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“Sit down so we can talk,” I said.
My first words to him in how many years?
“Is this a joke?” Joe asked. “You’re my shrink?”
“Shrink?” I asked. “You really have to use that word right now?”
Joe scoffed. “I feel like I’m on some trashy talk show. I’m forced to talk to someone and some sleazeball host brings out an old flame. This is bullshit.”
“Old flame, huh?”
“Yeah. I said what I said, Anna.”
My name coming out of his mouth sent shockwaves through my body.
My knees began to buckle so I quickly sat down.
Not wanting to give away any hints that his voice still did things to me.
Oh, I can’t wait to dive into that messy mind of yours, Joe.
I placed my bag next to me and brought out a yellow notepad and a pen.
I then just stared at Joe.
He stared back at me.
“This isn’t a joke?”
“This is not a joke,” I said. “I received word that I would be helping you. I have a job to do here.”
“Yeah. Stand up and leave. I’ll get someone else to do this.”
“You won’t even let me talk for a second, will you?” I asked.
I began to write on the notepad.
All I wrote was the date, the day of the week, and the time.
“What are you writing down?” Joe barked. “You have to tell me what you’re writing. I have the right to know!”
“That’s not how this works, Joe. It’s my job to take notes and make assessments.”
“Assessments? Have youassessedhow it’s even possible for you and me to be talking in this capacity? You’re my… my…”
His jaw tightened.
He looked away.
“I’m your…what?”
“You’re my ex,” he whispered through gritted teeth.
He then grabbed a chair, picked it up and slammed it down, then plopped down.
I felt like the entire building started to shake.
I wrote on the notepad again.
