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“Nah, I need all my baby’s cushion,” Roselle stated.
Krista made a face that hadn’t gone unnoticed by Dr. Dangerfield or LaQuandra. LaQuandra had thought to call Krista out on it, but decided some things were better left unsaid—for now.
“Sooooo, Doctor,” Brenda said, lifting her flute from the table. “When does the ‘journey’ begin?”
Dr. Dangerfield took a sip of her black tea, then set her cup back on its saucer. “Oh, the journey has already begun. The moment you opened your eyes this morning, the clock started. From this point forward, everything you do, everything you say, will be defining moments. And I promise you”—she swept her eyes around the table at the couples—“by the time this is all over, your relationships will feel very different. You will look at your partners through a new set of eyes, with a new set of expectations—or not. And none of you will ever be the same again.”
Dr. Dangerfield stood to her feet. “Today, go out and explore some of the wonders of the island. If you’d like a tour guide, that can be arranged for you; but for the daring—the many trails on the island have colored markers that will guide you, should you wish to ven
ture out on your own.” Her gaze landed on the men. “Gentlemen, I will see the three of you at two p.m. in Passion Hall.”
Passion Hall was where most of Dr. Dangerfield’s therapy sessions were held. It was where truths and dirty secrets were told and sordid confessions were made.
“Oh, before I forget,” Dr. Dangerfield said, before leaving the table. “Later tonight, you are expected in The Garden for game night.”
A sly smile slid over her lips, and then she was gone, leaving the hint of seduction lingering in the light morning breeze.
Ten
Infidelity . . .
It was the breaking of a promise, or uttered agreement between lovers, to remain faithful—in what one person viewed as a mutually monogamous sexual relationship.
Cheating.
It was all around us. It permeated the universe like a plague. It destroyed relationships. Broke hearts. Weakened trust. It crushed hopes. Shattered dreams. Created bitterness. And caused resentments to fester. It hurt people. Ripped the fabric of a relationship apart.
Oh, yes, infidelity was an insidious threat that could crack the foundation of even some of the most stable relationships. And yet people cheated. And people still stayed. Still believed. Still hoped. Still held on.
And they only saw what they wanted to see, like the Lewises and the Evanses and the Woodses. These three couples were affected by it, infidelity, in some form. Be it emotionally or physically, someone (or perhaps both) had crossed the line at some time or another—whether they knew it or not.
Still, Dr. Dangerfield believed that there was hope for couples to reconcile, to reconnect, to rebuild, and recreate a stronger union. With work, with transparency, and with honesty, there was always hope.
Always.
But, first, couples had to want the same relationship goals before the healing and repairing could begin. She knew what had been written on paper. But things always looked good on paper—or sometimes worse.
Face-to-face was always better. Things began to always look different when you stared into the window of someone’s soul. The eyes never lied, even when the lies clung to their tongues. So Dr. Dangerfield had decided to engage the men today—first, to assess their level of commitment to their marriages; and, second, to gauge at what level of transparency they were willing to give. Afterward, she’d see the women and determine how honest they could be in their personal assessments of their marriages. Men were less likely to express themselves openly, especially in a room with other men. Men simply weren’t expressive. Counseling of any form went against everything men were taught as boys about masculinity, about being strong, about not ever showing emotion.
Consequently, she didn’t have any high expectations that the men would be completely honest today. Most times they weren’t. Not at first. A man expressing his deepest fears, his darkest desires, or his insecurities went against his socialization.
Dr. Dangerfield enjoyed the challenge, however. She enjoyed the cat-and-mouse game they played. And the fun in it all was trying to crack open their shells, just to see how big the nut was inside.
Subconsciously, she licked over her lips.
“Have any of you ever cheated on your wives?”
Crickets.
Isaiah folded his arms and pulled at his chin hairs, doing his own assessment of the doctor. Five seven without her heels on—almost six feet with ’em on; smooth, flawless skin; she weighed about a buck thirty-five, shapely in all the right places. Real sophisticated.
He took in the two-carat diamonds in her ears, then the five-carat tennis bracelet on her wrist, before his gaze traveled down her legs and landed on the soles of heels.
Red bottoms.
High-end pussy.
Probably a real live freak, he mused, not sure he wanted to flat-out admit that he was still fucking—on occasion—his son’s mother.
