From Russia, With Love...Part 3

“I want to go home.” He looked down at the rug of his therapist’s office. It was an ugly blue color. The whole office was very, very boring. He looked over at her. She was a tall, thin woman with mousy brown hair and grey eyes. She was stern and a bit masculine and she intimidated him a bit, but she was very intelligent and was helping him out a lot, so he kept working with her.
“You’re not ready to go home yet.”
“I don’t know how much more I can take of this. I miss her every day. I want to talk to her so badly. I want to see my son…I have not seen him since I leave there. I want to hold him, talk to him, play with him. I want to hold her.” He looked away because he didn’t want to show her that his eyes were filling with tears.
“When was the last time you spoke with Renae?”
“The last time I speak to her was when I get my first appointment with you and that was six months ago. I have not speak to her since then, and it is killing me inside.” She wrote down notes on her pad. He hated when she did that; it made him feel like an experiment. Then she looked over at him, her grey eyes piercing him.
“Do you want her to come in next week?” He didn’t even have to think.
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
“Good. I think it is important for her to know how much progress you are making.”
The hour was finally over, and he walked out of the office out into the rain. He sat down in the driver’s seat of his car and pulled out his phone. Her number was already there, ready to be dialed, but he canceled it before he could press ‘send’. He just wasn’t ready yet. Perhaps when he got home he would be ready.