She asked me if I thought that anything had changed between us. At first, I admit I thought it would. But as I stood in the kitchen, wrapped up in her, discussing our reconnection trip, allthis shit was behind us. I knew that Breeze was mine from the moment I laid my eyes on her in middle school. I gave her my last name right after we both turned eighteen. She was mine.My wife. And twenty-four hours couldn’t change that.
Present Day
Breeze Thompson
“Good afternoon, welcome to Long Term Therapy.” Shareese greeted us as she typed on the computer, never looking up.
I let go of Tim’s hand so he could sit while I checked us in. I set my purse on the desk, fished out my wallet, and waited for Shareese to finish typing and notice me.
Her generic smile widened into a genuine one when she saw me standing there.
“Hey, how have you been?” She pressed send, moved to her scheduling system, and checked us in. Then she turned the keypad toward me for payment.
“Great, how are you?”
“Well. Girl! Where did you get that bag? I’ve been looking high and low.” She noticed the newest addition to my collection resting on the desk.
“One of the representatives at the store called me when they got in. I’ll give you her number,” I offered
“Please and thank you.” She slid her chair toward the printer and waited for my receipt. We always found something to chat about when I came.
I scribbled the store rep’s name and number on the back, handed it back to her, and then walked across the room to sit beside Tim.
He was casually scrolling on his phone. When he scrolled past a Wells Fargo bank ad, I had a sudden realization.
“Oh! Baby, did you get that invitation for the event at the new bank?”
He met my eyes slowly.
“What invitation?”
“I received an email from Mercedes saying that they were having a networking community event and were inviting different businesses to come and set up tables. Luxe received an invitation. I thought you were copied on it.”
“Nah, baby, I didn’t get an email. When is the event?”
“Next weekend, actually. It completely slipped my mind to ask what you thought. We don’t have any cute displays. We’d have to put Natalie to work ASAP if you want to go,” I offered.
“We’re not going. Our schedules are busy enough without adding something else to do on the weekends. If you want Luxe Motors to have a display, we can send Natalie and one of the guys.”
I didn’t argue.
“Thompson,” Shareese called out. We rose to our feet and went toward the door so we could go back to see Quentin.
Every time I had to step within 100 feet of that man, sadly, my heart and my pussy palpitated. Even with my husband’s hand resting reassuringly on the small of my back, it did nothing to calm my breathing. It had nothing to do with our marriage, our current circumstances, or the topics we were about to discuss. But had everything to do with not wanting to face the man whommy mind couldn’t get rid of. Tim held the door for me as Quentin stood to greet us.
“Hello, Dr. Long, nice to see you again,” I said, shaking his hand as if we were just patient and client.
“Hello, Mrs. Thompson.” He barely made eye contact, but the way his thumb brushed the back of my hand as he shook it told a different story. I almost wanted to laugh and snatch it. But I kept my composure.
“Mr. Thompson. How’s it going?” He shook Tim’s hand as well, and we took a seat on the couch.
“Good. What’s up, doc?” Tim said, sitting on the couch and throwing his arm around the back of it, so I could get cozy against his body.
“What brings you guys by today? It’s been about a month since your last session. Catch me up.” He asked calmly as he brought out that damn pen and pad again. The same one that recorded all my innermost thoughts and freakiest desires. Then he used them to his advantage and now has my body reacting without him even touching me.
“We were supposed to come back that next week but couldn’t find the time. We’re still at a standstill with the direction that we want to go in. It’s been almost a year since the solo experiences. Breeze is still on the fence about it. She doesn’t want it to end our marriage, but I don’t think it will.”
“Mrs. Thompson?” He waited for me to elaborate.
