Page 31 of Bonus Daddy
“I go to the gym to take care of my body,” I explained. “Why not go to therapy and take care of my mind?”
“Oh, look at who’s drinking the self-improvement Kool-Aid.” Lo rubbed her hands together, her green eyes dancing. “This is an excellent development.”
“Eh,” Cal said, crossing his ankles and leaning against the doorframe. “I think it’s because he fancies a certain blond client.”
I glared at him. “I’m a forty-two-year-old single guy who lives with you two idiots, your wonderful women, and three children—two of whom I think I might relate to better than anyone else in my life at the moment—I’ve got a lot of improvements to make.”
“Amen.” He dipped his chin. “Go get fixed.”
“Fuck off,” I said, pushing past him. I strode through the office, ignoring Amy, the moronic intern Cal brought in to help, as she called my name and waved like a maniac from the conference room, grumbling about the complete lack of privacy in my life.
But as I stepped out into the sunshine, a smile broke free. Our little Jersey family was loud, disruptive, and ridiculous, but thesepeople had become my family. Sully and Cal had been like brothers for decades, and Sloane and I had been friends since before she and Sully got together. Lo? She and I had worked well together from the moment Terry had hired her, and we’d developed a friendship too. But living together the way we’d all been doing for the last several months had forced us all to grow and evolve.
Until now, my changes had been the least drastic, but it was finally my turn. In Manhattan, my life had been so structured and organized that I’d never gotten a chance to really take stock. Now, I was seeing the world through a new set of eyes, experiencing life with a newfound appreciation.
This living situation had definitely been a jolt to my nervous system.
It woke me up and made me realize that many aspects of my life were lacking. It made me wonder if I’d been wrong when I’d settled for just being that guy. The lawyer in the expensive suit. The man who had such a sad, empty life that he spent hours walking his damn cat around Jersey City.
Now that the seed had been planted, it was time to do something about it. So off to Doctor Johnson I’d go.
He was in his seventies and saw patients in the office inside his large brownstone in Hoboken, which was probably worth a small fortune. And had a pipe.
“Don’t worry. I don’t smoke anymore,” he said, ushering me into a room stuffed with leather chairs and wall-to-wall books.
“Gave it up a decade ago. That shit will kill you. But never got out of the habit of holding it between my teeth.”
As I settled into a leather armchair, I couldn’t help but think this situation felt strange but also right.
Once he was settled as well, Dr. Johnson bit his pipe and looked me up and down.
“So, Brian, what’s her name?”
I frowned and leaned forward, the cushion creaking beneath me. “Come again?”
“The woman who knocked you on your ass and motivated you to finally come to therapy.” He arched a brow. “You’re nowhere near my first forty-something overachiever, never-been-married kind of patient. So let’s just put the cards on the table now. What’s her name?”
Embarrassed about being called out so easily, I shrank back.
But I was here to grow, dammit, and I’d do my best. So I straightened again and said, “Her name is Jess.”
There wasnothing more sobering than being picked apart by a person I’d never met, then having all my deeply held bullshit unwrapped and presented to me on a silver platter.
And that’s precisely what Dr. Johnson had done.
Asshole.
That man had cut me open and made me bleed. And I’d paid him for the privilege.
And I’d be back next week to do it all over again.
But I couldn’t deny how much lighter I felt as I walked back to the office. Already, I was certain I’d taken a small step in the right direction.
And after years of bottling up my emotions and working until exhaustion, this was a novel feeling. At Dr. Johnson’s instruction, I was not allowed to check my phone until I got back to the office.
My mission was to experience the world around me.
What a strange sensation. It wasn’t a tranquil country stroll, but walking down the streets of Jersey City without distraction was eye-opening.
