Page 37 of Session 25

“I hear you, but your face tells a different story.”

Rae got up from her seat, touching my shoulder before sitting me back in the chair. I could already feel where this conversation was going, and I wanted no parts, but somehow, Rae pushed down on my thigh, preventing me from getting up.

“What Rae?”

“Stop acting up, damn. Why are you so damn defensive?” She questioned. I expected her to look puzzled, but she wasn’t. Her facial expression remained calm. “Do you really think I judge you? Huh? Because if that’s the case, then maybe you need a new therapist. I am a Black woman just like you, and although we may have different circumstances in life, I get you, Koi,” she told me. “I understand you more than you think.”

“How?” I pushed back. “How the hell do you get me? My life is in shambles right now, and you sitting here trying to help me pull it together, so stop the we are the same bullshit.”

“Both things can be true. I too am in therapy. Shit. You think I hear all y’all problems and go home and sleep comfortable? No. I don’t. Plus, I have my own demons that need to be handled.” I folded my arms over my chest.

With a little over fifteen minutes left, I decided to drop my guard. Something about Rae relaxed me, and the more I fought it, the more I started to act like it. She wasn’t a bad therapist, but she was unveiling emotions and secrets that I wanted to keep to myself, but any time I walked into her office, I found myself spilling my guts.

By now we had been seeing each other for nine weeks, and she had made me relive some trauma that was too hard to talk about unless I was drinking. That’s how it always was. Complex and to myself, I put up a wall that no one has been able to break down. That was until I met her. She was peeling back the layers that made me, me.

“I’m not gonna unpack too much this session, but the next one will make number ten. That’s a new record for you. Since you like to leave your therapist or they leave you, yet here we are, thugging it out.” Her timer went off just as I opened my mouth to speak. “End of session. Good. What’s up?”

“She’s up, and I know when I go home tonight it’s going to hit me. This girl took my man from me.” I spoke freely as I swiped away at a lone tear.

“Was he even your man if she could get close to him?”

“Hmm.” She clasped her hands together. “I will see you next week.” I grabbed my purse and phone, leaving the office with a heavy heart.

Once in the car, I broke down. Fifteen years I had given to this nigga who not only fucked bitches, but he brought home a child with my cousin. I thought I had lived through betrayal until I learned the truth. I could never look at either one the same. For nine months, they played in my face, and while Marcel used the “I didn’t know it was mine,” line. The facts were there. He had fucked her, simple.

My family used to look at me as the strong one, and now I was probably the butt of their jokes in the group chat. The tables had turned, and Belinda and her fifty eleven kids were no longer the center of drama; I was the drama.

The tears fell freely as I screamed out. Not caring if people heard me unleash the hurt. I continued to cry until the tap came to my window, startling me.

I locked eyes with Rae’s receptionist. She motioned for me to roll down my window. I didn’t budge, shaking my head no. She shrugged, raised her brow before walking off. Right now, I didn’t want a listening ear; I needed to be left the fuck alone.

Minutes passed, and I was still sitting in the same spot, lips trembling as I tried to keep the tears at bay. When I failed, I reached for the bottled water and took a huge gulp. The feeling of my heart breaking was something I couldn’t describe, but it ached down in my stomach, tightening my chest.

A text on my phone caused me to shift my focus to the device. Marcel’s name popped up across the screen. I sucked my teeth, groaning. Apparently, he wasn’t trying to bow out gracefully. He had done the damage, and yet still he was harassing me every chance he got. You would think his stupid ass would be checking for his trifling baby mama, but no. He was texting me bullshit.

Marcel: Yo. Wyd? I need to talk to you, and before I blow down your phone, I need you to call me.

There was nothing left for us to talk about. He had taken that privilege away when he stuck his dick in my cousin. But instead of standing my ground, I tapped on his name. He didn’t even let the phone ring fully before he answered.

“You went to the property manager about the condo? Don’t you think this is going a little too far? Like what the fuck? Just fuck us and our history?”

He had the audacity to try and shift the blame on me. Either Marcel was drunk, or he was delirious, but he needed to get out of my ear talking bullshit.

“Marcel, goodbye. You are not about to call me on stupid shit for real. I told you I was done, I’m out, it’s over. Move the fuck on!”

“Cut the shit. We are good. It’s a bump in the road, but we can get through this, ma.” He sounded like a bitch whining in my ear. “You mean to tell me you’re done? All the years we put in?”

“Done!” I yelled into the phone, annoyed. “Get off my line and go on and help me sell the condo.”

“Where will you live? Back in Patterson? I doubt you wanna go backwards.”

“Marcel, I'd go in the shelter before I live with you, let alone sleep in the same bed as you?” I scoffed. “You better hope your ass don’t get worms coming outta your dick after fucking with her ass.”

“So what? You trying to put a root on me?”

“Nigga you are not worth me going to the lady for.” I ended the call, started up the car, and drove straight to my hotel in silence. A long shower and a hot meal were the only things that were on my mind.

I got to my hotel within thirty minutes. Exhausted, I kicked off my shoes at the door, peeled off my dress, tossed it on the chair, and sighed. I stood in silence, just enjoying the peace, when my phone went off. Annoyed, I wanted to fling it across the room when I saw it was a text from Rae. Shocked, I swiped up to open it.