She sits in the club chair adjacent and smiles as she pulls out her notes.
“Thanks for seeing me.”
She nods. “I had a cancellation.”
“I was canceled too.” It’s been a day since the team dropped me.
She glances down at her notes. “Have you been experiencing any aggression about the loss of your team?”
I recall dinner last night with Francesca, then making love in our bed. “No. I feel a sense of relief that they told me. I just went home to my girlfriend.”
“Let’s talk about her. What attracted you to her?”
I clasp my hands and lean forward. “Her eyes. She bumped into me, and they ... sort of took my breath. I don’t know; is that weird?”
She smiles. “No, we’re all drawn to different things in another person. Tell me about how you met.”
“NDA there, but I couldn’tseeall of her face, but yeah, there was this sort of instant vibe between us. I liked her tattoo, her lips, the scar on her hip. She said unexpected things, about how I was dark, and it ... stuck with me. It felt like she knew me, but she didn’t. Well, she had seen me before—wow, this is confusing. She calls us fate. I call it coincidence.” I fiddle with my thumbs. “It’s just, I have strong feelings for her, but I feel as if she’s keeping secrets from me.”
“Why?”
I shrug, not able to grasp on to anything concrete. “Her friends will be talking, then stop when I come in the room. She’ll start to say something, then stop. She stares at me with fear in her eyes; I mean, I canseeit, but I’m too scared to ask her what it’s about. What if she’s actually afraid of me?” I stare at my hands. “I keep waiting for her to give up on me. She wants ...”
“Yes?”
“More of me.” I take a shaky breath.
“That makes you afraid because ...”
“I’m always waiting for everything to implode. Maybe I’ll hit her. Maybe she’ll quit us.”
“Do you want to hurt her? Ever fist your hands at her? Threaten? Curse at her?”
“Jesus, no! Never!”
“Are you your father, Tuck?” Her voice hardens, as if she’s goading me.
“Fuck no!” I stand up and pace around the room.
“Hmm, have you ever hit a woman?”
“No.”
“Ever want to?”
“Never.” I sit back down and rake a hand through my hair.
She watches me. “Perhaps you use this self-talk of being like your father to protect yourself from caring. It’s a good argument in your head, a reason to push people away. You watched your parents’ relationship implode—so you don’t take chances. You don’t know what a healthy relationship looks like.”
I nod. “Understatement.” I tug on my bottom lip with my teeth. “She’s fucking amazing. Talented. Beautiful. Funny.” A small laugh comes from me. “What’s cool is I bought one of her sketches before we met. It’s like she’s been coming and going in my life for years, and I didn’t even know.”
She pauses. “What I find interesting is she’s the main thing we’re discussing—and not the end of your time with the Pythons. True, I brought her up, but she’s what’s on your mind. Is it possible she’s more important than your career?”
The world turned on its axis when my career ended. It’s still carving a scar inside of me, but if she left, how many scars would I have? I shrug.
“Since the breakup with the team, have you had any chest pain or anxiousness?”
“No.” I shake my head, and she quirks an eyebrow.