AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He offers, as I raise an eyebrow. The only thing personal I know about him is the fact that he kissed me last night.
That sends both shivers and tingles throughout my body as I try to convince my mind that I hadn't enjoyed his lips on mine that much.
"I'm a father."
He pauses, and then uncertainty crosses his face. It's almost as if he instantly regrets letting that out.
"A father? "
I mimic in surprise, as I study his face to see if he's pulling my leg. But he looks dead serious.
“Y-yes. To a six-year-old. Tim… well, we call him Timmy. The reason for my bad mood yesterday is that… well… I fell due to my knee going out. And it happened in front of him. It made me feel weak and embarrassed, setting me in a foul mood.”
Wow… I’m getting a confession and more out of him than I’ve gotten out of all of our therapy sessions combined.
He lets out a deep exhale afterward, like saying that out loud makes him feel free somehow.
I know the feeling because even with my apprehension, I think the same way about him knowing my true identity.
And weirdly, I feel glad that he knows.
That kiss is clouding your mind. He’s your client, not a friend.
“Is that why you hold back so much during therapy? Does having such a big secret make it easy for you not to open up so that it doesn’t accidentally slip out?”
“That and I do have negative thoughts about me being in therapy. But I think it’s due to my insecurities and shortcomings due to my injury.”
“And that’s why therapy is so important, so you don’t keep it bottled in.”
“I might have accidentally let it slip out if you would have let me buy you that drink last night.”
He jokes as I blush at the teasing tone in his voice.
“A therapist having a drink with a client wouldn’t have been such a great look.”
“Dr. Marlene, we live in a small town, not a big city. Those kinds of rules are more for the city. Small towns are less populated, and everyone is supposed to know everyone. I know that Dr. Gibson is married to Mary Beth Gibson, and I heard that years ago, she was his patient when she had pneumonia.”
I can’t argue with that because he’s right. It can be perceived differently in small towns than in big cities.
But it also seemed weird for the client, who never wanted to open up to me in therapy, to invite me to have a drink with them.
“You are right.”
“Okay, so can we have a drink one of these days? Or at least lunch?”
“I’m surprised that you’d want that. You act as if you cannot stand me.”
I find myself joking now, as he chuckles with a nod.
“I admit, I am still trying to decide about you. Maybe my not wanting to do therapy is making me see you more negatively. So, allow me to get to know you better, Dr. Marlene.”
“Okay, fine. We can have dinner tomorrow night. How does that sound?”
He doesn’t answer as he pulls out his phone and types something.
Seconds later, my cell phone vibrates in my back pocket as I pull it out to see that he’s texted me a smiley face.
“I know you gave me your cell phone number when we first met so I could call you whenever I had an emergency after hours. And I know I never used your number…. So here is mine in case you never put mine in your phone. I’d love to have dinner with you tomorrow.”
