I stopped. The woman standing in front of me was Janelle. My therapist. In Nordstrom. Fifteen feet from the bathroom I’d just walked out of with wobbly legs and a flushed face.
“Hey…” Janelle said. Her expression was polite but guarded.
“Janelle! Hey, I?—”
“I’m sorry.” She held up her hand gently and took a small step back. “I should let you know that as your therapist, it’s standard practice that we don’t acknowledge each other in public settings. It’s to protect your privacy. If someone saw us speaking and asked how we knew each other, it could compromise the confidentiality of our therapeutic relationship.”
“Oh.” I blinked. “I didn’t know that.”
“It’s okay. Most clients don’t until it comes up. It’s not personal at all. I just want to make sure you feel safe knowing that your privacy is always my priority, even outside the office.” She smiled warmly. “I’ll see you at our next session.”
She walked past me toward the escalator and disappeared into the crowd of shoppers like she was just another woman at the mall on a Saturday.
I stood there for a second feeling oddly dismissed but also understanding why. It made sense. If someone I knew saw me chatting with a woman and later found out she was my therapist, they’d know I was in therapy. And if they dug deeper, they’d know what kind of therapy. And from there the dominoes could fall in directions I didn’t want them to go.
I pulled out my phone and Googled “can therapists talk to you in public” while I walked toward the shoe section. The first three results all said the same thing—most therapists follow a policy of not initiating contact with clients outside of sessions to protect confidentiality. Some will acknowledge a client if the client approaches first, but many prefer to let the client take the lead.
Janelle was being professional. That’s all.
I put my phone away and went to look at shoes. By the time Quest found me ten minutes later, I had three pairs of heels in my hand and legs that had finally stopped shaking.
“You find something?” he asked, looking at the shoes.
“Maybe. I still need the dress though.”
“We’ll find it.” He looked at me with that half-smile. “You look flushed.”
“Shut up.”
“Just making an observation.”
We spent the next hour shopping like a normal couple and I tried not to think about the fact that nothing about us was normal and that was exactly why it worked.
32
MEHAR
I listened as Zainab ran down a list of instructions to Prime as if those kids weren’t his too. As if he hadn’t been changing diapers and warming bottles and getting up at 3 AM with the twins since the day they were born. But that was Zainab, she loved hard and worried harder, and leaving Idris and Kheris for a few hours felt like leaving the country.
“Their bottles are in the fridge, second shelf. Kheris likes hers warmer than Idris so run it under hot water for an extra thirty seconds. If Idris gets fussy, it’s gas. Hold him upright and pat his back, don’t bounce him. And don’t let them nap past four or they won’t sleep tonight. And…”
“Goddess.” Prime put both hands on her shoulders and looked at her with that calm that only he could pull off when Zainab was spiraling. “I got this. Go have fun with your fam.”
He kissed her on the forehead and she melted into it the way she always did when Prime touched her. These two had been through war together, literal, actual war, and come out the other side with a love that was so solid it made me believe the universe wasn’t completely rigged against people who deserved good things.
“Call me if anything…”
“Go, Zainab.”
She kissed both twins one more time, then grabbed her purse and we headed out. I decided to drive because I wanted to swing past her house and see my nephew and niece.
The ride was nice. Windows down, music low, one of those afternoons where the air smelled like spring was about to turn into summer and the city felt alive in a way that made you want to be part of it instead of hiding from it.
“I’m so happy right now,” Zainab said, looking out the window with a smile that had been beaming for the last few months. ”Like genuinely happy. The bakery is doing well. The twins are healthy. Prime is—I mean, that man drives me crazy but he’s the best thing that ever happened to me.” She turned to look at me. “Things are finally calm. After everything we went through, I feel like I can breathe.”
“You deserve it, sis. More than anyone.”
“So do you.” She gave me that look she gives when she’s about to say something I don’t want to hear. “You deserve happiness too, Mehar. You know that, right?”
