Five Years

by Brooklyn Knight

  He’d also sent heels; red stilettos, which were secured to my ankles with satin, red ribbon.

  I looked… sexy. I felt sexy. I turned to the side to get another view. I’d wrestled my curls and finally gotten them into a messy updo. I was going to do a bun, but the outfit called for something more.

  The past nine months had been uncomfortable, at best. I was still doing supervision, still talking about the unorthodox client who’d inched his way into my emotions. To be clear, sharing emotions with a client was entirely normal. In fact, that’s what made the therapeutic process work.

  But something different had happened with Maverick. There was a draw, a magnetism. I’d tried to fight. When he quit therapy, I’d been shocked, but as I ruminated over it, I’d become glad. Five years was a damn long time, but if he made it… if we made it, ethically, I’d be clear. No one, except Sheila, knew he’d been my client. My conscience would be clear. All I needed to do was stick to the rules, the way I’d been taught to do in school and by my mother.

  My cell phone jingled.

  Mary, I’m outside.

  My heart jumped and I rushed to the window. When I saw a sleek Porsche parked at the edge of the sidewalk, I gasped.

  Really Maverick? All of this?

  He was typing back. It’s a proper date, isn’t it? I could’ve brought the hooptie, but I wanted to impress you.