Fictional. Stepdad, stepdaughter.
____________________________________
Dr. Harlan scribbled something on her notebook. I paused briefly, then finished what i had been saying. "...well, when he did that it made me feel horrible, like...like he doesn't trust me. James is just a friend and I told him he had nothing to worry about." Was I complaining too much about my boyfriend Blake? Lately it seemed like we'd been going through a rough patch. Arguing more. Not trusting each other.
This most recent argument of ours centered on one of my guyfriends, James. While Blake was reaching for his phone on the nightstand, he had accidentally grabbed mine. Saw a text from James. It was nothing sexual or inappropriate. He had just wanted to know if I was still hanging out with him that Saturday to play some videogames and help him fix his computer. However, my boyfriend almost flipped out right away. "Are we still good for Saturday at 4? Let me know, James," Blake read outloud. He hesitated. "Who is James?"
I sighed. Felt anger rise within me. "I've spoken to you about him before," I reminded him. "James is a friend of mine. We went to college together." Blake got quiet.
"Why haven't I met your guyfriends? I've introduced you to mine..." he pointed out. It was like he was being super critical of me-& I hated when he was like that. I snatched my phone from him. Texted James back quickly. "I've been busy lately with work, but you'll meet them soon," I promised.
I soon realized my therapist was staring at me. Dr. Harlan had finished writing her notes. I blushed. Had she just asked me a question? Had I tuned her out just now? "I think you're in a dysfunctional relationship, Mallory," she replied finally. I relaxed slightly, but a part of me was still on edge. My throat went dry.
"But it's not like Blake abuses me," I stated.
Dr. Harlan sighed. "But he makes you feel bad about yourself, doesn't he? What about that time he made fun of your forest painting?"
I cringed while I remembered. She'd hit a weak spot. I clenched my fists. "He knows how important I take my artwork, how much time and effort I put into them...he didn't have to be critical of my work," I blurted out.
"Exactly," she agreed. "I just think you should really think about how you mostly feel around him. Do you feel loved and protected? Supported? Or not so much?"
I glanced at the clock above her head. It was two minutes after 5. I let her know. She kept staring at me. "But how do I fix him?" I asked without really thinking. "You can't. You can try to improve the relationship, but you can't fix someone else without their effort," she explained. She paused. "What do you want to fix most specifically in the relationship?"
I thought about it. "The intimacy."
"You want to feel closer to him? Try a new fun experience together, or maybe take a class together." She jotted down some more notes. "That's our session..." and she politely shut down our session for that day.
*********************************************************
Work became a bit hectic the next few days, due to some new employees joining the team. Also Taylor had quit, which sucked since she was moving. She'd been so much fun and so nice. While I helped Monica fold some shirts and clean out the fitting rooms towards the end of our shift, I let my mind wander.
"So then..." she was rambling on about her weekend. About a party she went to. I nodded occasionally, but really I just wanted to go home. My feet were killing me. Also, I didn't go to parties. I didn't care about her story. What could my boyfriend and I do to bring us closer together? To spice up our relationship? A baby crying nearby brought me back to reality briefly. Glancing over, I saw a couple walk past me with a stroller. Behind them were a group of teenagers. 2 girls & 1 guy. They looked like they were laughing at a joke or something. I turned back to my shirt folding. A naughty idea suddenly popped into my mind: threesome.
I'd never done it before. I don't think Blake had either, but maybe it would make us closer?