Total pages in book: 163
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 164828 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 824(@200wpm)___ 659(@250wpm)___ 549(@300wpm)
He raises an eyebrow and gives me that ‘come fuck me’ look again.
I whisper, “Diabolical.”
He chuckles and I stand, leading him into the consultation room by his hand. “You have seven minutes to fuck me.”
He slams me up against the wall, and his lips drop to my neck. “I only need five.”
* * *
I struggle with the grocery bags as I let myself into Nathan’s apartment.
I wanted to come back and make a special dinner for us. I’ve missed cooking for him. It’s 2:00 p.m., and after my R-rated lunch date in the consultation room, I’m buzzing.
Everything just feels so different this time.
Like it’s meant to be.
I drop the shopping bags in the kitchen and put my favorite play list on.
I open the fridge and see a bottle of our favorite wine. It’s too early for wine.
Why not?
I smile broadly as I take it out, you know what? Fuck it. After the shitty six months I’ve just had, I’m letting myself just be for a while. If I want a glass of wine at 2pm….then damn it, I’m having it.
I pour myself a glass and smile as I take a sip. I can hardly wipe the goofy smile from my face. I’m not getting a head of myself or anything but this feels promising.
I make my marinade, and I baste the beef and wrap it before I put it into the fridge to cook later. I peel the apples and put them on the stove top to breakdown. I’m making Nathan’s favorite apple pie for dessert. Next, I’ll make the shortcrust pasty. I forgot how wonderful it is to cook for someone. The music plays through the apartment, and I smile to myself as I dance and chop. My mind goes over our little lunchtime rendezvous.
I go over the last few days and how me not falling into Nathan’s arms in New York worked out well. I have my own apartment and my independence now. I don’t feel pressured or insecure. I feel like me—like how I’m supposed to feel.
And him asking his new therapist to send me the transcripts is a big deal. Nathan has always been so secretive.
Actually, I wonder if she sent them. I dry my hands on a tea towel and grab my phone to check my emails.
Amanda Beynon Therapy Transcripts.
I click on the first one and hit play. I stand my phone up against the window sill so I can listen as I continue with my pastry.
I hear a rustling, and I turn up the volume on my phone as I concentrate to hear them.
“Hello, Nathan,” a female voice says. “I’m Amanda.”
I listen intently as I spread the flour over the counter, they must be shaking hands.
“Hi. Nathan Mercer.”
“Please take a seat. Lay it back until you’re comfortable.”
I smile as I visualize Nathan lying on her office chair.
“What brings you here today?” Amanda asks.
“Um.” He hesitates. “I’m… I’m not … doing so well.”
I frown and stop what I’m doing so I can concentrate. The hairs on the back of my neck stand to attention.
“Tell me about what’s going on,” she replies.
“I, … I had.” He stops.
My heart drops, he’s struggling to talk.
“Take your time,” Amanda says softly. She’s kind and caring, I can hear it in her voice.
“I just…” He pauses again. “I broke up with my girlfriend and I don’t seem to be able to move on.”
“Okay, I see. How long ago did this happen?”
“Six months.”
I frown. Wait. Is this from before we reconnected?
“Have you seen her since?” she asks.
“No.”
Oh shit, it is before we saw each other again.
“I see.” She listens for a moment. “And why did you end your relationship?”
“She left me.” He sighs sadly.
“Why was that?”
“She didn’t love me enough to stay.”
“What’s her name?”
“Eliza.”
“Did Eliza tell you that?” Amanda asks.
“Yes, and she moved to New York to get away from me.”
My heart drops.
“Were there any issues between you?”
“A million,” he replies, monotone, I close my eyes as I am transported back to the darkness.
“Tell me about Eliza,” Amanda says softly.
I hold my breath “She’s the most beautiful person I know. Selfless and sweet.”
“You sound very close.”
“She’s more myself than I am,” he replies softly.
My eyes fill with tears.
“What happened between you?” she asks.
“We were best friends for ten years and I was with other people. Men.”
“How do you identify your sexuality, Nathan?”
“Pansexual,” he replies without hesitation.
My eyebrows rise. Wow, he seems definite on that answer now.
Progress.
“But while we were friends, I fell in love with her.”
I smile softly.
“How long were you together?”
“Six weeks.”
“How long were you in love with her before that?”
“Ten years.
I sip my wine, fascinated by what I’m hearing.
“Although, I didn’t realize it for a long time.”
“And how did you finally come to that realization?”
“I couldn’t bring myself to have sex with anyone else. I only wanted to be with her.”