Mid Life Love: At Last (Mid Life Love #2)(7)

“So...” He put on a pair of glasses and looked at a sheet of paper. “Miss Gracen, I see that you’ve signed up for the two hour session. Is that correct?”

“Yes.”

“And when asked what you wanted the main focus to be on...” He flipped the paper over. “You said that you two are having problems in the intimacy department?”

Jonathan quickly turned his head to face me, raising his eyebrow.

“NO. I never said that. I said that—”

“Ah, ah, ah. It’s right here. My secretary never makes a mistake.”

“You don’t even have a—”

“Shhh.” He leaned forward and pressed a black pen against my lips. “Don’t be ashamed of your bedroom problems, Miss Gracen. Every couple has them in some form or another. That’s what today‘s all about.”

I could feel Jonathan glaring at me, begging me to look his way so he could say something, but I kept my eyes straight ahead.

“If you’re hurting about something—anything at all, no matter how small it is, these next two hours are the perfect time to let it out.” He took a deep breath. Then he shut his eyes and slowly exhaled. “Let it all out.”

He sat like that for at least two minutes—shut eyes, Indian style, head tilted up to the ceiling, and I signaled to Jonathan so we could leave and end this joke of a session, but Dr. Choate’s eyes suddenly flew open.

“Now that that’s done,” he said. “Let’s get down to business. Why are you here today, Mr. Statham?”

“To help fix my fiancée’s intimacy problems.”

“See that, Miss Gracen?” Dr. Choate nodded. “He wants to fix things too! So, on a scale of one to ten, how satisfied are you with your current sex life, Mr. Statham?”

“Twenty.”

“Okay, that’s great. Miss Gracen, how about you?”

“Twenty,” I whispered.

“Hmmm. I see...” He wrote something down and held out two notecards. “I want you to write down your honest expectations for sex after marriage. Is it going to be the same as it is now? More? Less? Well, definitely not less because Miss Gracen clearly isn’t satisfied.”

“Thank you, Dr. Choate.” I snatched my notecard from him, still avoiding the intense glare that was coming from Jonathan.

I wrote down “same” on my notecard and waited for him to speak again.

“Okay, now toss your cards into the fire pit.”

What? We both crumpled them up and threw them into the small fire.

“Now,” he said as he handed us two more. “This time I want you to answer the question that is printed on the notecard and be as honest as possible. And actually, could you address them as ‘Dear Future Husband’ and ‘Dear Future Wife’? We’re going to toss them into the fire again as soon as we’re done, but make sure you take this seriously.”

He reached behind him and turned on a small radio—a radio that played the sound of ocean waves, and then he shut his eyes again.

There was only one question on the card: What’s one thing you wish you could change about your current intimacy exchanges?

I looked over and saw Jonathan scribbling away, but I couldn’t think of anything. I suddenly felt guilty for suggesting this session in the first place. Whether I wanted to believe in my current fairy tale or not, there was nothing I would change. Not a damn thing.

Sure, he and I argued about things from time to time—me working late so often, him being so damn controlling, me redecorating every room in his house, but for the most part we were great. More than great.

As a matter of fact, last night he’d held me in his arms and told me everything he loved about me, assuring me that our marriage would be the greatest accomplishment of his life.

“Miss Gracen?” Dr. Choate snapped me out of my thoughts. “You’re not writing anything down. Don’t be afraid to unleash your honesty. You have to let him know exactly how you feel. How else can you expect your bad intimacy to change to good intimacy? Unless you want to experience bad sex for the rest of your life that is. I know you only said ‘twenty’ because he said it first.” He winked at me and then whispered, “It’s okay. We’re going to fix this.”

Jesus...

I rolled my eyes and wrote down a few words so it would seem like I was trying. When I looked over at Jonathan again, I realized he was still writing.

He has that much to say?!

“Time’s up!” Dr. Choate beamed. “Now, before we feed the fire, we’re going to exchange the cards and read them out loud.”

What?! “No...I can’t.” I started to crumple mine in my hand. “I didn’t know that was going to happen. I would’ve written something else...”

“What’s wrong, dear?” Jonathan smirked and held his card out to me. “I thought we were working on having honest expectations for our marriage.”

I sighed and handed him my crumpled card, taking his into my hands, not bothering to look at it.

“Mr. Statham, you first.” Doctor Choate smiled. “What’s the one thing your future wife would change about your current intimacy?”

Jonathan looked down at the card, then he looked back up at me—smiling with his eyebrow raised.