Love Therapy (GxG)

11

"Jamie! It's so good to see you!"

Jamie glares at me, unamused. She walks past me and straight into my apartment. She has already taken her coat off when she speaks again.

"Don't you dare, sissy! I've called you. Many times. I was scared. When I learned that Sofia worked for you I couldn't understand why you didn't tell me."

She's already rambling, ten seconds after seeing me for the first time in a couple of months.

Diego, my sister's husband, addresses me an apologetic smile before kissing my cheek, and following his wife inside.

As I close the door, I hear Jamie exploding again.

"You didn't even call back on my 39th birthday!"

I roll my eyes internally, and join Sofia's parents in my living room.

If Jamie Alexander hadn't been twelve years older than me, we could've practically passed as twins. We have the same blue eyes, pale skin, and dark hair, hers cut just above her shoulders while mine falls in waves down my back. She has the same slender figure I guess she had when she fell in love with Diego, before I was born.

We've been graced with great Gene's, I must admit it.

Her husband, Diego Perez, has a kind of charm I never thought I'd see in a man. He is quiet, next to his loud and imposing wife, but every word that comes out of his mouth is well-thought. His dark eyes are full of wisdom, like a very old man, though he's just 42 and has no white hair.

I offer them a cup of tea, and they both accept, which gives me the opportunity to gain back my composure as I wander around in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil.

Soon enough, Jamie joins me in the kitchen.

"How've you been, Dee?"

I hate that nickname.

"Don't call me that, you know I hate it."

As I pour the hot water in three mugs, I hear my sister sigh next to me. "So, how've you been, Diana," she says sternly, and I don't even think it's a question anymore. "Tell me about you're new job?"

Suddenly, I can't lie to her. I can't say I've been good, and life's great, as I say when I occasionally pick up the phone to call her (not more than once a year).

I feel like I owe her to tell her, even though she wouldn't understand.

"It's hard. It's my first year as a therapist, and I can tell you, all those years of study didn't prepare me for that."

Her gaze doesn't drop from mine, and I realize how much my sister and I are different, even though we practically look the same. Her eyes hold emotions, they show how complex of a woman she is. While mine, when I look at myself in the mirror, hold nothing, but passiveness, and neutrality. No spice, no spark, nothing.

"My patients they- they need someone to talk to. And I know it's my job to listen to them, but I feel so useless. Some of them don't even want to talk to me! I don't know what to do. I don't know who to ask for advice."

It's the most I have talked to someone about what I feel deep down, and the worried look on my sister's face shows me that even she is surprised.

"You can talk to me, Dee." I flinch, hearing my nickname. My mind wanders to Kennedy, who absolutely wants people to call her by her nickname. I initially thought it was because of a lack of affection, but the things I read in her file showed me quite the opposite. She is quite the opposite of me, in fact.

"Diana?"

Ignoring her invitation to open up more, I take Diego and I's mugs back to the living room, while my sister plops down on the couch next to her husband, deep in her thoughts.