“And then he had the audacity to go andnotbe an asshole.” Another small smile.
“Accurate. And frankly, that almost pisses me off more.”
“Why do you think that is?”
“If I knew, I wouldn’t be here,” I say, throwing my hands up in frustration.
She circles the air with her pen. “Nope, try again.”
I grumble and shift uncomfortably on the comfortable sofa.
“Rafi, you’re a smart guy. Come on now, it’s not hard to figure out why you’d be angry.”
It’s okay habibi, you can tell her. I know why you’re mad.
It’s not fair.
It’s also not his fault.
Squinting at me, she asks, “Where’d you go just now?”
“Oh, just having an argument with my husband.”
“And what did he have to say on the matter?”
I sigh, tired of people pointing out my inconsistent shit. “The subconscious representation of my husband is suggesting I’m angry that Roly gets a chance to reform himself.”
“Better.”
“Is it, though? Is it really? How is that better?”
She smirks—because apparently if you’re a kink therapist you can get away with smirking at your patients—and leans forward. “Rafi, I charge $225 an hour, so instead of spending five sessions getting to the point where you can admit out loud,oh I’m really mad the guy who was a shithead to my dead husband gets to go and have a better life, you’ve gotten that squared away in the first thirty minutes and now we can get into your developing feelings for Everett.”
When you put it that way…
“Okay, yeah. That is better.”
She holds up her hands. “I’m not saying it’s an easy truth to accept.”
“No shit.”
She checks her notes, scratches out a few more details, then continues. “So now let’s circle back around to Everett. He’s in the same friend group as Roly, right?”
“Yeah.”
“So, Roly’s definitely going to be someone in your life if you choose to pursue something with the guy you’re interested in.”
I don’t think I’d really put that together. The subconscious is a trip and a half—no wonder I’ve been stressing out about my feelings. I let out another sigh, this one more dramatic than the last. “Looks like it.”
“So maybe it’s not just the timing of things but becoming part of this friend group maybe also feels like a betrayal of what your husband went through.”
They are good people, habibi. I would feel better about you having these people as friends.
“And he’s telling me it’s not a betrayal.”
“Which meansyouknow it’s not a betrayal.”
Tears slip down my cheeks, and I nod. She reaches over, handing me a tissue and sitting patiently while I pull myself together.
