Miss Jackson {b.u.}

{80}

I sat in the chair across from her. My hands clasped, resting in my lap. My purse set beside the chair. My attention only at the window. I hadn't uttered a single word and neither has she. I didn't know why Brendon ever thought it was a good idea—or why he even convinced me to go to therapy. It was pointless, "Mrs. Urie, this is our third meeting together and you still have yet to speak about anything."

I shrugged, "why should I talk to you about how I feel if I have family to do that with?"

Dr. Saul interlocked her fingers, then set them on her desk and leaned forward, "it's to get a deeper understanding of the way you feel, Mrs. Urie. You're only here because your husband wants to see you improve in your mental health."

I looked at her, my tongue grazing against my molars. I took a deep breath, "i'm fine."

Dr. Saul leaned back and opened a file. I raised an eyebrow and sat back in my seat, "you recently lost your mom?"

I glared at her. Dr. Saul nodded her head and set the file down, "you have been through a lot, Joanne. You were abused by your ex-boyfriend and hes put you in the hospital. You almost died...twice. You have trauma and you need to accept it. You have not had it easy."

I gulped. I was stuck between telling her everything and telling her nothing at the same time. I looked around the room and tapped my foot on the floor, "i don't worry about that stuff."

Dr. Saul crossed her arms, "why not?"

I pressed my lips together and jerked my head back. I looked down at my fingers and played with them, "'Cause of Brendon."

The room fell silent for a few short moments. I kept looking down at my fingers, "seems he's done a lot for you. Talk to me about him."

I let a small huff out of my nose. I smiled softly and glanced up at Dr. Saul, who seemed to really want to hear all about Brendon, "he is...no doubt, the best guy I could've gotten," I began and laughed a bit, "he's...how do you describe, perfect?"

Brendon:
I sat in the interview chair. I sat back, my hands slightly resting on my thighs. I cleared. my throat, waiting for the next set of questions. I worried about Joanne and how she was doing in therapy. She said sessions had been going well and they've been talking about a lot, which is great because she needs this, "so, the internet is...crazy about your wife, how does it make you feel? Are you proud?"

I nodded my head slowly and smiled softly at the thought of her, "I am. I am very proud. She has come by so much...has survived a lot and uhm—wow," I began and looked up at him, "I could go on about her."

The interviewer crossed his arms and nodded his head, "please continue."

I looked down at my hands and began playing with the loose string that was coming off of my ripped jeans, "shes just...how do I describe perfect?" I began and shook my head, "her gentleness and—and selflessness. That beautiful, eye-catching smile. Her goofiness."

The interviewer smiled and leaned forward a bit, "so shes one hundred percent authentic? We see her as you do everyday, right?"

I smirked and nodded, "yeah. And thats what I love about her. Shes not a phony. The way she does whatever the hell she wants..and I always thought to myself, you know, i'm never going to find someone as beautiful, talented, comforting as the woman I married and have children with. Its a beautiful experience being in love with her."

Joanne:
I walked around the room, just rambling on about Brendon and everything good about him. Dr. Saul watched me, keeping her ears glued onto me, "and he dropped his own life. His own life for me."