On The Couch [Editing]

Chapter Two

I took a seat in the waiting room and haughtily flipped through the same magazine I had dropped before the receptionist called me back a few moments ago. I glanced up at Dr. Jacobs, he was watching me. When I didn’t move, he walked back down the hall and around into reception to speak with the receptionist.

The hard part was keeping my eyes off him. Every part of the man moved with a masculinity that made me feel like the heater had been cranked up. I shook my head, he is a therapist, and I shouldn’t have those thoughts. I glanced over at the reception area again. His back was to me as he spoke on the phone. Good. I flipped a page of the magazine hoping Dr. Mayweather would fix this.

Why am I acting so overwhelmed and childish about this? Yes, I preferred a female therapist. I don’t think I ever said explicitly I couldn’t handle a male therapist. Was it in the court order she had gotten over nine months ago? I was so worked up about Jerry I don’t think it ever crossed my mind to specify.

I did have a difficult time being around men for a while. The therapy helped with that. I was stronger than I had thought. I worked on it for weeks which turned into months and after a while it began to go away and I returned to my normal self. The depression and nerves subsided and gradually my medication was lowered and eventually completely tapered off. I had forgotten all about that within a few minutes. So what is my problem with this ‘temporary’ male therapist?

“Ms. Winters?”

I shivered, that damn voice – full of depth and sensual promise but I couldn’t gauge anything about the man behind it. I put on an arrogant face and looked up. “Yes.”

“If you will come back to the office, I can explain what is going on,” he spoke calmly. The tone eased my tension a little. How in the hell?

“Fine.” I stood up again and stepped into the hall walking back to the office without looking at him. I could feel him following behind me. Hesitating, I took the chair at the desk instead of moving towards the couch. I would not get comfortable around him.

My hearing seemed to be acutely alert today. I heard the rustle of his pants as he moved and the click of the door as he shut it. Still, I refused to look at him until I absolutely had to. I listened to him walk around the desk and finally sit down. Now, I couldn't avoid his gaze anymore. I looked up.

“I’m sorry about this surprise. I was told you were informed I would be seeing you while Dr. Mayweather is in recovery.” His eyes met mine at the last moment of his little speech. For a moment, I couldn’t speak as we studied each other.

“Um…I was…but I wasn’t told you would be...male,” I felt tongue tied.

His brow furrowed as he looked down flipping through my file. I covered my mouth. It made me nervous seeing him look over it all, something only seen by Dr. Mayweather.

“It doesn’t say in your case that you prefer only female counselors,” he looked up at me confused.

“I didn’t really discuss it with my lawyer when she got the court order, since I was against going into therapy in the first place.”

“I see,” he paused. “I understand how this can be uncomfortable for you based on the nature of your case. I can try to find you someone different, but it could take a while for your insurance since I am already here. It’s typically a much longer process and delicate to change a therapist. My specialty is in these cases of traumatic domestic situations. Dr. Mayweather felt it would be a good fit since your treatment as I said is almost complete, she will be gone for the rest of your treatment.”

He rattled all this information off while looking me directly in the eye. I felt like I could drown in them. What he said made sense and with my sessions almost complete it seemed ridiculous to go through the process of changing doctors.