Book two
Rhegan Clarke:
A girl who has everything but struggles
to grasp the one thing she truly wants.
" I miss you and I love you so fucking much that it hurts. But it hurts even more to be without you. It hurts that I pushed you away because of...
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Rhegan
Today was the day.
My first therapy session with my mother.
Scratch that, my egg donor.
I was dreading this day from the second that I had extended the invitation. Yes, I wasn't being forced to extend the invitation to here and Dr. Green was easily replaceable, however, I actually liked the quirky therapist. Her suggestion of inviting my mother to a sit down was a long time coming.
I didn't like it, but it was now or never.
Grabbing my Ralph Lauren cardigan, I shimmed into and buttoned the buttons with shaky fingers. I had been keeping up with meds ever since that binder I'd had last month where I skipped some days. My fingers weren't shaking as a side effect of neglecting my meds, I was nervous.
As much as I hated to admit it, I was nervous.
And I shouldn't be.
A few minutes later, I joined my father downstairs. "Goodmorning," I greeted him with a kiss at his temple.
" Good Morning bunny," he smiled, " you're in a good mood today."
Actually quite the opposite considering that I was about to have a sit down meeting with your deadbeat and trifling wife. My good spirits were simply because apart of me knew that I was going to have her leaving this therapy session wishing that she'd forgotten all about me and my father and left us alone.
I highly doubted that.
If me telling her that she should've swallowed blew over her head, then nothing that I could say could make her buzz the fuck off. She was just like an annoying little fly, persistent.
" I'm sure that'll be ruined in about forty-five minutes. I have therapy with my mother dearest today," I slam down my coffee mug with more aggression than I intended.
" Oh," my father said, surprised.
Granted, I did not tell him about how my last therapy session went. " How did this come about? The last time I checked, you'd rather rip your vintage Ralph Lauren to shreds than be in a room with your mother willingly."
As if my Ralph Lauren cardigan had grown ears and overhead my father, my arms started to itch from the fabric as punishment.
" My therapist suggested that we needed a sit down in order to heal the deep scars that her sharp talons had caused, and affected my ability to be emotionally open and intimate.." I took a sip of my scorching hot coffee, welcoming the burn in my tongue and not caring that my taste buds were probably burned off.
" Is she crazy?"
" A little unhinged for a therapist if you ask me. Maybe a little delusional too if she thinks this is going to go smoothly."
