Page 38 of Therapy Session: Session Two
“That’s a yeah?” He doubled down on his question.
I stepped out of his embrace and then turned to face him. “Q, do you know that this might be the last time that we see each other? That I’ll probably suggest another therapist? And the only time we’ll see each other will have to be in passing.”
“If that’s what you want, Breeze,” he held my stare. I sighed, and then he pulled me to him and rubbed my butt.
He peppered kisses down the side of my face as we were just wrapped in one another. It felt heavy. It felt like a goodbye, like something good coming to an end.
We parted ways, and then he looked down at me. I reached up and touched his beard. He stopped me, grabbing my hand and holding it in his. Then he pulled me back into the house.
“We got four hours, Breeze,” he said as he led me up the stairs.
I chuckled.
But after we ascended the stairs, there was nothing remotely funny about the things that he did to my body. He was fucking me with a purpose, and it was either to make me renege on this being the last time or to leave me with just enough to regret every single day that I was away from him. He ate me like he was hungry, kissed every inch of my body, sucked my toes, put hisfingers in my butt, and didn’t let up until he felt like he had made his point. All while Shareese watched.
The time seemed to have been put on fast-forward, because before I knew it, the driver was coming to the villa to pick us up and take us to the airport. The energy was light, we joked, laughed, and talked about the things that we saw along the way, but my heart was heavy.
The plane ride back to the States was smooth as I alternated between eating snacks and dozing off while watching movies. Q and Shareese had switched seats, so we sat together while he sat behind us. He was such a gentleman; he had been doing his best since she arrived not to make her feel like a third wheel. Because I invited her, I appreciated that.
The plane landed, and it was time for us to all part ways. Shareese said she had driven there, so we made sure she got into her car safely before we requested our respective trucks.
My screen lit up first, the notification alerting me that my driver was arriving in two minutes. I stood and grabbed the handle of my suitcase.
“The truck is almost here,” I said lowly as we both sat waiting in silence.
He didn’t speak; he just walked with my things out to the curb, where we confirmed the driver's tag, then opened the door for me while the driver loaded them. I stood in the doorway and looked up at him.
He placed his hand around my neck, leaned down, grabbed me, and kissed me slower and deeper than I had ever been kissed before. We stayed out there, in the middle of the arrivals area, tonguing each other down. At one point, I even heard a girl say “damn” from behind us. But that didn’t deter us. He kissed me like he literally believed that he would never have the chance again.
Then we parted, and he looked down at me and adjusted himself in his slacks.
“B?”
“Yes, Dr. Long?” I asked with a sly grin on my face.
“I’mma miss you too.” He placed a kiss on my forehead and turned to go back into the airport. I flopped down in the seat, admittedly wet from the kiss. Just as we pulled away from the curb, I got a notification.
Husband: I see you landed. I’ll see you soon, ma. Love you.
I wanted to take my phone and snap it in half over my knee like the Hulk. But instead, I just sent a cute, politically correct, wife-like response.
Me: Love you more, handsome. I’ve missed you.
From his message, I could see his location, and he had already made it home. I closed my eyes and lay my head against the window for the entire ride, trying to decompress. The driver could have been taking me to his dungeon, and I wouldn’t have known a thing.The car slowed to a halt, and I opened my eyes to see the outside of my home.
“Thank you,” I said as he opened the door and then went around the back to grab my bags.
Typing in the code on the keypad, I pushed open the door and didn’t even try to find Tim. I left my things at the bottom of the stairs, then made a beeline for the guest bathroom and started undressing. I even used one of the new toothbrushes in there to brush my teeth. I was wrecked. Had Tim been standing at the door with a black light, I would have lit up like a Christmas tree. I had to get every trace ofhimoff of me.
I showered, gargled, washed away my sins, wrapped a towel around my body and another around my head, and went upstairs to throw on a dress, expecting to see him in our room.But he wasn’t there, and when I passed the office he wasn’t there either, so I went in search of my husband.
I found him in the den, watching the Milwaukee Bucks, his leg kicked up on the ottoman, with a drink.
When he turned to me, his eyes scanned my body in a way that made me feel exposed. It was almost like he was examining me. Like he hadn’t expected me to come back in one piece.
“Well, hey,” I said as I neared him.
He stretched his arm out and invited me into his lap, where I sat across him. He stared at me for a beat too long. The dramatic silence made my pulse race.
