Page 20 of Suddenly Single

“Yes, I am.” Mom shook her fist. “He’s made his love for you perfectly clear, and all you’re doing is throwing it away. I hate them, but the Yates family are powerful, and they love you. Like… like, I can’t even wrap my head around…”

“Then don’t.” I stalked back toward my office with Mom on my heels. When I got to the door, I turned and faced her. “Mother, I want to get on with my life. Asher knew I didn’t want him here, and…”

“He had no other choice except to come to you. Jesus, Carter. I raised you to be a smart and resourceful man, but you’re acting stupid. And that man who asked you out? I’ve seen him at various Yates family functions. Why on earth would you agree to go out with him? You’re not only pissing off Asher, but you’ll alienate the rest of his family, too.” Mom’s shoulders sagged. “Honey, I can’t tell you what to do, but maybe you should go talk to your therapist about this. Obviously you aren’t listening to me. Perhaps she could help.”

Belinda Therapista’s office was three blocks away on Auburn Avenue. We didn’t have regular therapy sessions, but she always squeezed me in whenever I called. We’d worked out a deal where I got free sessions in exchange for my design services. So far, I’d created a home office and expanded a closet for her.

Her real name was Dr. Belinda Johnson, and she was a child psychologist. We’d met at a party a few years ago, and despite her working with children, we clicked. She also bore a striking resemblance to the most fabulous supermodel of all time, Linda Evangelista. She was gorgeous, had a chic wardrobe, and most of the country club set sent their kids to her.

I’d been sitting in the waiting room for twenty long minutes. Normally I didn’t feel nervous with her, but today was different. My throat felt tight, my mouth was dry, and I’d swear I was on the verge of a heart attack.

“Dr. Johnson will see you now.” The motherly receptionist smiled and gestured toward Belinda’s office door. My legs shook as I stood up, then I took a deep breath and walked into her office.

“Hello, Carter,” she waved her manicured fingers toward the wingback leather chair in front of her desk. It was an antique I’d found at an estate sale and given to her as a gift. I settled in, then gazed at her. She tapped her nails on the desk a few times, then flashed that glittery white smile at me. If I were into women, she’d be at the top of my list. “So, how are things?”

I sighed, opened my mouth, and nothing came out.

“Oh.” Therapista pursed her lips, then opened one of her desk drawers. “I think you need to talk to our old friend, Cracker.” A moment later, the familiar face of her hand puppet slid onto her fingers and faced me. Damn it, I felt stupid talking to the puppet, but it really did work. Something about the bright red yarn on its head, and the purple and orange striped shirt made me open up in ways nothing else could. Perhaps it was the sing-song voice Therapista used for it? “Hi, Carter!”

I cleared my throat. “Hello, Cracker.”

“Now, I want you to take five deep breaths and clear your mind.” The puppet squeaked. This was a technique Therapista had taught me to focus. I was supposed to do this every day, but rarely remembered. I placed my hands on my lap, shut my eyes, and began taking deep breaths. Like always, it worked, and I felt my shoulders relax.

“Very good, Carter. The last time you were here, you were having problems with Asher.”

“Yes. Cracker, I love Asher. I really, really do. But he told me he wished he’d never married me, so I left him.” I swiped at my cheeks, and Therapista pushed a box of tissues across the desk with her free hand.

“You know it’s okay to cry, don’t you?” Cracker asked, and I snatched a tissue out of the box and mopped up my face. “This is a safe space for when you’re going through bad stuff.”

“Well, it’s even worse than I imagined.” My voice broke. I gripped my thighs and began taking deep breaths again. Finally, I blurted out, “The state of Colorado made a mistake, and it turns out Asher and I are not legally married.”

Cracker gasped.

“So I left him. He’d already said he didn’t want to be married, so his wish came true.” I grabbed another tissue.

Cracker’s red yarn hair seemed to stand up straighter. “Didn’t you say you really, really love him?”

“Uh, huh.” A sob tore through me.

“How do you feel about living on your own? Away from the man you love?”

“I ha-ha-hate it.” The dam burst, and tears streamed from my eyes. “I want him back, but every time I see him, this red fiery ball of anger twists in my stomach.” My eyes shut, and I began breathing deeply, hoping to calm the tears. “He doesn’t love me the way I want him to love me.” I hiccuped on the last word.

“Emily, bring Carter a bottle of Perrier, please.” I heard Belinda say in her normal voice. A moment later, the receptionist walked in, placed the bottle on the desk in front of me and left.

“A long drink of water will make you feel better. Like a liquid hug!” Cracker said, so I opened my eyes and took the bottle from her desk. “Often we get cranky when we’re dehydrated.”

I put the bottle down and felt calm again. Therapista and Cracker always chilled me out when I felt like life was spinning out of control. “More than anything, I’d like to work things out with Asher. He even said he’d marry me again in a big ceremony at the country club. But I did something stupid.”

“There’s nothing stupid when you’re hurting. Sometimes we lash out because we feel like our life is out of control. Your feelings are valid, little Carter.” Cracker tilted on Therapista’s hand, and his black and white wobbly eyes spun for a second. “So, what did you do that you feel is stupid?”

“It was totally unexpected.” I still couldn’t believe it. “Asher’s best friend Cort came to the shop and asked me out on a date. I’ve never thought about him romantically. In fact, he’s not my type at all. He reeks of…”

“Do you mean Cort Tyler?” Cracker asked. I nodded, and the puppet did a double take. “The Tylers are a really big deal.”

“Yes, but that doesn’t matter to me. What matters is that I feel nothing for him. He was always just this guy Asher worked and played tennis with. But, when he invited me to dinner, I said yes because I thought I needed to get on with my life. Asher found out, and, oh my God, we had a fight in front of my shop, right on Cary Street.”

“Aww, poor Carter. Fighting is hard on the heart. You know, if you don’t want to go on a date with Cort, you don’t have to.”

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