Shameless (The Therapist #2), стр. 19
“Well, you're single now, and I’m trying to live vicariously through you. So, spill the beans before I have to go home to my husband.”
“Well, don’t judge me, but I didn’t get his number.” Missy lets out an exaggerated sigh. “Leave me alone. He just got up and left, there was nothing I could do. He just said he hoped he’d see me here again sometime, and that’s fine because I don’t think I’d want this number right now anyway.”
“What? What’s wrong with you? Why not, Tessa?”
“Because I think I need to just take some time to myself,” I reply, sipping my drink again. “I think I want to take some time to enjoy being single. Maybe I’ll give you a reason to live vicariously through me.”
“I’m confused.”
“That guy is the type you settle down with. He’s the guy you commit to, and I have no intention of settling down or committing to anyone right now.”
Missy bulges her eyes at me before releasing an ear-to-ear smile.
“Oh okay! I see you, Tessa. I’ll drink to that. Your mom is going to be salty, though.”
Now it’s me who smiles from ear to ear. “Yeah. I know.”
Check Engine Light
Chapter Thirteen
~ Malcolm ~
“Wow, there's a lot of people here.”
“Yeah, too many,” I reply, just as my shoulder is bumped by a teenager holding hands with a girl who looks entirely too young to be allowed in the mall without her parents, let alone walking hand in hand with another kid too young to be alone.
“Aww, it’s okay,” Ava coos, as if consoling a baby. She reaches up and grabs a hold of my face, squeezing my cheeks as she wiggles my face side to side. “Poor baby. Don’t worry. We’ll be seated in the theater before you know it.”
I smile and nod along, but on the inside, I’m fuming. Growing up in my parents’ house wasn't some horrible ordeal that ruined my entire childhood, but it did have its issues. One of those issues was how violent my mother could become at a moment’s notice. She could go from loving to choking you in zero seconds flat. She always felt she had to overdo things because I was a growing boy, and the bigger I became, the more she felt she needed to keep me in check by upping the violence. To her, my size and the fact that I’m a man was enough of a threat to her to make her lash out and overcompensate for our size difference. She was a short woman, the moment she started having to look up at me, she changed.
I loved my mother, but my face is off limits because of her. Being punched in the face while wearing braces can leave a permanent scar on the inside of you. My mother died two years ago, but the damage she caused will never be laid to rest. When Ava touches my face, it literally rubs me the wrong way, and I pull away.
“Oh, come on, grumpy pants. Let’s go.” Ava ignores my obvious annoyance, and begins walking towards the movie theater.
In Dover, there is only one movie theater, and it’s inside the mall. I really hate it, but I love going to the movies, so I’m stuck between a rock and a bunch of annoying teenagers. After crossing the food court and pushing through the fog of intermixed smells of different foods, we finally make it to the theater. There’s a line outside the ticket booth, and the two of us find our way to the back of it.
“Stupid lines,” Ava says with a shrug. “I’m glad we came early enough. I can’t wait to see this. How about you?”
Ava turns to me and wraps her arms around my waist. It's a show of affection that’s aberrant, because we don't usually do things like that. We’re dating, officially, but our relationship isn't one of public displays of affection. We don't do a lot of kissing or hand holding because it’s just not our thing. We fuck. That's what I’m used to. Kisses and warm embraces aren't usually part of the equation.
I’m fine with us withholding the PDA. With Ava, I don't feel an urge to be overly affectionate. I know what we do, I remember how we met, and I know both of us well enough to know we’re not in love. Ava and I are far from a rom-com, so when she wraps her arms around my waist, it’s the second time I’ve felt uncomfortable since we walked into the mall.
“Umm, yeah,” I mutter. “It’s gonna be a good one.”
“What’s the matter with you today? You seem stressed. Work getting to you? You could always quit, you know? You don't have to spend all your time talking to women about their relationships.”
“What?” I frown, because this isn't the first time Ava has mentioned my job as if she has a problem with it.
I know what it’s about. I met her in my office, and the two of us ended up where we are now, so Ava thinks if it happened for her, it could happen for someone else. She’s paranoid, and the thought of it stays in her mind so much, she can't help but keep mentioning my job.
“I mean, I know you love your job,” Ava says. I can see the wheels turning in her head, trying to find a way to explain her comment. “I’m just saying, maybe it’s stressing you out. It’s a lot to have to deal with so many women’s problems.”
“Why do you keep saying women?” I snip, trying not to talk too loudly. “I’m a relationship therapist, Ava. I get just as many men in my office as I do women.”
“Oh, yeah I know,” Ava tries to backtrack, just as the line moves up. “Oh, look we’re next.”
Ava and I approach the counter and order our tickets, although I’m feeling surprisingly annoyed by how this evening has