Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86857 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 290(@300wpm)
“You didn’t answer my question,” he says.
“You didn’t answer mine.”
He grins. “Okay. I sense you’re angry because you paced my office for ten minutes before sitting down. You announced your engagement with no enthusiasm. And you’re picking a hole in the arm of that chair.”
I stop my fidgeting and frown at the tiny hole I made. “I had lunch with my mom, Colten’s mom, and his daughter. And while Colten’s mom stroked his daughter’s long hair, I imagined what she would look like without that hair. Then, I imagined what she would look like dead. So yeah … that has me a little agitated.”
“And that’s the reason for the new hairdo?”
My lips twist. “No. I did that because I tried to pull my hair out while I was in the bathroom failing miserably at composing myself.”
“Are you having more visions or dreams?”
“Yes.”
“Do you want to share them?”
“Last night, I woke up after seeing one of the girls foaming at the mouth. I poisoned the girls.”
He squints. “Are you sure?”
“Sure? No. I’m clearly not sure about anything. But it fits. I was a chemist. That’s what I found on the internet. Most poisons come from soil, and the parapsychologist insists the girls died from earth.”
“What if we keep a separation? Refer to him as Winston Jeffries instead of you.”
“Now, you sound like Colten.”
“I’m trying to keep things straight because we are discussing two lives. Winston Jeffries and Josephine Watts. I need to know that when you’re saying I, you’re referring to something in this life. That’s all. Okay?”
I nod, folding my hands on my lap so they don’t destroy anything else today.
“Cyanide?” he asks.
“Perhaps. Or Strychnine.”
“It’s another piece to the puzzle you can share with the authorities.”
“I’m sure they’re working hard on this century-old crime.” I roll my eyes.
“Then let’s address your fears.”
“What am I afraid of?”
“Maybe hurting someone? Hurting Colten’s daughter? But you must remember that thoughts are just that … thoughts. You imagined things about her, but did you actively want those things to happen to her?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Then let’s talk about ways for you to practice self-awareness and mindfulness. You’ve already identified your negative thoughts. Now let’s work on replacing them with something that is true or realistic. What makes you feel good?”
“Sex with Colten.”
Terrance gives me a small nod but averts his gaze to his notebook.
“When these awful thoughts come into my head, I should replace them with thoughts about having sex with Colten?”
“Sure.” He clears his throat. “If it’s appropriate. If you’re with friends or family or at work, it might not be the appropriate redirect. Maybe think of your favorite food.”
“Colten’s cock.”
Terrance eyes me.
I return a toothy grin. “Kidding.”
“Fuck you, Josie.”
I bark a laugh. This laugh alone is worth every penny of our session. “Are you allowed to say that to a patient?”
He pours himself a glass of water. “Every case is different. Sometimes I have to be unconventional.”
“And there’s nothing conventional about me?”
He sips his water. “You already know the answer to that.”
“Okay. So think happy thoughts. That’s what you’ve got for me today?”
“Replace negative thoughts. I’m not saying you have to think happy thoughts all day. We have thousands of thoughts go through our mind every day; most of them are neither happy nor sad. Think of all the thoughts we have about mundane tasks that we do. I also don’t want you thought-stopping.”
“What’s that?”
“It’s looking for negative thoughts so you can stop them. It means you’re subjecting yourself to anxiety by anticipating negative thoughts. Deal with them only when they happen. Don’t anticipate them happening. But when they do, redirect your thinking to—”
“Sex with Colten. Got it.”
Terrance blows a breath out of his nose. No smile. “The goal is to make this automatic. And eventually, you might notice less and less of these negative thoughts. You can also try guided meditation at night. Or you can take a dopamine blocker.”
“I’m not taking antipsychotic drugs again.”
He nods. “I understand.” He glances at his watch. “Time’s up.”
On my way home, Colten calls me.
“How was therapy?”
“How did you know I was at therapy?”
“I’m tracking your phone. I set that up when I set up your ringtone. I can’t get you to the altar if I can’t find you.”
“Mmm … I don’t know if I buy that.”
“So what did Dr. Birdie say?”
“Dr. Byrd. And he said I need to have more sex and think about it as often as possible. I realize you have a demanding job, so I might have to recruit some help.”
“I’m not laughing.”
“Me neither. I hate those dating apps, but if I just stick to random hookups and don’t fret over meeting for dinner first, it will be easier.”
“Still not laughing.”
“Really? That one was a little funny. Where are you?”
“I just got home.”
“Helping your mom make dinner?”
“My mom took Reagan to a movie.”