“Were you thinking about anything stressful before you fell asleep?”
“No. Well, what isn’t stressful these days?” I half laugh then slide my finger across the screen of my phone to wake it up. I frown, expecting at least a few notifications. “I think Dean is stalking me on social media.”
“What makes you say that?” She’s scribbling again. I want to snatch that little notebook from her and throw it out the window. Instead, I sit calmly, thumb swiping up on my screen absent-mindedly.
“I’m getting these comments on my posts from a guy I don’t know. It looks like a burner account, and I know Dean would do that.”
“Harass you online with a fake account?”
“Yeah. I should have blocked him the moment he walked out the door, but then I posted this picture with an empty wine bottle and I was too late…” I shake my head. So many regrets.
“What kind of things are they commenting?”
I pause, wondering if I should tell her the full truth. I decide on a watered-down version. “I found out on social media this weekend that Jesika is pregnant.”
“Who is Jesika?”
Shit.I didn’t mean to use her real name. “His new girlfriend. And they’re engaged. He never wanted kids when we were together,” I say sadly. My stomach lurches uncomfortably at just the memory of the engagement announcement she posted. “So I know they’re motivated to get the divorce moving along. I don’t even have the heart to read the divorce papers, but I did skim the page that divided our assets. Bastard didn’t list all the investments I know he’s got, and he’s offering a very small stipend per month in lieu of alimony.” My blood begins to boil as I think back on it. “So Saturday, I log in to my social media account and come across a few comments from a guy who isn’t evenfollowing me—obviously, he knows what’s going on. One comment just said‘LIAR’in shouty caps. Another comment said‘do the right thing or else.’I dread logging in to social media now.” That last part isn’t exactly true, but it sounds good. “I’ve had trolls before, it happens, but this just feels personal.”
“Hmm.” She scribbles some more shit in her notebook and avoids my gaze. “What do you think they meant byor else?”
I shrug, annoyed that she’s being so calm. “Dean is crazy. When he gets angry, he just fixates on destroying whatever is in front of him. He was supposed to be working on that in therapy, but who knows if he’s even still going now that he’s gotJesika.” I can’t help the disdain that leaks into my tone when I say her name.
“This situation has been very difficult. A few months ago, weren’t you discussing how toxic things had gotten between the two of you? Fighting more and concerned that he was spending more time at work and not with you? Is there some relief that you finally know what’s been going on, why he’s been so distant?”
“Relief?” I’m shocked. “You think I should be relieved?”
“I don’t think you should feel anything but how you’re feeling.” She waits a beat and then continues. “Dean was also frustrated with the social media aspect of your business, wasn’t he?” I nod, wondering where this is leading. “Maybe it’s time to shut down the account for a while.”
“You think I should kill my online persona?” I frown.
“Kill the brand, at least. Have you thought about what that would look like?”
“Yeah, it would look like me living in a tent on Skid Row.”
She chuckles and shakes her head. “You’re so funny, you could be a comedian. So maybe next week, we can work on some coping mechanisms for when you’re feeling emotionallyovercome. I think I have some handouts that might shift your perspective on this.”
“Hm.” I swipe at my phone again as the therapist closes her notebook and tucks it between her thigh and the chair arm. She stands, catching my eye and smiling easily. “Is our session over already?”
Kelly nods. “It is, but you know you’re welcome to reach out via email or text anytime if you’re struggling.”
I nod, thinking how I would never do that. In fact, I’m sure this is something therapists just say so you feel supported. The reality of clients reaching out after hours must be a nightmare. I’m thankful for her gesture just the same, though. “You seem distracted today, Doc.”
My therapist catches my gaze, eyes lingering for a long moment as if she’s considering revealing more about herself. “You’re very perceptive.”
I smile, only watching her watch me. I’ve been seeing this woman for almost two decades, and I hardly know if I’d recognize her on the street. I’m so used to seeing her only in the context of this room, my pain and frustration the sole topic of all of our conversations. I wonder what she thinks of me, really. I imagine snatching her little notebook and running off with it just to find out.
“My sister is moving this weekend. She’s on a plane now, and I have to be at the airport in an hour to pick her up. She’s been working overseas for the last two years, teaching at an English school in Shanghai and having all of these incredible adventures. I’m a little nervous to see her, I suppose. She’s staying with me until she can find a place to rent, but I swear she was born a rolling stone. She’ll probably have a flight booked by the end of the week to some new exotic locale. We’re so different…our likes and dislikes are worlds apart, but she’s the only family I have left, so I try to embrace all the differences that make usus.”
Kelly’s eyes track up and down my form before she smiles and continues, “You look like her, actually. Same hair color and bone structure, even the same big, round eyes. She’s beautiful and statuesque, and in truth, I’ve always felt a little self-conscious around her.” Kelly places a hand on her thick waist. “I’ve been struggling to lose the same fifty pounds for a decade, and being thin and active just seems to come naturally to her.”
I nod, smile sweetly, and then reply, “Well, I’m sure you’ll have a great time with your sister—what did you say her name was again?”
“Oh, I didn’t. But it’s Katie. Katie and Kelly. So original, right?”
“Sounds like twins.”
“We don’t look like twins. In fact, you could probably pass for her sister more than me. People usually mistake us for mother and daughter when we go out.”
