She left me in silence for a moment while she thought.
“What about the ex moving here? Has that happened yet?” She asked, jumping subjects – something that I usually did in our sessions, not her.
“He’s here,” I said flatly, trying to mask any and all emotion from my tone. “Why?”
“Has there been any contact?” She asked next, ignoring my question.
“No, and there probably won’t be.”
“I’m gonna say for the thousandth time, I think that needs to change. If there’s some truth to what you asked, you need to determine what’s at the root of you sabotaging your relationship.”
She saw me cringe at the word ‘sabotage’.
“That’s basically what you asked me, Samantha – ‘Dr. Gill, is it possible that I want to think my boyfriend’s cheating on me?’ – thus giving yourself an excuse to act out and end the relationship minus the guilt you’d have otherwise.”
I lowered my head at her evaluation and breakdown of my statement. “What does talking to AJ have to do with anything, though?”
She forgot that I was a patient and rolled her eyes, which made me chuckle.
“Samantha! Honey! The moral of the story is: face your past, own it, and don’t make the same mistakes in the future that you did back then! Whatever that means to you, sweetheart, you have to jump off this merry-go-round you’re stuck on!”
I continued to smile at my oh-so-professional doctor letting her Brooklyn/Italian accent slip out when she checked me out of love, not frustration.
“Listen, woman, you need to face this AJ guy and tell him whatever it is that you’re holding in. Whether it’s that you’re sorry, that you made a mistake, or that you love him –“
My eyes lifted to hers when she said that and got stuck there.
“Whatever it is, dig the words up from whatever grave you buried them in and SAY THEM, for heaven’s sake.”
I left Dr. Gill’s office in a haze. Love? Where’d that word even come from? Up until now, she’d been all about ‘closure’ and whatnot. Had something that I said made her suspect that I was still in love with AJ? If so, she’d misread me. Clearly.
I walked into my apartment, having already taken half a day from work because I was expecting a delivery of art supplies for my new studio this afternoon, I plopped down on my couch and found my thoughts still fixed on Dr. Gill’s summation.
Love…yeah, right.
*****
By the time the delivery guys showed up, it was late enough that I could’ve gone back to work, grabbed Chinese food on my way home, and been on the couch watching Good Times reruns like usual. Needless to say, when my door buzzed I was already hella irritated.
Directing the men to the bedroom that used to be Angel’s, I went back to my post on the couch wearing a pair of Jason’s loose-fitting sweats and a tank top. Glamorous, I was not.
I’d just hung up the phone from ordering a pizza when someone knocked at my door. My first thought was that the gruesome twosome delivering my items were actually two-thirds of a trio and one had just gotten lost in the stairwell, but when I opened up, Jason stared back at me.
We hadn’t seen one another since our ‘date’ on Sunday and our conversations had been dry to say the least. He looked like he was already expecting the less than enthusiastic greeting when I simply stepped aside and motioned for him to come in. The sound of either Ren or Stimpy dropping something in the studio alerted Jason that I wasn’t alone. His expression was questioning when he pointed down the hall.
“Art studio delivery just got here,” was all I said back, plopping back down on the sofa.
When I didn’t say anything else, Jason sat down beside me and pretended to be watching TV. However, the nervous energy that he was practically broadcasting was making us both uncomfortable.
“How long’re they gonna be here?” He asked anxiously.