In Case You Didn't Know

Chapter 10

The day is ruled by blue skies and a fragrant, summer breeze as I walk along Wicker Park Ave while chatting with Abigail on the phone.

"It's like we are in college again and he's the domineering, disdainful professor, challenging everything that I say and do with the sole purpose of pissing me off."

"Well, we know how that turned out..."

"I'm serious, Abigail."

"You have only seen the man like twice, how has he managed to piss you off so quickly?"

"Because that's his talent." Abigail snorts.

"Haven't you thought that the reason you're getting all these mixed, rash feelings is because of the exact same reason than when you two first met?" Unashamedly, yes, I have. But I'm not telling her that. "Hasn't it crossed your mind that, perhaps, he feels the same? Or how it could possibly be that he also finds it hard to be in the same room as you?"

"Yes, because he hates me. Of course he finds it hard to be around me."

"No, because he loves you still."

"You're the worst psychologist in this country and I'm overpaying you." I exhale loudly as I take the front steps of Andrew and Samantha's house, ringing the bell with Abigail still rambling on about my unrelenting stoicism.

"I'm just saying that as usual you're overthinking everything. So what if you still find your ex attractive?"

"You do realize how toxic that sounds, right?"

"With a normal person, yes, in a normal situation. You're not average, my dear one."

"Look, I'm at Andrew's." I smile apologetically at Andrew standing in front of me holding the door open. "Thanks for your...advice." She doesn't miss the chance of chiding me once more, hanging up not before a very well-made threat of getting back to it later.

"Abigail?" Andrew asks once I hang up. I kiss him on the cheek as I step inside.

"Whatever we did to deserve a friend like her?"

"Cosmic karma." Although we both know that we're being sarcastic, we can't help the histrionics of it all. "Does she do this psych thing on you too?"

"Well, yes, but I'm paying her for it."

"You are?" People go weird on you the moment you tell them you're receiving psychotherapy. Explaining them that yes, you're alright, and that no, it doesn't mean that you're some kind of psychopath, is a tiring and unnecessary process, hence why I haven't told anyone about my fortnightly sessions with Abigail. Sometimes you need someone that is not as biased and prone to sabotage as your subconscious is to talk to, and that's perfectly fine.

"Yes, I am." He gives me an acknowledgeable once over as we turn the corner into the living room.

"Oh my God." Samantha, whose baby bump seems to have doubled up in size, is laying on the sofa with a mountain of folded tiny clothes next to her. "You're so...big." The words come without malice, my mouth agape as I look at her fondly.

"And it's only been three weeks since you saw her." Andrew announces on my back as I sit next to Sam, careful to not hurt her.

"Most like you've abandoned me for three weeks."

"Sorry, work has been impossible this month." Samantha is everything that I could ever possibly ask for Andrew. Just as humble, sweet, and family oriented as he is. Hence why they're expecting their first child not even a year after getting married —which they did seven months after meeting each other. "Did you like the crib?"