Page 34 of The Plus One
Indira poked her fingers into a spot at Jude’s side that she knew was particularly ticklish—she’d exploited it constantly when they were kids—and was happy with the tiny squeal he let out.
Collin pushed away from the table and took his bowl to the sink. “I for one can’t wait to watch this awkward shit show unfold. Thank you for the early wedding present.”
“Does this mean I don’t have to get you something from your registry?” Jude asked.
“Absolutely not.”
“Don’t worry, sugarplum,” Indira said, scrunching her nose up as she smiled at Jude. “Since we’re a hopelessly devoted couple, we can get them a joint gift.”
Jude and Collin both grimaced.
“Wow, it only took five minutes for this to be unbearable,” Jeremy said with a smile, following Collin’s lead and cleaning up his plate.
“Aww, don’t be jealous, Jeremy. I can give you sweet nicknames too! How’s pooky sound?”
“I’ve never been more excited for work,” Jeremy said, Collin nodding in agreement. They both had elected to take extra-long Saturday shifts at the hospital in preparation for their honeymoon. The pair left the kitchen with equally disgusted looks.
Indira and Jude smiled at each other, their gazes locking for a beat too long. Too intimately. Jude cleared his throat, looking away, and Indira’s heart sank down to the floorboards. They sat in silence for a few minutes, Indira alternately sneaking shy glances at him and sipping her coffee.
“What do we do now?” Jude asked, squinting up at the ceiling.
Indira blew out a raspberry. “Well, my sweet blossom, we probably need to figure out a way to be less fucking awkward around each other.”
“I imagine ending this little nickname thing here and now would help with that.”
“Not on your life, booger.”
That won her a quick glance and a reluctant smile, soft and sweet.
“I actually should do a little work today,” Indira said. “Review some case files for the week.” As a psychiatrist, Indira did her best to be holistic for the kids she treated, engaging in psychotherapy but also incorporating pharmaceutical interventions and monitoring their effectiveness.
“How’s work going?” Jude asked.
An unstoppable smile broke across her lips. “Amazing,” she said, reverence in her voice. “It’s challenging sometimes. And emotional. Idon’t ever think I’ll get that tough doctor skin of clinical detachment, but I can’t think of a job more fulfilling.”
The outpatient center she worked at partnered with the hospital’s inpatient unit so children could continue receiving intensive care once released. She often saw kids in some of the worst mental places of their lives, and she had the humbling privilege of treating them.
“Isn’t it…” Jude swallowed, playing with the tines of his fork.
“Isn’t it what?” Indira tapped him on the shin with her toes.
“I, uh…” Jude cleared his throat, tugging at his collar. “I don’t know why the whole concept of it makes me nervous,” he said at last. “Therapy, I mean. It seems so weird. I don’t know how you do it.”
Indira let out a small laugh. “I mean, therapyisweird.”
Jude looked at her like she’d just divulged definitive proof that aliens existed.
“Think about it,” she continued, shrugging. “You sit down and unpack all of your deepest feelings. You share the rawest truths of who you are to another person. One you don’t even know. Of course that makes you nervous. I think it makes lots of people nervous. It’s a nerve-racking thing.”
“Oh, do go on,” Jude said, waving his hand. “You’re really selling it. They should have you do infomercials.”
Indira laughed again. “But that’s also what makes itamazing. You show up for an hour, maybe two, and you have no other responsibility in the world than to focus on yourself. Your feelings. Your thoughts. It’s dedicated time to find yourself fully and deeply, with another person there to help when needed. Therapy is scary because it requires you to be brave. It’s one of the most radical forms of self-love.”
Jude stared down at the table, his jaw tense as he pressed the pad of his thumb against the fork’s points.
“Are you… considering therapy?” Indira whispered, leaning toward him. “Because, if so, I have tons of recommendations for incredible psychiatrists and psychologists. I could reach out, see if they’re—”
“Indira, stop.”
