52. Communication Breakdown, Part Two

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Warning: This part might be a little rough.  Viewer discretion advised.

Julia

Of course, we did not begin immediately after I announced we would do so.  First, I slid a pad of lined notebook paper off my desk and clicked a black pen to readiness.  I lowered my head, said a silent prayer. Very quietly I drew a single deep breath through my nose and out my mouth. And Freddie began to fidget.

"Do you always take this long to get started?" he quipped.

I shook my head, eyes still closed.  "No, sorry, usually I can launch right into the fun and games- but every now and then it takes a little more effort."

Freddie almost sounded hurt.  "Am I that much of an exercise, dear?"

"It's not you, it's- it's just today.  That's all."

A pause as he worked his mouth. "Right."

This was going to be tricky. I didn't want to counsel him. I was in no condition to play therapist to anyone in that moment, much less Freddie. I wanted to hold him, to absolutely throw myself into his arms and never let him go.

Control, I commanded myself, one hand tightening quietly into a fist, then relaxing again.  It was all I could do not to reach up to play with my necklace, for fear the ring should fall out of my collar for him to see - and even worse, question. 

 I lifted my head, and tried my hardest not to think about how only twelve hours ago this selfsame man was moving so skillfully back and forth within me, his face hovering directly over mine so that in the split second I managed to keep my eyes open I caught glimpses of his clenched jaw and the mess my hands had made of his dark hair, while my flesh erupted in pleasure with every long, hot minute that passed over us-

Jim Hutton, I reminded myself before I could tumble over the edge- which did the trick nicely.   In a trice, my expression melted into the painstakingly crafted, warm yet professional smile I wore with every client while I inwardly cringed so hard it was a wonder I could still breathe.

And so,  I declared, "So- what would you like me to call you?"

Freddie blinked.  "What?"

"Your name, sir!  What is it?"

He looked quite lost.  "I'm - not sure I understand what you're doing."

"You said you wanted the works, so you're getting it.  I'm treating you as I would anyone else who walks through that door- so starting now, you are a stranger to me.  You see?"

"Mm," was the only sound he made in response.  "Well, then we might as well drop the whole thing."

I frowned.  "Why?"

He shot me a wry look.  "You know I don't like talking to strangers."

"I'm not a stranger."

"You just said, that for as long as we play this game, we basically have to pretend we don't know each other.  So, I mean- this might as well be an interview- which I loathe."

"Freddie, a counseling session isn't anything like an interview.  It's more of a back and forth-"

"Yes, but the fact is- it still remains that if we have to act like we don't have a sort of history or whatever, then neither of us are going to get anywhere.  My God, I don't just vomit up personal things to anyone- and if I have to act like you're not- you're not you, then there's no point."

"Good grief, you can be so stubborn," I sighed.  "It's just an example; this was your idea anyway, so I don't even know what the problem is."

Freddie shrugged.  "No problem.  It's a matter of preference.  It would be one thing if you were my doctor and I was in for a checkup, but you're not my doctor or whatever.  You're my - you're- you.  You know?" 

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