I got the report from that speech therapist you asked about. Do you want to see it? he asks, and I agree. He extends his phone to me, and I start looking.
Every two seconds, a message from some slut popped up. That irritated him so much, having me hold his phone, and his breathing was already so heavy, that even with his phone still in my hand, he turned off the internet so the messages would stop coming.
It is fine, I am just looking at the report, I say. Sophia was sitting on my lap, playing with the objects I had brought, while I sat cross-legged, holding her.
What did you think? he asks, feeling awkward. You could tell his plans were shaken, whatever those plans regarding me might have been.
Weak. I think you need to find a different speech therapist. This one hasn't made any progr
