Ego Maniac

Emerie and I locked eyes one more time, an unspoken exchange. We were on the same page.

“I’ll let you two talk.” I shut the door behind me.

For the next half hour, I worked on a case file at the empty reception desk in the lobby, not wanting that asshole husband to walk back in without my knowing. Eventually, I caught his face outside the front window. He was smoking a cigarette and waiting outside for his wife. Smart move.

Emerie walked Mrs. Dawson to the lobby as they spoke. “How about we talk on the phone tomorrow? Even if it’s just for fifteen minutes? I’d really like to hear from you after today’s session.”

Her client nodded. “Okay.”

“How does ten sound?”

“That’s good. Bill leaves for work at eight.”

Emerie nodded. “You know what? I didn’t give you an appointment card for next week’s session. Let me grab one for you, and I’ll be right back.”

After she walked away, I spoke to Mrs. Dawson. My voice was low, nonjudgmental, and cautious. “You gonna be okay?”

She briefly looked in my eyes, but quickly diverted hers to the ground. “I’ll be fine. Bill isn’t really a bad guy. Honestly, you just caught him at a bad time.”

“Uh-huh.”

Emerie returned and handed her client a small card. “Talk to you tomorrow?”

She nodded and left.

When the door shut, Emerie sighed loudly. “I’m so sorry about that.”

“Nothing to be sorry about. You can’t help that your client is an asshole. Got plenty of ‘em myself.”

“I think he’s physically abusive to her.”

“I’d tend to agree with you.”

“I also don’t think I’ll ever hear from her again. She’s going to cut me off because I confronted her about what I suspected was going on.”

“You don’t think she’ll call tomorrow or show up at her appointment next week?”

“Nope. He’s not going to let her continue. Now that I know him a little better, I’m really surprised he ever agreed to come here at all. My counseling sessions have been with just her.”

“It’s tough.”

She sighed again. “I hope she calls you.”

“Me?”

“The appointment card reminder I gave her was your business card. Figured she needed a divorce attorney more than relationship counseling.”

My eyebrows jumped. “Nice.”

We walked side by side down the hall.

“I could use a drink,” Emerie said.

“Your office or mine?”

Emerie looked at me. “You have alcohol in the office?”

“I have a lot of shitty days.”