Page 84 of Unhinged

“Sure.”

When I enter her office, Dr. Abramson’s hot-as-fuck son sits in front of her desk, and he grins. “Hey there, Miss Garrison.”

I swallow and glance at his mother, who is smiling. “Hi. What are you doing here?”

His frown is fake and overdramatic. “Visiting my mother. Jeez.”

Dr. Abramson says, “Now, Greg. You said you had news for me and wanted Simone to hear it too.” Oh, no.

Greg pats the chair next to him. “Shut the door and have a seat.”

Cautiously, I close the door and go over as they watch me. I smooth out my tweed skirt before sitting and then toy with the buttons of my hot-pink blouse. I’m not sure what to say, so I don’t.

Greg watches me for longer than necessary until he clears his throat and turns to his mother. “I got married.”

Dr. Abramson laughs, folding her hands on top of her desk. “You have my attention. What’s the news?”

He repeats, “I. Got. Married.”

She laughs again, but when Greg doesn’t, she sobers. “You what?”

Sitting back, Greg shrugs. “You know. Got a license. Exchanged vows. Kissed the bride. Rode a wedding night.” His smirk is sexy and infuriating.

“I didn’t know you were dating anyone! Greg! No. What’s her name? Or his…”

“Grow horns.”

“I didn’t mean it facetiously. I just… I didn’t know you were with someone!” She slams her flattened hands onto her desk. “Who, Gregory?”

He giggles and turns his head toward me slowly, and my heart stops. He asks, “You wanna tell her?”

“Um…”

“Simone? You?” she gasps, and I’m speechless. Totally rendered mute. “But… But…why?” She first looks at me, and when I don’t answer, she turns to her son.

Greg throws out his hand. “Seriously?”

“Yes, seriously! Last week you two fought like cats and dogs! You were livid Simone existed. Now, you tell me you got married because… So, yes. Why?”

Greg shifts in his chair and reaches for my hand. As he slides our fingers together, he says, “Because I realized what I was missing in my life. It was Simone Garrison—now Rodwell.”

“Oh, my God,” she mumbles, studying his face before putting her hands over hers. “You’re not joking.”

“No.” He squeezes my hand.

She turns to me. “Do you have anything to say, Simone? It’s hard to believe you fell in love with Greg so fast.”

“Uh…” I’m dating her receptionist but just married her son. This is great. He squeezes harder, silently asking me to play along. Gravy boats on fire. “I did.”

When she looks back at Greg, his voice drops. “It’s easy to fall for Simone.”

Dr. Abramson sits frozen in front of us. I don’t blame her. “You’re not wearing rings.”

Greg clears his throat. “So?”

She glances at my stomach, and I blurt, “I’m not pregnant. And I won’t be right now. I’m on the pill, and he uses a…” Dr. Abramson’s eyes are the size of Amos’s tires. Why in the fuck did I say that? I’m literally that stupid kid rambling to my boyfriend’s mother. Except, he’s not my boyfriend. Holy hell on sale. Greg squeezes my hand until it hurts. Still, me, pregnant with Greg Rodwell’s kid someday? I don’t hate that.

I really don’t.

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