I groaned in reply. “Whatever,” I muttered dismissively, then added, “And if you really wanna know, she wants to start dating again, so that's the end of our thing."
"That bothers you," she assessed. "Did you want to date her?"
I scoffed and shook my head. "Hell no. Cee and I are friends and co-workers. That's all. Yeah, I mean, we hooked up every now and then, but there's nothing more than that between us."
"Then, what bothers you about her dating someone?"
I furrowed my brow. "I don't know."
"But it does bother you."
"Yeah, I guess it does a little,” I relented.
She waved a hand toward me. "Well, try to explain it to me."
I unburdened myself with a huff and pressed my back to the chair. "You know, Doc ..."
"Try, Blake," she encouraged gently. “You only bring these things up when I know you want to talk about them, so just try.”
Raking my fingers through my hair, I looked up to the ceiling and without a second thought, I began to speak. "I don't know. I guess maybe I feel a little rejected. A little frustrated, too. I thought we had a good thing going. I mean, we've been doing this shit for years. We always kept the sex from getting between our work relationship and how rare is that? I don't even think Gus suspected anything. We kept that shit separate. But now, she decides she wants to date people, and I get it. She doesn’t wanna have to explain her fuck buddy to them, that’s fine, but what am I supposed to do? I know that makes me sound like a selfish prick, but I mean, seriously. It's not like we fucked regularly or anything, but every now and then, the mood struck, and we were there for each other. But now ..." I shrugged with defeat.
“Now you feel alone,” she finished for me.
“Yeah,” I concluded as my gaze traced the outline of crown molding. “I guess that’s it.”
"Are you jealous?"
Bringing my attention back to her, I laughed darkly. "Jealous? Of who?"
"Celia? Or … whoever she ends up dating?"
I laughed again. "Nah, I'm not jealous. I told you. I don't feel like that about her."
"No," Dr. Travetti said sternly. "I meant, are you jealous that she might have someone soon, and you don’t?”
"Hell no." I snickered, tipping my head back again.
"Why is that so hard to believe?"
"Because I don't want someone."
There was a long pause, too long, and I looked back to the good doctor to make sure she hadn’t disappeared altogether. What I found was Dr. Vanessa Travetti, pursing her pretty lips and assessing me for too many seconds longer than I would've liked. She was picking me apart, playing her mind games, and the longer she watched, the more I wanted to yell at her. But before I could speak, she finally asked, "Do you want to know what I think?"
"Not really," I snorted a bitter chuckle. "But sure. Hit me."
She smiled fondly. "I think you do want someone. I think you have spent a very long time forcing yourself into thinking you don't, whatever be the reason, but deep down, there's a part of you that craves affection. That's why you turned to Celia in the first place. She's the closest thing you've had to an actual girlfriend, and—”
“I’ve had girlfriends before, Doc.”
“When? In the time you’ve been seeing me?”
I shook my head, then shrugged. “I guess not since, uh … college, maybe? I don’t know.” I tried to conjure a vivid memory of my last girlfriend. She was a feisty little punk with a duo of tongue rings. Hot as fuck with a nice ass. But the moment she called my brother an idiot, I kicked her out of my car and out of my life.
“That’s a long time ago, Blake,” she answered gently. “And now that Celia is removing herself from serving that position in your life, I think you're realizing that you're going to miss it."
I barked with a laugh. "I turned to Celia because we were both horny as hell one night and we were both single. We were convenient for each other then, but now, we're not. She's got the opportunity to find someone, and I'm alone. It's always gonna be that way, so ... End of story."
Dr. Travetti lifted her head with intrigue. "Why did you say that?"
Why had I said it? I should've bitten my tongue. But then, wasn't this the very reason why I’d signed up for therapy in the first place? To talk to someone?
"Because." I brushed it off with a flip of my hand.
"Because why, Blake?"
"Because it's fucking true."
She nodded slowly. "Does this have to do with your brother?"
I gritted my jaw. "Don't bring him up again, Doc."
"But it does, doesn't it?"
"I don't know what you want me to say to that."
"I want you to tell me the truth. This is the safest place, Blake. I won't judge you."
"No, but you'll write some shit on your fucking clipboard, won't you?"
“I might.”
“Well, isn’t that the same thing?”
With an assertive smile, she picked up her board and tossed it gently across the coffee table to me. It landed in my lap and I furrowed my brow. "Now you have my clipboard. I have nothing to write on."
I hummed contemplatively. "Touché, Doc."
"Well?"
I read the lines she’d scribbled earlier. "Defensive when talking about Celia. Angry? Jealous?" I twisted my lips at the sight of those words. Seeing them written so plainly, in the good doctor’s pretty script, drove them like spears through my skin and they pierced my heart with their pointy little T’s and that arrowhead A.
"The truth is, Doc," I swallowed, resigning myself to speak a truth I never thought I'd utter aloud, "I’ve spent a long time being jealous of other people. Friends, relatives … It just felt really unfair, because you know, when I was a kid, shit was great, until it wasn’t, and I’d start to watch these TV shows and movies for an escape. I’d find myself feeling so ridiculously jealous of fuckin’ Ross Gellar, whose only real problem was whether Rachel was into him today or not. How pathetic is that?"
"Everybody does that, Blake. We all envision ourselves in scenarios foreign to us. The grass is always greener on the other side, or so they say—"
"Yeah, but see, Doc, for me? The grass is actually greener. It's bright and vibrant and fucking beautiful. I'm unbelievably jealous that Celia can go out and find herself a boyfriend. I mean, I'm happy as hell for her, wish her the best and all that, but I'm jealous that she doesn't have to worry about what her brother would think. How he'd react. If he'd throw a fit if something was set just a little off kilter in his life. Or ..." I wiped a hand over my mouth and shook my head. "Or fuck, what if the guy had a problem with her brother? What if this guy found out about him and ran for the fucking hills? Because that brother is a permanent fixture in her life, and she will have to care for him forever. That's not a choice she has, it's just the way it is, but that guy? He can leave. He can get as far away from it as he can, and he fucking should because dealing with that brother is exhausting and draining and so fucking consuming, never mind her parents, and …” My words floated away as I stared at her, lips parted and breathing hard.