Page 108 of Anyone But You
“From the disdain in your tone, I’d guess not,” Dr. Matthews replied.
“I did not. I’d been applying for marketing jobs left and right, but the employment ad for Ramsey Acquisitions Group kept popping up everywhere I turned—the newspaper, numerous online job boards, LinkedIn—you name it. Eventually, I stopped fighting it and applied. From there, I was stranded on an island. I fell in love. Knox was bitten, and we were rescued in the nick of time. We returned home, and now my mother is about to check out. My entire reason for working for Knox was to care for my mother. I feel like a chess piece on a board, and someone is moving the pieces.”
“Hm. I see. I admire the analogy you used. Are you spiritual, Victoria?”
She smirked.
“I am, but in that cliche, you’ve hit rock bottom kind of way, and you need hope.”
“So, you found spirituality on the island?”
“Yes.”
“Did it serve its purpose? Did you have hope you’d be rescued?”
“At first, but I stopped hoping to be rescued at some point and started searching for peace and acceptance instead.”
“Tell me more about that.”
“There’s not much to tell. I felt content. I had shelter, water, food, good loving, and entertainment. The way I see it, if I wasn’t supposed to make it, then I should’ve died in the crash.”
I nodded, agreeing with her statement.
“I feel that I’m clinging to my mother-in-law because my mother will pass away soon. I wish I had more time with her, and I feel she was taken away from me too soon.”
“I see. You mentioned making arrangements?”
Victoria dabbed at her eyes again.
“Everything is taken care of—plot, casket, flowers, repast, and eulogy.”
“And how have you been coping with this?”
“As well as I can. I have a great support system.”
“That’s good to hear. How are you feeling mentally and emotionally? Any signs of depression or thoughts of harming yourself or others?”
“No.”
“Victoria, be honest,” I whispered.
“I am a little depressed, but I’m working on it,” she admitted.
“How are you working on it?” Dr. Matthews pushed.
“I have my morning devotion, work out, share my experience on social media, and volunteer. I think my depression would resolve if I had an emotional support animal.”
I sighed heavily.
“Victoria, for the last time, you don’t need an emotional support animal.”
“Emotional support animals have proven to ease anxiety, depression, and some phobias,” Dr. Matthews chimed in.
“I’m not denying any of that. She just wants a fucking dog. Go get the damn dog. You don’t have to put a label on it. Just say you want a dog.”
“Is this upsetting to you, Mr. Ramsey?” Dr. Matthews asked.
“He’s just a crotchety old man,” Victoria teased, tugging on my earlobe.
