SUGAR

03 - Candy

“She was f*****g hot, Man. I have to give her that” Simon, my best friend, and co-therapist said and I couldn’t help but think back to the beautiful lady. She looked like she was dipped in chocolate and gold. Her legs could go on forever, her eyes were entrancing, and her accent was too sexy to be ignored

“She married?” He asked again, and I glared at him before dropping the wine glass on the table.

“Yes, she’s f*****g married to a sixty-four-year-old man” I clenched my jaws, and suddenly, I felt Simon spit all of his wine on my shirt.

“What the hell, Simon?” I growled

“Yeah! What the f*****g hell?! She didn’t strike me as a gold digger” He picked a napkin and wiped his mouth.

“I’m leaving, I’ll see you on Monday” I grabbed my car keys from his kitchen island and walked out of his house. My phone chimed as I got to the stairs. I picked it up and pressed it to my ears, simultaneously walking to the garage.

“Dr. Romanov, who am I speaking with?”

“Hello, Dr. Romanov” That voice again. Bells chimed in my ears, and a small smile crept onto my face.

“Sewa”

“Just call me Mrs. Barnes. I will need you to send me your account details as I have not received any message from Dr. Miracle.”

“Sure”

“Thank you. Goo-”

“When will you be coming again?” I quickly interrupted her, feeling quite bold

“I beg your pardon?”

“When will we have our next session?”

“Oh, wow. I thought I made it clear. You, Mr. Romanov, are quite rude, unprofessional, and uncaring about the feelings of your clients. I will not be needing your services anymore.”

“f**k! One more chance?” I stopped right in front of my car with the phone pressed to my ear.

“One more chance to disrespect me? No, sir. That will not be happening.”

“Look! Sewa, I’m sorry, and I admit that I made a mistake. I was quick to judge…even if it wasn’t my place. But you’re a beautiful and young woman…I wasn't even expecting-“

“I’ll see you at your office tomorrow. 10 pm” I air pumped excitedly before nodding furiously

“Yes! Yes!”

“I will be anticipating your message,” she said with a sigh, and I chuckled

“Yes ma’am.”

*******

Again, I lost my knowledge of how to speak. She was dressed in a jean skirt and a white shirt that was almost see through. Her shoulders were exposed, and I could imagine planting soft kisses right up her neck.

“No bodyguards today?” I grinned, and there was almost a smile on her face.

“Not today, Mr. Romanov,” I nodded, and she took her seat right where she sat yesterday.

“How are you doing today?”

“I’m doing well.”

“Can you tell me your usual morning routine?”

“Of course, I wake up by 7 and make breakfast-” I watched as her lips moved, but I could only imagine how they would taste.

‘I bet she would look so beautiful while sleeping,’ I thought to myself. Would her sugar daddy wake her up with kisses trailing down those full breasts? I doubt that.

“omanov?” my eyes snapped away from her breasts, and I sighed.

“Yeah. When did you find out that you had depression?”

“When I was fifteen or thereabout.”

“Any possible triggers?” I asked, feeling genuinely concerned. Fifteen is such a tender age to be diagnosed with depression or even be triggered by anything that could cause depression.

“Not really. I was disowned by my parents” she looked unbothered, and I couldn’t tell if she was faking it.

“You don’t seem bothered by this?” she looked at me before laughing genuinely. Either that or she has mastered the art of laughing like it is genuine. It was a pretty laugh.

“I’m not. It’s been like eight years, and I am satisfied where I am. I couldn’t ask for any more” she shrugged and I almost scoffed.

“How have you coped with all these years?”

“My husband has always helped me out. Pep talks and even the littlest things. He would go above and beyond to ensure that I’m fine so I really don’t understand why he needs me to come for therapy” she spat angrily, and I almost laughed at how cute she looked.

“If he sent you here then he probably doesn’t want you to rely on him.”

“But I want to. He has always been there and no offense but I doubt that there is anything any therapist can do that he can’t.”

“He’s probably going to die soon. Heart attack kind of die” I muttered and wrote down my observations of her

“Did you say something?”

“Oh, no. Don’t worry about me,” I grinned, and she gave me an awkward look before looking away.

“Let us talk about your family now. Is that something you’re comfortable with?”

“Sure”

“Good. Tell me whatever comes to your mind about your family” She hummed

“Where do I start? We were a family of seven. My mom, dad, two elder sisters, and two elder brothers. We were all really close until my dad lost his job and probably thought drugs and gambling would help him out. I mean yeah, sometimes the gambling paid well…like really well even better than the job he lost. He was never abusive, and he always paid attention to us but good things that are gotten without hard work never last. He lost a whole lot of money, and we lost everything” she shrugged, and I studied her movements and face to see if she was affected or not. It didn’t seem like she was.

“Go on,” I urged her, and she sighed.

“We lost our house and everything else, so we had to go stay at our Aunt Lara’s house. You know these Yoruba aunts. They will always have something to say. We stayed there for about a year, and it was unbearable, at least for my parents and siblings. My aunt and uncle always took care of me. I had a separate room –unlike the other that slept in the basement. One day, they accused my eldest brother of stealing. No one could believe it because Kola, my brother, always stood for positive behaviors. He hated liars, thieves, manipulators and so my parents had to search for somewhere else to stay. They said managed to find a cheap house in some street full of touts, but at least they had a roof over their heads.”

“They?” I asked, and she raked her nails through her hair.

“They left me with my aunt and uncle.”

“Okay,” I nodded, waiting patiently for her to continue, and I knew that I wasn’t going to like what I would hear.

“They were abusive. After my parents had left, they never called or visited. I was beaten every night, every morning, with anything they could lay their eyes on, and for the smallest things” She whispered, deep in thought

“I ran away when I was fourteen and found my parents. They had been living so well without me. They had a huge mansion, cars, money! Everything! They said a soothsayer told them that they will continue to be cursed if I stayed with them and that my father got his job back as soon as they stayed away from me. I told them everything Aunt Lara, and her husband did, and they disowned me” she laughed at the final statement, but it was obviously a cover-up for the emotions. I reached out and placed my hand on hers that sat on the table.

“Sewa, you do not have to pretend to be happy. I am your therapist. I’m here to listen to you talk. To listen to you cry and laugh genuinely. I will not judge you because we all have our own pasts” she blinked at me a few times, and I could see the tears forming in her eyes. She blinked faster, and I didn’t even know what to do.

“I was r***d” my jaw dropped, and the waterworks began