“What?” I asked.  I must have heard him wrong.

“I want you to fuck my wife.”

 A million things went floating through my head, most notably, the thought of railing his wife Justine.  Why the hell would anyone want to give away his wife like that?  This is the last thing I needed to hear from Grant.  I have my own issues, besides who fucks his best friend’s wife?  He’s got to be joking?

“Justine’s seen all you’ve been through and she thought this might be the best way to get you out of this funk.  Christ Matt, we’ve been friends for a long time and it kills me to see you like this.  The counseling is sure as hell not working, and it’s obvious there has always been… some… tension… between you two for a long time.  I see how you two look at each other.”

“Oh, give me a break.  She’s your wife and yes, she’s hot.  I remember you sharing plenty of looks with Jenn.  So what, this is a pity fuck now?” I retorted. “Boo, hoo.  Matt lost his wife and is having trouble getting his shit together, let’s throw him a bone, or better yet, have him throw his bone in my wife.  I don’t think so, Grant.”  I was mad. 

I could feel the heat rise in my face as I continued,  “I’m not a charity case, I’ve been mourning my fucking wife.  Besides, what’s in it for you?  If I fucked her, you’d have to think about that for the rest of your life.  It would ruin your marriage for Christ's sake!  Who’s freaking idea is this?  Yours?  Hers?”  I was more than curious about that last piece.

“Whoa, buddy….” He was obviously taken aback by my tone.  This was obviously not going the way Grant had planned it.  “We are just trying to help!  We’ve seen what you’ve gone through, man.  You haven’t been able to pull yourself out of this for over a year now and you’re just going through the motions.  You put up a good front to everyone else but I see it.  Justine certainly sees it.  You’re just not there anymore.  You think Jenn would have wanted to see you like this?”

Fuck, they had seen through me.  I thought I was better than that.  They knew me better than I thought.  Grant was right.  I’d just been going through the motions. My friends and family have their own lives to live.  I didn’t need people feeling bad for me.  They shouldn’t have to worry about my life all of the time. 

Pity was not my thing.  Self-loathing on my own maybe, but I didn’t need people to feel sorry for me, let alone offer me their wives.  This had to be coming from somewhere, but I couldn’t do this right now with Grant.

“I gotta go Grant.  My therapy session is in a half-hour.  I don’t know what the fuck is going on with you or Justine, but I don’t need your pity, or a pity fuck.”  I reached out to shake his hand and he responded in kind.  “Look, I appreciate the sentiment, I do.  You guys have always been there for me, but this is a bit extreme don’t you think?  Let’s not make dinner tonight more awkward than it’s already going to be.  I’ll see you guys around 7:00.”

I pulled him in for an awkward bro-hug and led him out the garage door as I got into the car and pulled away.  My god, was the weekly meal with Grant and Justine going to be weird tonight? The Friday night meal was something we’d done for years and we just kept doing after Jenn had died.  It was really the only thing that kept me going after those first few months.

It was then on to the next worry, as this is the last thing I needed before my session with Dr. Amanda Atkins.  My big mouth got me into this particular mess.  My primary care doctor was asking me all kinds of questions, just two weeks after Jenn’s accident.  He just kept pushing and I just burst out without thinking that I felt like ending it all, if he didn’t stop asking questions. 

Dr. Cole misinterpreted the hint as a cry for help and told me it was weekly sessions with a psychologist or an inpatient psych evaluation.  That got me these sessions with Dr. Atkins, and today was the second to last mandated one.  It’s not like I tell her anything anyway.  I just tell her what she wants to hear “everything is awesome” and she eats it up and tells me I’m progressing.  What bullshit…

Dr. Atkins’ office was different than what I expected a psychiatrist’s office to be.  No couch, or lounger.  Just four comfy brownish modern living room furniture chairs in a semi-circle with an impressive dark wood modern office desk to the side.  She always sat down in the chair opposite me and always waited for me to say something first, which of course, drove me insane.  There were sessions early on when I would wait it out, but I could only make ten or fifteen minutes in the silence. 

There was something about her that made the silence uncomfortable.  She was actually quite naturally pretty, but she always wore unflattering business suits or other such bagginess to hide herself, and never any make-up on her fair creamy pale skin.  Her strawberry blonde hair was usually up in a simple ponytail.  She was a natural beauty, but it was like she was trying to hide herself from everyone.  That’s something I could relate to.

Just looking at her through that silence sort of irked me after a while.  What was she afraid of?  I stopped playing the game after a month and I just broke down and started the bullshit.

Today was different for some reason.  She started off things off for the first time since our very first session.  “Next week is the last mandatory session, but you are more than welcome to keep coming after that.”  She paused for effect after seeing I had been taken by surprise with her leading off.  “Why don’t you tell me, where you are going from here?  Where is life taking Matt Garner in the next six months?”

Ugh.  I gave her the crap about looking forward with work, plans with friends and maybe looking for a date.  I laid it on.  This was nothing new, just give her what she wants and get through this, I thought.  Shockingly, this time, her reply came out of nowhere.

“We’ve been doing this for almost a year now Matt.  I don’t believe you are a danger to yourself.  I never did.  What I do believe is that you have not moved on.  You say all the right things all of the time in here, but I would bet my whole practice that you have not moved on from anything at all.”  She was saying this so cold and clinically.  This was completely different than anything in the past year. 

She was looking out the window saying all of this, then her eyes met mine as she continued, “Jenn’s dead.  Moving on is not being unfaithful to her memory.  This is going to eventually eat you up inside and then you really will be a danger to yourself.  You’ve got to be real with someone at some point, Matt.”

What the hell was going on today?  First Grant and now Dr. Atkins.   Was I really not fooling anyone?  Who the hell was this lady to tell me what I’m supposed to feel?  It was at that point that I thought she deserved a dose of realism.

“You want real?”  I snorted.  “I loved my wife.  She was everything.  She was my life.  She’s gone and I’ve got to live with that.  I don’t need you or anyone else feeling bad or sorry for me.  Shitty things happen in life, you deal with them in your own way and you get by.”  Shit was just coming out faster than I could think it through.

“What makes you so averse to getting help, Matt?” she said in a very monotone way.

“Help?  Today, everyone has been trying to help me.  My best friend, Grant, you know, who’s been my ‘rock’ this whole time,” I alluded to the bullshit I’d been spinning her all year, “came by today and asked me to fuck my other rock, Justine, his wife, because they are feeling bad for me.  Well, guess what? I’m tired of all the bullshit.  You want the reality?”

She slowly nodded and calmly said, “I would like that very much.”

“We had a couple of exhibitionist moments a few years back, but she was Jenn’s best friend AND she’s married to my best friend.  Where’s that marriage going if they’re asking for me to step in huh?”  I figured I might as well get it all out there and hell, what does it really matter at this point.  I only had one more visit left and I’d never see her again.

“Are you considering taking their help?” she asked matter of factly.

“You know what?  What the hell maybe, right?  I can’t say I didn’t get excited by the thought.  So yeah, I’m considering fucking her brains out, making him watch and showing them both that they are fucking up a perfectly good thing!”  I wasn’t thinking at all now, and I certainly didn’t mean it.  I was trying to get a reaction out of her.

“That is probably not the help you should take Matt.  I think you see that?” she added in a very businesslike way.  Looking at her, I could see that her body was giving her away as she had started to blush with this particular topic.

Now, I was starting to really feel pushed.  I was more real with her in the last two minutes than in the last year, and she was just so cold about it.  I had to knock her off her game to get some breathing room. 

“What about you, Amanda? You come in here like Dr. Frumpy all of the time.  Isolating yourself from your patients.  I get it, but I’d bet you your practice it goes farther than that!  What are you hiding from?  How about you get real with some fucking insight of your own?  I throw something juicy out there and you get all hot and bothered?  Your body gave you away.  Look you’re getting red from the neck up.  Not very fucking professional is it Dr. Atkins?”

Her blushing got worse and I watched her swallow hard.  You could see the wheels turning, but nothing came out of her.  I kept pushing.  “I think we’re about out of time today, Amanda.  See you next week.”  With that, I rose from the chair and headed to the door.  To my utter surprise, she jumped up and stood in the way.

“Look, Matt, you cannot act on this!  If you act on Grant and Justine’s request, you jeopardize their friendship and their marriage.  It puts you at severe emotional risk as well.”  I opened my mouth to say something and she stopped me. 

“Here is the on-call number.” She was saying quickly as she pulled a card from her baggy pantsuit pocket handing it to me. 

“I want you to call me if anything further develops.  This isn’t something to navigate on your own.  You have been more honest today than at all the other sessions combined.  That is the first step.  Having sex with a married friend would be a giant step backwards, and I think you know that.  I will help you get through this, but you have got to call me if you feel the need to act on this.  Just promise me you will call if something happens before next Friday’s session?”

I was a little surprised and confused.  The clinical Dr. Atkins was gone and she was displaying some true compassion for me.  I felt like she actually cared and I gave in.

“Sure,” I said unconvincingly.

“No, Matt, this is not something you can fluff your way through.  I mean it, you call if you need the help.” Her tone had just slightly increased this time.  She reached out and grabbed both of my arms.

“Yes, Amanda, sure.”

With that, she let go and stepped aside and I walked out to the car and drove home. 

It was the middle of the afternoon and I was emotionally exhausted.  I laid down on the bed to rest thinking through the events of the day and the memories of Jenn came flooding back as I fell asleep…