“I’m Elijah,” Pretty Boy said, shaking her outstretched hand.
Elijah. Huh. He didn’t look like an Elijah. Or maybe he did. I hadn’t looked at him for very long. I wondered if people called him Eli. He definitely didn’t look like an Eli.
Dr. Franklin turned her gaze on me, and I realized I hadn’t said anything. “Hi, I’m Sutton.”
“Sutton, my little button,” Elijah said, wrapping his arm around my waist and pulling me against his side.
“It’s great to meet both of you,” Dr. Franklin said. “Follow me.”
When her back was turned, I peeled Elijah’s hand from my waist and mouthed, “No touching” to him.
He gave me a nod like he understood. I hoped he did becauseI wasn’t in the mood for some stranger’s paws on me for the next hour, no matter how much he probably thought his touch was a gift to women.
In the room, which had obviously been a bedroom in this office’s previous life, was a small desk, a small couch, and a chair. I wondered if she chose the size of her couch to force couples to sit close, because that was what we had to do when we both sat down. Our thighs and hips and shoulders touched. So much for needing some space.
She took the chair across from us and turned back the cover of her notebook. She reached over to the desk and plucked a pen from a jar sitting on the corner. “You’ve signed up for my premarital sessions,” she said, and wrote something at the top of a clean notebook page. I hoped it said something likeTwo people who look like they’ve only met once before in their entire lives. They seemed surprised to learn each other’s names.
“We did,” Elijah said. “Thought we needed to start this thing off on the right foot. Get the important tools needed for success.”
“Thisthing?” I asked.
He smiled at me. “Our endless future, dear.”
Dr. Franklin nodded. “And you agree, Sutton? That’s your goal here as well? To start your marriage on the right foot?”
“Sure,” I said.
“These sessions are a little different from my normal sessions. They’re designed to work on communication and connection.” She paused and her eyes were on me when she said, “What’s going on? You seem tense.”
A bubble of hope rose in my chest. She was observant. This was a good sign.
“She’s always tense,” Elijah said.
“I’m not,” I said, because that wasn’t true.
“Well, as long as I’ve known her. She needs to learn to relax. Let things go.”
“Do you have a hard time letting things go?” Dr. Franklin asked. “Relaxing?”
“I can relax in the right circumstances,” I said. “But my life is hectic right now.”
“With wedding planning?” she asked.
I took a breath. “Right. Yes.”
“And how is that going?” she asked Elijah.
He raised his hands. “I can’t help. She likes to do most things on her own. Just this morning, I said, ‘Babe, let me help you pick out some flowers. You shouldn’t have to do everything.’ And she said, ‘No, I have a vision and you don’t live in my head.’”
I could feel the frown on my face, all my muscles pulled downward.
“Is that not how it happened?” Dr. Franklin asked me.
“Not at all.” Because it didn’t actually happen. “But he thinks he can just swing in last minute and give an opinion about flowers? Those have been planned forever. His last-minute opinions are more stressful than if he’d been helping out all along.”
“She never asks for help,” Elijah said.
My head swung in his direction and our eyes locked. I hoped mine said,Cut the bullshit and stop making things up.
