Hey friends! Chapter 7 of The Therapist has arrived. This is mostly a setup chapter, but the choices at the end are going to really help to shape the rest of the story (even though they may not seem like that at first). Nathan's control is starting to slip, Ethan's birthday is fast approaching, and Mei is starting to come out of her shell. Lots of exciting things in the chapters ahead. I can't wait to hear what you think and see what path you take!

"—and I don't know, man, I hadn't thought about her in probably a year." Ethan was leaned forward on the couch, his elbows on his knees, trying to keep his left leg from shaking. "But then there are things that trigger her and I'm right back there again. I don't want to make it sound like I don't love my mom. I do."

Nathan's phone buzzed on the desk.

He didn't mean to look. It was reflex. His date, if you could even call it that, was two days ago and he and Sierra had been texting almost nonstop like a couple of teenagers. The screen lit up with her name on it and he couldn't stop the smirk from appearing on his face.

There was an image attached to the message. His screen was locked, so he couldn't make out what it was but the preview made his imagination run.

Sierra: Thinking maybe I should wear...

"—does that make sense?"

"It does." Nathan dragged his gaze off the phone. His notepad was open on his lap but he hadn't written anything in at least two minutes. He realized Ethan was staring at him.

"You alright?"

"Yeah." He grabbed his phone and pushed it into his desk drawer. In the over twenty years of being a therapist he'd never had a patient think he was uninterested. He needed to get his head on straight and stop acting like a boy with a crush.

"I apologize, Ethan. That was unprofessional of me." He sat up in his chair, inching forward. "You were sharing something important and I let myself get distracted. That's on me."

"It's okay."

"It's not okay. I assure you it won't happen again" He picked the notepad back up. "I actually wanted to circle back to something from last session. Do you mind if we shift gears?"

Ethan shrugged. "Sure."

"Our last session I'd given you some homework. How's that going?"

The color drained out of Ethan's face and then came back in a rush. He sank half an inch deeper into the couch. "It's, uh. Yeah. It's going."

Nathan grinned, hoping to put Ethan at ease. He let the silence sit, waiting for Ethan to get comfortable enough to continue.

"I um... I did it the day after our last session." Ethan's voice dropped. "Then again over the weekend and um..." He looked toward his feet, shifting one in front of the other. "Today while Mei was at work."

"You seem embarrassed. Why is that?"

"I don't know." He chewed on his lip. "It just... it feels wrong now. Different."

"Different how?"

Ethan ran his hands over his face. "Can we go back to talking about my mom?"

"Ethan, you have just over a week, one more session, before your birthday." Nathan took a note about Ethan being uncomfortable. "If you can't talk about sex then how do you expect Mei to be able to give you what you want?"

Ethan let out a long breath. "It's just that... That first time I told myself I was doing it, because you know, you told me to. So I was looking for different things focusing on the angles."

Nathan nodded. "And now?"

Ethan looked around the office, avoiding Nathan's gaze. "I just... I find videos that... excite me..." He trailed off.

"What kind of videos are that?"

Ethan closed his eyes and exhaled through his nose. "They all kind of looked like her. The women." He gave a short, embarrassed laugh. "Which, I mean, that makes sense, right? That's my type. That's who I married. I think I was just... getting something that reminded me of her because she wasn't home."

Nathan clicked his pen. "That's one way to look at it, yeah." He ran his hand through his scruff. His phone buzzed inside the desk and his jaw tightened, reminding him to stay focused. "Are you replacing the actresses with Mei when you watch? Is it her you're seeing?"

Ethan's thumb started circling his opposite palm. "I...I guess so, yeah."

"And then men? Do you replace them too?"

Nathan kept his face neutral as Ethan's eyes went wide. Of course he didn't replace the men, no one did. He was just in the moment.

"I... guess not." His eyes darted around the room like he'd just admitted to a crime. "Is that bad? Should I be?"

"Not at all." Nathan gave him the warmest smile in his arsenal. "It's actually very common, Ethan. Wanting to see your wife the way other people see her, wanting her to be desired. It's a healthy instinct."

Ethan's shoulders dropped. "I wasn't... I mean... Is that what I was doing?"

Nathan shrugged casually like it wasn't him that came to that conclusion. "You tell me?" He leaned forward, suddenly laser focused, forgetting all about the phone in his desk. "Is there more to the tape than you're telling yourself?"

"I... I think about the tape a lot." He was talking faster now, completely bypassing the filter. "I think about watching it back. I told you that already. But I didn't... I don't know. I didn't realize that was connected to anything."

"It's all connected. You're developing a clearer picture of what you want. That's the whole point of this. But you need to talk to Mei about it."

"I don't know how to start that conversation."

"Start it tonight. After her session." He'd said it too fast. He saw the way Ethan looked at him. He needed to stay level headed. "Nothing heavy, just open the door. She may surprise you."

Ethan nodded slowly. "Okay. I... I think I found a position, an angle that would work. Maybe I can ask her about it."

"I think that's a great idea." Nathan stood and set the notepad on the desk. "We're at time."

Ethan rose, still processing, and offered his hand. Nathan shook it.

"Thanks, Nathan. This was... yeah. A lot to think about."

"That's the idea."

He walked Ethan to the door. The moment he was across the threshold, Nathan rushed back to his desk and retrieved his phone.

Sierra: Thinking maybe I should wear this the next time we get together. It's not too obvious what happened, right? ;)

On screen Sierra was wearing a low cut shirt,, her chest practically spilling from it. A large bruise was formed on the top of her left breast. Nathan licked his lips, his arousal beginning to grow.

Nathan: I doubt your husband would approve.

She responded almost immediately.

Sierra: You owe me a shot. I'm collecting on it this weekend. Hope you're prepared for an unforgettable night.

Nathan laughed and shook his head. She didn't even ask if he was free this weekend, she was just assuming he would drop everything to see her. The worst part of all, she was right.

The Chevron station was only a couple of blocks from Grace's apartment. She'd eaten at the Subway there more times than she cared to admit. It wasn't the most glamorous job in the world, but she would save on gas and get a little bit of income filtering in.

She studied herself in the bathroom mirror, five minutes before her interview. The light above her flickered, but she could see enough of herself to tell she looked mostly put together. Her brown hair was pulled up into a bun, her shirt had a collar. The blazer was from Goodwill but it fit her shoulders and that was the only thing that mattered. She could pass for someone who had her life together.

"You've got this," she said to the woman in the mirror. She went through the checklist of things Dr. Waverly had told her: firm handshake, lots of eye contact, smile. That last one was going to be the biggest challenge, but she could do it. She had to.

She took a deep breath as she approached the counter. A teenager was at the register, and barely looked up to acknowledged her. She cleared her throat.

"I have an interview. With Megan?"

"Yeah, hold on." The kid disappeared into the back.

A woman in her early thirties came out a moment later, black polo, Subway visor, a clipboard already in her hand. She gave Grace a smile.

"Grace? I'm Megan. Come on back, we'll use the office."

The office barely had enough room for two people. Grace sat in a folding chair, her knees nearly touching Megan's. Grace extended her hand awkwardly before she sat. She'd nearly blown the very first step.

"So." Megan flipped through the application as she sat down. "Thanks for coming in. I'll just ask you a few questions and we'll see if this is a good fit, sound good?"

"Sounds great."

"We'll start with an easy one." Megan was still smiling, Grace couldn't help but think it was somehow permanently plastered on her face. How could someone have so much to smile about?

"Why Subway?"

Because it's close to home. Because they don't run background checks. Because everyone here is probably just as fucked up as me. She didn't say any of that. Instead, she gave her best attempt at a smile. She even managed to show a few teeth.

"I like the structure. Everything is very, um, clinical. I find I work best in that type of environment."

Megan nodded and made a note. Grace wasn't sure if that was good or bad, but the head nod felt positive so she tried to smile a little more.

The next ten minutes were more of the same. Megan asked about her availability during the week, whether she could handle a register, whether she'd ever worked food service before. Grace had rehearsed every answer. She'd worked a coffee shop in college. She was a fast learner. She got along with people. She kept her voice level, her eye contact steady, and her hands still. Dr. Waverly would be proud.

"Okay, last thing." Megan closed the application. "How soon can you start?"

"Pretty soon. I mean, week after next for sure. The only thing is—" Grace felt her throat tighten but she kept going, she'd practiced this part too. "I have some family stuff that might require me to take a few days. Not long. Maybe a week, tops. I need to go to Oregon. I've been taking care of my father and his health isn't great, so if anything happens—"

"Oh." The smile wasn't permanently plastered on Megan's face. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you." Grace had said it so many times it came out clean. Somewhere in her chest, her father had been dying for nine years now. Long before she ever met Nathan, before The Island.

"So the thing is, we're really looking for someone who can start right away." Megan's tone had changed and Grace felt a wave of panic wash over her. "We had someone walk out last week and I'm covering a lot of their shifts myself. I really need someone who can start immediately."

"Oh." Her leg began to bounce. She didn't want to put off finding Nathan. The longer he was out there... She had to find him. Had to make him fix her. She still had enough in her savings account to cover rent a few more months. She could figure something out.

"And I totally get the family stuff, I do. My mom went through something similar a couple years ago. But for this role, I just—"

"I understand," Grace said, her tone sharp.

Megan nodded, almost apologetic. She asked a couple more questions after that, but it obvious to both of them the interview was over. Grace just hoped Dr. Waverly wouldn't be too upset.

Grace sat in the Camry for a long time before she turned the key. She was so close. Her hands shook lightly as she gripped the wheel. There was another restaurant not too far away, maybe she could try there. Or there was always gig work. The money was trash, but she could make it stretch if she needed to. Oregon was going to cost her gas, two nights in a motel, food.

She started the car. She'd talk to Dr. Waverly about it.

The podcast picked up where she'd left off. A woman's voice, mid-sentence, somewhere in the middle of a story about a man who'd volunteered at a youth center for fifteen years then just disappeared without a trace. Grace caught the last of it as she backed out of the space.

"—his clothes were still in the dresser, all of his belongings seemingly untouched. So where did he go? And why did it take investigators almost a full week before gaining access to his apartment? We'll get into that next week and so much more, on Dead Air."

Grace reached for the volume knob and turned it down. She was always fascinated by true crime pod casts. This one especially. There was something in the way the woman put her questions together that always made Grace feel, for about forty-five minutes a week, like there were still people in the world who knew how to look at things head-on. Grace imagined that in another life she would do that. Be the woman who investigated and gave a voice to the voiceless, instead of just being another victim.

She merged onto the road and pointed the car toward home.

Nathan was in the middle of responding to a gif that Sierra had sent when he heard the knock on the door. He glanced at the clock, it was five minutes until seven. Mei was early, that was good news. It meant she was eager. The bad news, was that he hadn't gone through any of her file like he'd intended.

He closed his phone without responding, tossed it in his desk drawer and then slammed it shut.

"Mei. Please, come in," he said as he opened the door, stepping aside with a smile.

She walked past him in a pair of blue jeans and a plain gray t-shirt. Her hair was down, and the faintest hint of perfume wafted through the air as she passed.

He watched her as she made her way to his office, sitting on the couch with a certain familiarity that made him warm with anticipation. Her legs sat apart, relaxed enough that it was the first thing he noticed.

"How was your week?" He settled into the chair across from her and picked up the notepad, his gaze flickering to the camera on the bookcase.

"Good." She tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "Really good, actually." She held his gaze. "The voice that's usually there has been silent all week." She paused, her hands coming to rest on her lap. "Even when Ethan and I are... when we make love."

Color climbed her throat but her eyes never wavered. He held her gaze for a fraction of a second to see if the shame or embarrassment would force her to look away. When she didn't, he gave her an encouraging smile.

"That's great news, Mei." He wrote unprompted disclosure. Sustained eye contact on the page. "I'm glad you're able to identify the change and name it."

Her face lit up as she sat a little straighter on the couch.

"You seemed more relaxed at game night as well." He allowed his gaze to travel her body. It wouldn't be much longer now "I loved getting to see that side of you."

Her cheeks went a shade darker. "I had fun."

"And has Ethan noticed the change? Has it increased your intimacy?"

She bit her lip. He knew he was pushing her boundaries, but he'd been impressed with how much she'd already volunteered. He couldn't help but want to see how far he could extend it.

"It..." She finally broke eye contact, her gaze shifting to her hands as she rubbed them across her jeans. "Yes. It's been more... frequent. We..." she laughed and shook her head. "We keep the lights on now. Ethan likes it when he can look at me."

Nathan shifted in his chair.

"And what about you? Do you like the idea of being watched?"

Her eyes went big and her hands balled into fists. The vein in her neck was pulsing. He waited for her to shut down. That's what the body language said. Her shoulders drew in, her chin tucked. He'd seen it a hundred times.

Then her knees drifted apart another inch and she squirmed. He'd been wrong. She wasn't about to shut it down. She was aroused.

"I um..." She looked up through her lashes, like she was afraid of being caught. "Maybe we can try the meditation technique again? It's easy to talk about this when I'm... You know."

"You're doing great, Mei." Nathan kept his voice low, not wanting to frighten her. "But a big part of this is going to be you learning to deal with these types of conversations without hypnosis. Let's try a different topic."

She nodded and released a shaky breath, thankful for the reprieve. She wasn't going to get one.

"Ethan's birthday is in ten days." He sat forward. "Have the two of you talked any more about the tape?"

Her body conformed to the sofa as she slid down it. Her gaze now on the floor.

"Not really, no."

"What's your biggest worry about the tape?"

She slid her feet along the carpet. "I'm not sure what you mean."

"Well," he sat back, running his hand along his jaw as the hair scratched his palm. "Are you worried he's going to show people? Worried he won't like it?" He watched her body language as he rattled off each possibility, while she sat statue-like. "Afraid of how you'll perform?" She flinched.

Mei's eyes stayed on the carpet. Her jaw worked like she wasn't sure how or even if she could answer. Nathan let the silence sit. He'd struck a nerve and he wasn't going to let her rush away from it.

"What if..." Her voice was small and Nathan had to strain to hear her. "What if he doesn't like the video as much as he thinks he will."

The response wasn't what Nathan had expected. He struggled to keep his face neutral.

"That fear isn't about the tape, Mei. You've spent a considerable amount of time trying to make yourself invisible. You kept the lights off with you and Ethan were intimate. You dress conservatively in public. It's only natural that the thought of being looked at in the most intimate way possible is going to scare you."

Her brow pinched, trying to understand Nathan's meaning. He pushed on, leaving her off balance.

"You mentioned a dance for work during game night. Have you found something to wear?"

Mei looked up, blinking several times as she tried to catch up. She was still trying to piece together the last thing he said.

"Sierra's been texting me about it—"

Her name caused Nathan's pulse to tick up. His eyes darted toward the closed drawer. She was probably texting him right now. Whether is was another picture that would get his blood pumping or a sly remark that would make him bristle was anyone's guess. He blinked, he couldn't think about that right now. Not with Mei sitting just a few feet away from him.

"...She's sent a few dresses but they've all been..." She paused realizing that she was about to say the exact thing Nathan had said was the problem.

"I'm not suggesting you wear something that makes you uncomfortable." Nathan smiled, seeing her catch herself. "I have an idea." He pushed away from his desk.

"Okay."

"Everything we've done in here has been in a controlled environment." He gestured loosely at the space between them. "And you've done great. But it's all happening in a vacuum."

"Okay..."

"I'd like to take you dress shopping."

"You... what?" Her arms came up across her stomach.

"It's called exposure therapy. I want you to try on a few dresses, talk to a saleswoman, move around in clothes that feel a little outside your usual. Nothing extreme. I just want you to feel what it's like when strangers look at you and nothing bad happens."

"Like, right now?"

"Right now."

"I don't... I mean... I'm not dressed to go shopping."

"You're dressed fine, Mei. That's the point."

She wasn't entirely convinced. He could see it. She was chewing lightly on the inside of her cheek, trying to think of why this was a bad idea.

"What about Ethan?"

"What about him?"

"He's going to wonder where I am."

"Then text him. Tell him exactly what we're doing. That's part of the exercise too. You don't have to hide it, because there's nothing to hide. If you'd feel better having him know, I think you should."

She was quiet. Her hands rested on her jeans, no longer moving. She looked at the Zen garden for a long second. Then she looked at her phone in her hand, and he watched her decide.

"Okay."

Nathan stood before she could find a reason to take it back. The notepad went to the desk. The drawer with his phone in it stayed right where it was, and he still didn't look at it.

"I'll grab my keys."

The drive took less than fifteen minutes. The store sat in a strip mall, tucked between a shoe store and Bath & Body Works. Mei ran her fingers along the seam of her jeans. This was going to be fun. She smiled as Nathan held the door open for her, a bell chiming above them.

"After you."

The shop was smaller on the inside. She looked around, a hint of vanilla hitting her nose as she walked along the edge of the store. There were two other people in the store. The woman behind the register who looked to be in her late thirties, and a boy, no older than twenty, near the back folding shirts.

She walked toward the back of the store where the dresses hung. Nathan stayed a few steps behind her, his hands in his pockets, a casual observer.

"Can I help you find something?" The boy asked.

"Oh, um. I'm just looking for a dress. There's a school dance coming up and I need something to wear."

The boy smiled, his gaze sliding over her. "Certainly. Is it formal or more casual?"

He was already walking toward a rack in the center of the building.

"Casual. It's for a group of second-graders."

"Oh." He paused mid-step, then turned to the left toward a rack of dresses closer to the back. Mei glanced at the rack he'd started toward before pivoting. They were long and glittery. The necklines were low, leaving very little to the imagination. Mei shuddered, heat creeping up her spine as she looked away.

"Here we go. This red one, would look great on you." He held up the dress for Mei.

The fabric looked like it was made to stick to your body. The neckline was modest, though a little too low for Mei's liking. She studied it, chewing on her lip as she ran her fingers along the fabric. Her arms would be bare, and the back of the dress was open to the middle of her back.

"Oh, I don't know that's really my..." Mei started. But as she met his eyes, the rest of her sentence evaporated. The clerk wasn't looking at the dress. He was looking at her. His polite smile had melted into something distinctly flirtatious. As the realization that she was being admired finally clicked into place, a deep, fiery crimson spread across her face.

Nathan hadn't said a word. He was pretending to look at a display of scarves, giving her space. She was grateful and also, somewhat annoyed. He had dragged her here without giving her time to change or prepare. Now she was being ogled by a teenager. The thought sent butterflies fluttering about her stomach. She ignored them.

"How about this one." She looked away from the clerk, her hand resting on a black dress with a high neckline and a long flowing hem. It was a bit more her style. Still modest, but it was a little more fitted through the waist.

Nathan turned. His eyes moved across the dress on its hanger as the associate put the red one back on the rack.

"Good. Try it on."

The fitting room was small and clean. She hung the dress, undressed and folded her clothes onto the bench. She caught herself in the mirror in her bra and underwear before she reached for the dress and realized she was smiling. The flush from out front hadn't fully gone. Her cheeks were still warm. She glanced down at herself. She adjusted her breasts, moving the cup around slightly to make her chest look fuller.

Stop it. She shook her head and reached for the dress.

It was a teenager. A bored kid at his after-school job who'd flirt with anything that walked through the door. It didn't mean anything.

She pulled the dress on faster than was needed. The black fabric slid over her head and settled against her body. There was a zipper on the side that she slid up and then smoothed the front and looked in the mirror.

Her smile was gone. The dress looked okay. It looked like everything else she wore. Her mother would have approved. She wasn't sure why that bothered her tonight when it never had before.

She reached for the dressing room door and stopped. She wanted to smile, to feel that rush she felt when the clerk pulled off the red dress. Her tongue pressed against her cheek as she looked at herself in the mirror, her heart pounding in her chest. Then she reached over and pulled the zipper down.

She opened the door a crack. Her eyes darting around. The saleswoman from up front walked by and Mei breathed a sigh of relief.

"All good, hon?"

"Could I — " Mei's voice caught. She tried again. "Could I see that red one? The one the boy showed me earlier?"

"You bet." The woman smiled warmly and Mei quickly shut the door before anyone else could see her.

She sat down on the bench staring at her folded clothes, refusing to look at herself in the mirror. There was a knock on the door seconds later. She opened it quickly, taking the dress from the woman's hand.

The fabric was heavier than the black dress. Just holding it made fire blaze beneath her skin. She let it fall over her head. As expected, the fabric clung to her every curve. She reached behind for the zipper and her fingers found skin where she'd expected fabric. She'd forgotten about the low cut in the back. Her shoulder blades were bare, the cold air causing goosebumps to pimple her skin.

She got the zipper up and with a shaky breath turned to face the mirror.

The neckline was higher than she'd feared. Her collarbones were covered. The cap sleeves sat neat on her shoulders. She ground her teeth as she examined it further. The fabric hugged her chest, her breasts clearly defined. She wondered if she'd be able to wear a bra with it and her nipples hardened in response. She turned slightly and caught the line of her own bare back in the mirror. She pressed her thighs together and turned away, opening the door before she could change her mind.

"Oh, honey." The female clerk's hand came up to her chest. "Look at you."

Mei stepped into the hallway. Bare feet on thin carpet.

"You're going to turn every head in that room, I'm telling you." She nodded to Nathan, sitting next to her. His eyes were wide, and he'd gone still. "Your husband certainly agrees."

Nathan didn't correct her.

He didn't say anything for a second. Mei watched him, waiting for his reaction. His hands were at his sides, but she watched as his gaze traveled over her body. First at her hips, then her chest. He wet his lips.

Mei felt heat pooling low in her stomach. She stopped breathing as a faint pulse began to grow between her legs. Her throat constricted. She tore her eyes away, meaning to look to the floor. Instead, they crawled across his body. Her knees nearly buckled as she saw the unmistakable hardness between his legs. Was that because of her?

"It's a beautiful dress, Mei."

She heard the words, and knew it was Nathan's voice. But she didn't dare look up. Her eyes stayed trained to the floor as she quickly retreated back to the dressing room.

The moment she got the door latched she pressed her back to it. Her chest was rising and falling too fast. She pressed her palm flat against her sternum like she could slow it from the outside.

She looked up.

She barely recognized herself. Her cheeks were flushed, her hair had slipped loose on one side, and her mouth was open just enough for her breath to move through it. She kept waiting for her mother's voice. To call her a whore, to tell her to cover up. That proper women don't get reactions like that from men who aren't their husband. Nothing came. Just her, and the dress, and the way she was looking at herself.

Her breathing slowed. Her eyes moved across herself the way Nathan's had. Her hips, her chest, her throat. The pulse between her legs intensified. A small part of her, one she would never talk about, wanted to go back out there. Wanted to see his reaction again.

She tore her eyes away and reached for the zipper. Her hands were shaking now. She needed to get home. She needed Ethan. She needed his hands on her, his mouth on her, she needed him inside her.

She gasped at the thought, at how loud it had been, and yanked her shirt over her head before the woman in the mirror could answer back.

CHAPTER 7 — CHOICE POINT

The drive home was quiet. Nathan had made idle conversation for the first five minutes, but Mei barely heard him. Her responses were short, clipped. The red dress sat in a garment bag behind her seat. The presence of it setting her blood to lava. She couldn't remember that last time she was this aroused. She didn't dare look at Nathan, afraid of where her gaze may land, or worse, what it might do to her. She just needed to get home.

Fueled by guilt, arousal, and confusion she practically bursts through her front door.

The Decision

PATH ONE: THE SURROGATE

"I don't know what came over me. I just needed him."

Mei doesn't give Ethan a chance to speak. The second she comes in the door she pushes him onto the sofa and takes him. She doesn't bother with the lights, or the blinds. She rides him hard and fast, her eyes locked on his. She tries not to think about Nathan, about how he looked at her, about how his body reacted to seeing her. It's the most aggressive sex of their marriage, driven by a hunger Mei doesn't mention.

PATH TWO: THE STAR

"You want to see me? Tell me how."

She pulls him upstairs, discarding clothes before he can get a word out. In the bedroom, Ethan finds his voice. He tells her about the position he wants to try and how it will help the video if they make it. Mei doesn't even hesitate, she asks how he wants her? She poses on her hands and knees, feeding off the look he's giving her, the same look Nathan had.

PATH THREE: THE CRACKED DOOR

"I want him to find me like this."

The arousal doesn't have anywhere to go. Mei walks past Ethan in the kitchen, says she needs a minute, and goes upstairs alone. In the bedroom, she undresses completely and thinks, for the first time in years, about Kyle's apartment. The roommate's door cracked open. She lies back on the bed and works herself with two fingers, listening for Ethan's footsteps on the stairs. Every creak of the floorboards downstairs makes her wetter. She wants him to find her like this. To watch her cum.