Page 18 of Rather: The Therapist

“Sorry?”

“Broken hearts are no fun.”

“They aren’t.”

“Fresh out of a relationship?”

“No,” I replied, shaking my head.

“No?”

I continued shaking it from one side to the other, “Complicated.”

“Hmmm.”

“You?”

“Entertainment.”

“That’s it?”

“No. Not exactly.”

“Then, what else?”

She stared at me, hesitating to answer.

“I asked a question.”

“A freshly lasered pussy, a thudding in my center that won’t go away, and the need to escape reality.”

Impressed with her ability to express herself without sugarcoating anything, I sat back in my chair.

“Is reality that fucking bad?”

We both need to escape?

“Is that the only part you caught?”

There was that sniggering, again.

“Because I mentioned my freshly lasered pussy and that thudding us women get when–”

“I’ll address that, my dear. That’s why I’m here. In the meantime, your reality.”

“It doesn’t matter.”

“How bad is it?”

“It’s not bad. Not at all. But, sometimes… a girl just needs a break… some relief.”

“Understood.”

She bowed her head and stretched her arm across the table, grabbing ahold of mine. We joined hands. All the ruckus in my head quieted as she began to speak.

“Dear God, thank you for this life. Thank you for good health, good people, good family, and good food. Please continue to bless us in our daily lives. Continue to lift us and love us. Fix whatever has been broken in the man before me. Guide us. Protect us. Never leave us. In your darling son Jesus' name, Amen.”

“Ame–”

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