Melanie

My hands feel clammy as I push open the door to the Juke Joint, the familiar scent of stale beer and cigarette smoke assaulting my senses. I scan the dimly lit room, searching for Daniel's therapist, but there's no one who stands out as a professional among the patrons. Honestly, I'm not even sure what I'm supposed to be looking for. Should I be expecting someone in a suit, carrying a clipboard? I should've asked Jessica for a description, but it's too late for that now.

I shuffle nervously to a nearby table and take a seat, my eyes darting around the room. There's no woman sitting alone, so none of these people could be Daniel's therapist, right? I sigh and shrug off my coat, draping it over the chair next to me, and place my phone on the table in front of me, hoping to appear casual despite the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest.

As I glance around the bar, memories of last week flood my mind, the images of Daniel slumped over the bar, his words slurred and desperate, haunting me. The bartender catches my eye, and for a moment, I wonder if he recognizes me, if he remembers that night. Is he gesturing for me to come over? I quickly snap my head away, unwilling to entertain the idea of engaging in small talk with a stranger, especially not now.

I try to distract myself by focusing on the familiar surroundings of the bar. The neon signs flicker overhead, casting an eerie glow over the room, and the jukebox in the corner emits a low hum as it plays a melancholy tune. The air is thick with the sounds of muffled conversations and clinking glasses, but underneath it all, there's an undercurrent of tension that I can't shake.

I close my eyes and take a deep breath. The door creaks open, and I look at it expectantly.  Woah, this cannot be Daniel's therapist; a fiery redhead walks in, with pale grey eyes, her body resembling an hourglass. A true bombshell, with smokey eyes and a tight short black dress that hugs her curves, paired with heels that accentuate her long legs. I quickly avert my gaze, feeling a surge of discomfort. This is definitely not Jessica.

I wring my hands nervously, trying to quell the rising unease in my chest. When is Daniel's therapist coming? I sure hope she doesn't cancel on me last minute. 

But to my surprise, the redhead strides over and stands in front of me, offering a warm smile.

"Hello, Melanie," she says, her voice smooth and confident.

I blink, caught off guard. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" I ask, my confusion evident.

The redhead takes a seat across from me, her gaze steady. "I'm Jessica," she says simply.

My eyes widen in realization, and I feel a mixture of relief and disbelief wash over me. Jessica? This stunning woman is Daniel's therapist? It's unexpected, to say the least.

I stammer, still trying to process the everything. "You... you're Daniel's therapist?"

Jessica laughs lightly, her demeanor relaxed as she raises a hand to signal the waitress.

As the waitress approaches, Jessica turns her gaze to me, and I feel her eyes raking over me, assessing. It makes me squirm in my seat, a wave of discomfort washing over me. We stay silent until the waitress comes to take our order.

Jessica orders a whiskey without hesitation, and I'm baffled by her choice. When the waitress turns to me, I quickly blurt out, "I'll have an iced tea, please."

But Jessica interjects smoothly, "Make it a Long Island iced tea for her."

I furrow my brow, taken aback. "I... I don't want alcohol," I protest weakly.

Jessica's gaze hardens slightly, her tone firm. "Trust me, Melanie," she says, her voice carrying a hint of insistence. "You're going to need it."

Feeling uneasy, I watch as Jessica gestures for the waitress to leave, then leans back in her chair and retrieves a pack of cigarettes from her purse. I watch her as she delicately extracts one, lighting it with slow, deliberate movements.

Jessica takes a long drag of her cigarette, the smoke curling around her as she exhales slowly, her gaze never leaving mine. There's a subtle intensity in her eyes that makes me uneasy, like she's sizing me up, analyzing my every move.

"So, Melanie," she begins, her tone measured. "What did you want to talk about?"

I swallow nervously, gathering my thoughts. "Well, as I told you on the phone," I start, my voice trembling slightly, "Daniel has been spiraling since... since we broke up." I glance away briefly before meeting Jessica's eyes again. "And while I appreciate all the work you've done with him, I really do, I just... I don't feel like he's ready for a relationship."

Jessica smiles cryptically at me, a glint of something unreadable in her eyes. "All the work I've done with Daniel, huh?" she muses.

I nod earnestly. "Yeah, he's changed a lot, but honestly, I feel like he needs to work more on himself."

"And how did you find my number, Melanie?" she inquires, her tone curious.

I feel heat rising to my cheeks as I fidget nervously. "Well, Daniel mentioned that his therapist's name is Jessica," I confess, "so I tried to find you through the internet. But you weren't any of the therapists that showed up in the search results, so... I took your number from Daniel's phone."

Jessica's lips twitch into a knowing smile, clearly amused by my resourcefulness. She takes another drag of her cigarette before speaking. "You're sure sly, Melanie," she remarks, her tone tinged with amusement.

I let out a sigh, feeling a mixture of embarrassment and relief. "I felt like I didn't have a choice," I explain, "we need to work together to help Daniel accept the breakup."

Jessica nods in understanding, her gaze steady. "Are you sure about the breakup, Melanie?" she asks, her voice gentle yet probing.

I meet her eyes, my resolve firm. "Yes, I am," I affirm without hesitation.

She raises an eyebrow, her expression searching. "And there's no possibility that you'll change your mind in the future?" she presses.

I shake my head adamantly. "No, there isn't," I assure her, my tone resolute.

Jessica nods in acknowledgment, her demeanor calm as she takes another drag of her cigarette. The smoke swirls around her as she exhales, and she nods again, almost to herself. "Good, good," she murmurs.

Just then, the waitress arrives, setting a glass of whiskey in front of Jessica and a Long Island iced tea in front of me. I hesitate for a moment before taking a long swig, the cool liquid soothing my frayed nerves slightly.

"You were right, Jessica," I admit, feeling a bit sheepish. "I did need this after all."

Jessica sets down her glass, her gaze piercing as she looks at me. "What do you mean?" she asks, her tone curious.

I shift uncomfortably in my seat, feeling a bit exposed under her scrutiny. "I just... I felt really anxious about meeting you," I confess, my voice barely above a whisper.

Jessica laughs softly, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Oh, babygirl," she says, her tone almost patronizing, "we're not even in the hard part yet."

My mouth goes dry at her words, a sense of unease settling in the pit of my stomach. "What do you mean?" I ask, my voice trembling slightly. "What's the hard part? Is there something wrong with Daniel?"

Jessica's tone turns serious, and her words cut through the air like a knife. "Honestly, Melanie, for a smart girl, you're definitely gullible," she says bluntly.

I'm taken aback by her sudden change in demeanor, my mind racing to make sense of her words. "What do you mean?" I stammer, feeling a knot of confusion forming in my stomach.

Jessica gestures at herself with a hint of exasperation. "Do I look like a therapist to you?" she asks pointedly.

I hesitate, feeling a pang of guilt. "Well, when I first saw you, I was sure you weren't Daniel's therapist," I admit reluctantly, "but I didn't want to judge based on appearances."

Jessica rolls her eyes in exasperation. "Fucking political correctness," she mutters, frustration evident in her tone. "Melanie, I'm not Daniel's fucking therapist. We are fuck buddies, okay? Daniel has been cheating on you all this time."

My heart sinks as Jessica's words sink in, a wave of disbelief washing over me. "No, that's not true," I mumble, my voice barely audible.

But Jessica's expression remains resolute. "It is true, Melanie," she insists, her tone firm. "Daniel has been lying to you all this time, and he didn't only cheat on you with me."

Tears prick at the corners of my eyes as I struggle to comprehend the betrayal. "You're lying," I choke out, my voice trembling with emotion.

Jessica shakes her head, her gaze unwavering. "I'm not," she says calmly, her tone devoid of emotion. "And I can prove it."