Placing it onto the ground, the piercing agony travels from the tip of my toe through my entire foot. As I wail for the pain to stop, my heart beats faster and I begin to sweat in the 35-degree weather. My body loses the strength to hold itself up and my mind transcends to darkness.

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Beep… Beep… Beep… My sleep is interrupted, and I awaken to the smell of rubber gloves and plastic. I repeatedly lift my eyelids until my vision is no longer blurry. Catching a glimpse of the butterfly needle protruding from my arm, I snap into full consciousness, frantically shifting my eyes around the room for a semblance of familiarity. Trying to escape from my bed, not realizing a cast resting around my leg.

Heeey! You’re awake, exclaims a boy as he leaps from a cushioned hospital chair.

Who are you? Where’s Blithe? I ask, taking in shallow breaths.

No need to freak out. I’m Xander. The very apologetic guy that accidentally broke your foot.

"MY FOOT IS BROKEN!?"

Xander scratches his right temple. Did the cast not give it away? I brought you flowers. He points to the vase of lilies.

Oh great. Can you rub them on my cast? Maybe that’ll heal me.

Exhaling deeply, he says, I don’t know what you want from me. I said I’m sorry, and I’m here.

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I was left in the hospital for days, seeing that I had trouble learning how to function with crutches. But every day, Xander was there, pacing with me back and forth through the halls as I clumsily navigated my new wooden accessories. Encouraging me and evoking joy and laughter.

Blithe says, he is just what I need. Someone light-hearted to show me the other side of life.

On day three, I’m finally discharged with Xander by my side. It’s nice to have someone show they care about me besides Cole and Blithe. Xander drives me home, walks me inside to my dim dorm room, only being illuminated by the shape-shifting wax of my lava lamp. He helps me across the room to my unkempt twin bed, but the best part is that it’s against the only window in the room. I love to people-watch and see how nature transforms as time passes. It helps my mind escape reality, at least for awhile.

He sits on my bed. So, what are you going to do now?

I don’t know. Study. Look, these last few days have been great, and I thank you for all of your help, but you don’t have to feel guilty anymore. I’m ok. You’re off the hook. So, feel free to continue living your life as you normally would. Without me in it.

He chuckles. I stopped feeling guilty after I apologized. I’m here because I want to be.

He stares at me with a crooked smile as I gaze at him blankly, trying to reach an itch inside my cast.

He grabs a ruler from my drawing table. Here, let me help. Is the itch right here?

I anticipate satisfaction. A little to the left.

Ahhhh. As I rest my head on the back of my neck.

He continues for a few moments before he replaces the ruler back to my desk.

Thank you. I chuckle.

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From that day on, Xander makes it his business to stop by my dorm room at least once a day to assess my healing as if he has just trained to be a medical assistant.

Can you wiggle your toes? Remember not to put weight on your foot. He fills my room with aromatic florals and reminds me of the count down until the removal of my cast. I think he receives gratification from taking care of me.

Finally, the day of my cast removal arrives. I thank the heavens that I can move about on my own without restriction. Although, Xander seems to be concerned that it’s too soon.

After the doctor removes the cast, he says, Seems to have healed nicely, rotating my foot, while the nurse examines the x-rays.

Hey doc. She still needs to stay off her foot even-though the cast is off, right? Xander asks.

He glances at the nurse for confirmation. Nope. She’s all set to resume normal activities.

YES! As I jump out of bed, landing on both feet like a gymnast sticking their first landing.

I’m the most excited I’ve been in weeks. No more waddling around on arm stilts! No more being late for class from struggling to hop up two flights of stairs on one foot. My freedom has returned!

As we leave the hospital, I simulate tap dancing in my squeaky tennis shoes.

Snapping his head toward me. You better knock it off before you break it again.

I continue to dance. You heard the doctor. I can go back to doing what I want, but I won’t be getting anywhere near you and a football. I chuckle.

You’re my girlfriend now, so I think my opinion matters.

I almost trip over my own feet at the sound of the word girlfriend. I’m his girlfriend? When did this happen? Was I asleep? Because I don’t remember consenting to this new role. I haven’t dated seriously while in college, so maybe this is the new way of courting. You want something, you go after it. Afterall, that’s been my motto since my mother instilled it in me at age 12. It’s not the worst thing that could slip from his lips. It is adorable of him to think he could have me, simply because he wants me.

How long have you been thinking about this?

He reaches for my fingertips. Awhile, he says, gazing into my dark brown eyes.

And you just made an executive decision without talking to me first? I ask casually.

He releases my hand, forcing it back to my side. I thought we were having a good time.

Resting my hand on his shoulder. A good time doesn’t mean girlfriend. Let me just think it over for a bit.

The car ride home is quiet. I sit in the passenger seat, watching my thumbs circle around each other, while Xander uses his teeth to peel the skin of his bottom lip. I don’t know if he is tense or just has dry lips. I don’t know what to say, but I feel like I should say something. I look up from my thumbs, and we’re parked in the student lot. I turn to him, my mouth slightly gaping for a peace offering, but he immediately swings the driver’s door open and quickly escapes. I continue to sit as he walks toward the dorms.

Xander looks back. Hey! Are you planning on sitting in there all night? I need to set the alarm.

I stare at him through the dirty windshield as he jingles his keys. Then I retreat from the vehicle. The alarm chirps as soon as my door closes. I sulk across the courtyard, my boots slowly crunching in the hardened snow. I watch him casually walk away until he disappears between buildings. The weight in my chest becomes heavier, like a dumbbell hanging from my neck and the pit of my stomach warms as I walk past the place where my broken foot began. This will now be a memory and I guess Xander will be too.

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After a few days, I decide to call to clear the air. It rings a few times, then the voicemail chimes in. I’ll try again tomorrow.

Tomorrow comes, and still nothing. I even try to text. I hate texting. Three days pass, and still no response, but I need to tell him what’s on my mind. I want to know what was on his, even though it is seemingly evident by the unanswered communication. I attempt one last call in anticipation of his voicemail.

Hey Xander. It’s Franchesca. I want to apologize if I hurt you with my response to your girlfriend comment. It wasn’t you. I was surprised and didn’t want to jump into anything before I had an opportunity to think about it. To think about everything. I understand if you don’t want to see me again, but I need you to know that I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I’ll never forget it.

A few more days pass and still nothing. I haven’t been rejected much in my life, but I’m not a fan. I’ve tried all that I’m willing to try. After all, I didn’t know him that long. My life did come to a halt, classes didn’t stop, nor did my heart break. So, farewell Xander. I sincerely wish you well.

It’s the first weekend without my cast and I actually want to celebrate. I’m usually a recluse on Valentine’s Day, as I never have a date, but this year the lovers are going to have to share. The tough part will be finding a few friends to join in my fun. Needing to shower, I burst through our dorm room door, almost tripping over something colorful. Then, bringing myself to a halt on the tips of my toes, I take a peek at the