My Therapist Is My Second Husband
“Aaron misses you and can’t live without you,” was Dr. W’s first line at our first session.
I turned to my handsome, curly haired off-and-on beau of six years, sitting beside me on the couch of Dr. W’s office. I’d left Aaron because he couldn’t commit. Yet after three months apart, he coerced me to a couples session with his new therapist, Dr. W, “just for closure.”
“He’s so happy you could make it here today,” Dr. W added.
“And who are you, Cyrano de Bergerac?” I asked. Read more …