2. Dr. Quentin Long
Dr. Quentin Long
“Good morning,” I said to Shareese as I walked through the office doors and looked around at the waiting room, which had three patients. Being late wasn’t my thing, but I don’t know how the hell I managed to turn my alarm off and oversleep this morning.
“Morning, Dr. Long,” she said with a bright smile that I knew she only had plastered on her face because we weren’t there alone. Like she hadn’t just sent me the craziest messages this morning when she couldn’t reach me.
Last night marked the beginning of my first week on call, and I underestimated the responsibility it would be. Somehow, I wound up being on the phone for two hours before the caller accepted my safety plan and agreed to a follow-up call tonight.
Although I was qualified, I had never handled a crisis. After last night though, he would need to find a replacement for me, too.
After putting my things down, I made my way over to the computer to check the schedule. Two 30-minute sessions came first, followed by Breeze and her husband at 11.
Going to their case file, I pulled their case notes and sent Shareese a message to send the couple waiting in the reception area back.
The first two sessions were smooth. The first was normal marriage counseling, no major issues, just a couple who prefer to have someone guide them.
The second was a woman going through issues with her mother.
I was thankful for the transition from chaotic to smooth sailing.
But I knew things would be shaking up the moment that Breeze walked through the door.
Eleven rolled in, making an hour feel like five minutes. The doorknob turned, and Breeze entered with her husband. She wore a purple pants set and black heels, looking like a fine ass grape.
I was silently amused at the thought as I shook both their hands and offered them a seat on the couch. She cuddled next to him, hand on his knee. They leaned into each other instead of away. All good signs.
I always began each note with how the couple appears, so I jotted it down before officially starting the session.
“Nice to see you all again, how has it been going?” I asked.
“Good,” Mr. Thompson answered.
“Fine.” Breeze followed up.
“Great, I gave you all homework over the course of the last week, and I told you that if you have any emotions or questions that you want to explore, let’s discuss them in this session. Before we get into our group assignment, were there any concerns?” I asked.
“Yep,” Mr. Thompson said. Admittedly, it made me break character and Breeze laugh. She shook her head because she knew this nigga was about to air her out again.
“Okay…” I waited for him to pull out his list again. It seems like every time we did one of these exercises, he found out something about her that he didn’t know.
“One of the exercises opened the discussion for the things that we didn’t explore in the twenty-four hours, that we would still like to do.” As soon as he said that, she shrank again. But he continued.
“Mine was a threesome, again, I know my wife is not attracted to women. She said she would still be willing to watch but didn’t want to be involved that way.
That’s cool. So, then she tells me that she doesn’t feel like she’s explored all of her kinks.
Like degradation and being watched. I’m trying to be open-minded about it, but that one feels like it might be out of my range. I ain’t gone hold you,” He chuckled.
She just slowly shook her head as he talked. I fought hard to hold my amusement this time.
“Understood. Mrs. Thompson, you care to elaborate for Mr. Thompson?” I pushed.
“Ummm, he says it’s disrespectful. But I think he’s confused about what I mean. I’m not asking him to slap me and stomp me out. Just sprinkle a little profanity every now and again in the place of ‘beautiful’ or ‘baby’. That’s all.”
“Do you receive that?” I asked him.
“Yeah, but I still don’t think I could do it.” He admitted.
“Okay, this is actually great for discussion. What I’m hearing is the boundary shifting as you learn more about your desires. Mrs. Thompson, do you understand that you may like something that your husband is uncomfortable with?”
“Yes,” she answered softly.
“Mr. Thompson, do you understand that your desire to be with two women who are intimate with each other as well may never happen with your wife?”
“Yeah,” he responded.
“Great. What does this mean for you if your needs or desires are left unmet? Is it something you can continue to live without exploring?” I asked.
“I’m going to be real. If it were an ultimatum, like either you do this or you have me. I’d pick my wife hands down, but it’s something I still want to do.” He responded.
“I can agree with that. If I had to live without it, I could.” She added.
I nodded and recorded their response. Again, looking at their body language after a raw discussion, neither of them shifted from the other. Still exhibiting safety and connection.
“I asked you all to answer three questions for your session. If you have those sealed envelopes, I would like for you all to read them to me now.” I said once I finished writing down their responses.
“Mrs. Thompson, I want you to start first,” I said, because I noticed that Breeze let Timothy answer the majority of the questions first. Whoever speaks first normally sets the emotional tone and gives the other partner the chance to adjust their answer. Even if they don’t mean to.
“Sure. Why am I choosing this marriage today? The same reason why I’ve chosen my husband every day.
Because I couldn’t imagine life without him in it.
I feel safe, loved, valued, and understood.
What am I willing to sacrifice? The unknown.
I’d be willing to forego everything that I could have possibly missed out on having if it means keeping what I have right now.
What do I need? Him to be more spontaneous.
” She said as she closed the paper, placed it in her lap, then looked up at me.
“Let’s hold the responses for now. Mr. Thompson, read yours.” I urged.
“I’m choosing my marriage because I love you more than anything. I can’t imagine living the rest of my life knowing you ain’t my wife. What would I sacrifice? Everything. No questions asked, without a doubt. And what do I need? You to be comfortable talking to me about the things you want.”
I wrote as fast as I could, recording their answers before I looked up, and also noted that the answers to the questions were almost identical.
“Neither of you mentioned the arrangements in your responses, which means that you all want to stay married by any means. Maybe the focal point of therapy should be that. Mrs. Thompson, you said that you wanted these exercises to help you reach a decision. Have you gotten any closer to doing so?” I asked.
“Yep. Just a moment ago, actually.” She said as she finally sat straight up. Moving away from him on the couch.
“I welcome your take,” I waited for her to say what she had on her mind.
“When you asked if we could live without it. The answer is easily yes, if we have to. But I don’t think we have to.
Tim should be free to have girls do whatever they want to him and each other while he sips a beer and watches the Cleveland Browns, and I could explore my desires just as freely.
We’ve already survived what would have broken most marriages.
But I think we should do it with stipulations. ”
Hell, she had both of our curiosities piqued because neither of us said anything. Just waited for her to finish that thought.
“I think we should have the choice to have a solo experience once, maybe…. twice a year. Guilt-free. Real planning, real preparation. And not twenty-four hours. A realistic time frame. Because unless you’re on those gas station pills, then it just doesn’t make sense from a physical standpoint.
A weekend for sure. Neither of us has to, but there’ll be no hard feelings if one chooses not to and the other still goes.
Needs and desires are ever-changing. We could satisfy those that way. ”
Her husband didn’t say a word. He just stared at her with a blank expression.
I noticed that he always let her lead on conversations about the arrangements, and I knew why.
She wasn’t necessarily calling the shots.
He was just in murky territory. If he was too eager, he was the bad guy.
His silence was calculated, not a sign of submission.
I wrote down the requirements she said.
“Does this have an expiration date? How do you know when enough is enough?” I subtly reminded Breeze of her concern about it being long-term.
She wasn’t prepared for that question. I could see it written on her face. But then she thought about it, eyes going around the office until they landed back on me.
“When we decide to be parents, I couldn’t imagine leaving a kid with the nanny while we go out and do stuff like this.” She shrugged.
Nodding, I diverted my gaze to her husband. “What about you? Are you okay with the experience? Do you have anything to add?”
“Yeah, I’m okay. But nah, I don’t have anything to add.” He shook his head like I imagined he would. His wife just told him it was okay for him to have a threesome every year. How could he argue with that? But I had to extend him the same courtesy I would extend her, with a follow-up question.
“Are you okay because you don’t want to feel like you’re limiting what Mrs. Thompson wants, or are you okay because this is also what you want?” I asked.
“Nah, I said it’s okay because I want it too, but I’m also not going to pressure her into anything.” He made it clear. Even when he said it, I could see his shoulders straighten. He was confident in his answer. It almost confirmed what I knew to be true.
I glanced down at the clock. There were four minutes left until the session ended.
“Understood. We’re nearing the end of the session.
Here’s what we’re not going to do today.
You’re not deciding on terms, you’re not agreeing to timelines, none of that.
Especially not for a decision made on the spur of the moment during the session.
If you can devote another week to sitting on it before making a decision, then I think that’s best. You don’t have to schedule another session, unless you feel you need to.
But this waiting period is strictly for the two of you. ”
Breeze picked up her purse from her side and glanced at her husband. He slid to the end of the sofa, stood, and helped her up.
“We can do that, appreciate it,” he said, extending his hand, and I took it.
Then Breeze did the same, “Thank you again, Dr. Long.”
“No problem. Before you go. I’d like to keep the answers to those questions for your file, if that’s alright.”
Timothy nodded and handed his over immediately. Breeze hesitated, just a second longer than necessary, and then handed hers over to me, too.
“Thank you,” I said, sliding them into my notepad, and watched as they walked out the door hand in hand.
The alarm rang just as the door closed, and I silenced it and clicked the calendar. I was thankful that my next session wasn’t for another thirty minutes. That could at least slow me down from the morning rush and give me a chance to log some of my observations while they were still fresh.
Sitting in my chair, I opened the first piece of paper; it was from Mr. Thompson. It was exactly what I had expected, short and careful answers.
I skimmed over it and placed it aside.
Then I unfolded Breeze’s.
At first glance, it mirrored what she had read aloud. Same questions and same structure. But halfway down, I noticed something that she had omitted. It wasn’t crossed out, wasn’t erased; she just simply did not say it out loud. Her response to What I need.
One line caused me to pause. Her response was. “I need respect to wait in the hallway while we’re in the bedroom.”
Of course you do, baby, I laughed out loud and folded it back.
I sat back in the chair and tapped the pen on my desk. That one line didn’t have anything to do with rules or desires. That came from her memory. She knew exactly why she had written it, and it was the same reason why she chose not to read it out loud.
I slid their notes to the side and started going back into my digital files from the first couple of the day. But somehow my mind kept drifting back to B.
The physical reaction my body had when I did, made me shake my head in disbelief.
It’s been almost a year since the night that we spent together.
And we had gone almost just as long without seeing each other.
The fact that she could still walk into a room and cause my dick to get hard at just the thought of her had even me confused, but it was the reality.
Thumbing through the pages of my notes, I fought to get my mind together and my body to follow suit. By the time I finished my notes, it was almost time to see the 12:30 patient. Out of curiosity, I clicked Thompson’s profile and selected their appointments tab. They hadn’t scheduled another one.
That was interesting, but I wasn’t going to dwell on it.
Before seeing her at the coffee shop a month ago, I didn’t think that she would ever sit across from me again.
Now, two sessions deep, she had awakened some shit I tried to let go.
Maybe disappearing again would be the solution.
It wasn’t her absence that bothered me; it was being in her presence and knowing that I couldn’t have her bent over, calling my name, creaming on my dick, that did.