"Okay this is awkward," she stated.
He tried not to smirk and she looked at him for a moment, waiting for that smirk to show up, but it never came.
"It's okay, you know? You can smirk, you can be yourself."
He barely nods before letting his trademark smirk grow on his face. He cleared his throat, "I know this is awkward for you and I won't lie and say it isn't for me too. But I am a professional and I really want to help you so I think we should at least start trying."
"Yeah. Right," she said but didn't continue.
"So, tell me who are you." He tried to show her a way to begin.
She cleared her throat and shifted on the armchair, "My name is Rory. I'm 29. I'm married," she looks down. "That's one of the reasons I'm here."
He nods but doesn't comment, "And what do you do?"
She looks up with a small proud smile. "I graduated on journalist at Yale," she tells him, something she doesn't think he already knows, different of the few things she has told him so far.
He smiles proud of her, even though he always knew she'd do it. "Congratulations. So, where are you working now?"
She bites her lip, not a good sign. "Uh, I'm not working actually. Logan, my husband… well, he owns all these papers and he is really busy, you know? So, he needs me," she tried to explain.
"He needs you to do what?"
She looks away. "He just needs me. He has all these functions and business parties to attend. He has a position, a high one – he needs me as a partner in crime," she smiles remembering how close they were once.
"So he needs you to be his wife?"
"Exactly!" she says triumphantly.
"And as a wife he needs you to attend these parties and functions?"
"Well, they come with the job," she shrugs.
"And for what else does he need from you?"
She looks utterly confused at his question, "What do you mean?"
"Well, 'partner in crime' sounds like a big deal. Like you really are partners in everything and can count on one another," he pauses and she nods. "So, how does he need you, as a wife, aside from being there for him during these functions?"
She stares at him, "I'm his wife!"
"Yeah, you said that. But what does that mean? Is he your confident? Are you his confident? Do you trust him? Is he the one you run to when you're in trouble?"
She looks down and remains quiet. He sighs, "How big a part of your life is your marriage?"
"When you marry someone you bring the other person to your life and becomes part of theirs. You have to compromise for things to work. It has to become a priority for you."
"So Logan is a priority for you?"
"Yes," she says firmly. Too firmly to really mean it.
"And are you a priority for him?" he questions.
Now he pissed her off.
She stands up in rage, "Of course I'm a priority for him! What are you trying to say, Jess? That he is a bad guy just because I ended up with him and not you?"
He sighs and closes his eyes. "Rory, please, calm down," he says quietly. She sits down back on her armchair waiting for him to continue. "I'm a professional, Rory, believe it or not. I'm not putting my personal feelings or opinions here. I'm just questioning some points in your life as I would any other patient. And if you think about it, I never said anything about Logan. You're the only one talking about him while I question some points. We're just getting to know each other and I don't want to upset you, but I have to ask these questions since you said yourself that's one of the reasons you are here and since it seems to be such a big part of your life. Alright?"
She swallows and can't argue that he isn't right, so she nods.
"Also, I'm not saying anything you said isn't true, but I'd just like to remind you that for this to work you have to be completely honest with me. This is your space so there's no reason for you to lie in here. I'm not here to judge, I just want to try to help you," he tells her and she knows he is talking about her last answer. She sighs and nods quietly, agreeing to be honest with him.
"So, again I ask, are you a priority for him?"
A minute passes when she doesn't answer, just looks down at her folded hands on her lap. He doesn't say a word, patiently waiting for her. When another minute passes and she still hasn't said a word he is ready to give up and move on to another subject. Even if it didn't seem so, it was a progress; at least she wasn't lying to him. He is about to move on when he hears her broken voice,
"No," she says and looks up, a single tear running down her cheek.
He nods, understanding. Understanding what she means and that that's as far as they can go on this subject at least today.
"So, you seemed proud to be a journalist," he comments.
"Can we please not pretend that we don't know each other?"
He smiles. "I'm glad you fulfilled your dream. I always knew you would," he says honestly.
She smiles shyly at him, "Good thing I didn't even need anyone driving straight to me screaming in another language to help me become a journalist."
"You remember."
"I do. I remember a lot of stuff."
"That's good, but I don't think this is the right time to talk about them." She looks a bit sad at his words so he adds, "But we will talk about them."
"Okay."
"Where is the last place you worked?"
"What?" she seems not understand the question.
"You said you're not working at the moment, but maybe we could talk about the places you used to work at. See how you felt about that," he explains.
"Actually," she stars embarrassed, "Logan proposed on my graduation so…"
"You've never worked."
She looks up at him, "You make it sound so horrible."
"I'm sorry, it wasn't my intention."
"It's okay. It's just the way you said it… You sounded, I don't know, disappointed."
"Again, I say, it wasn't my intention."
"But are you?"
"Rory, I'm not here as you ex-boyfriend or friend; I'm not here to judge you."
"Friend? Are you my friend? Even after all these years not talking to each other?"
"I don't know. I thought we were."
She borrows his smirk and steals his line, "What does it mean to be a friend?"
"I'm not the one being analyzed here," answers her.
"Just entertain me," she asks.
He looks up at the ceiling as if pondering her request. "For me it is… to have someone to count on. To call in the middle of the night or to go to when you don't know where else to go. Someone who is there for you with no questions asked. Someone you consider like family even though you're not blood related and that no matter how much time passes or what happens, you'll still care about that person."
"And you feel like that about me?"
"I guess so."
"I think I'm not a good friend," she pauses. "And Logan is not my friend."
She looks at him waiting for a response but he knows better. He looks over her head to the clock, "Time's up. I guess we'll have to continue next week."
She knows what he is doing and she thinks maybe he's right. She wants him to criticize Logan, but she knows the minute he does that she will attack him. He is not playing her games, and maybe that's what she needs. To live not having to pretend or play games.
He stands up and shakes her hand, "I'll see you next week, Rory."
She nods, "Bye." She opens the door and just before she closes it again she turns to him, "Dodger."