Rain again today. The mechanical hum of the windshield wipers and steady beat of the shower were the only things I was listening to. I hated coming here. I hated being reminded of the mistakes I had made. The human part of me that ate away at my insides forced me to come here every week, Tuesdays, to atone for my sins. My jaded, bitter side wanted to run away from it all and start a new life.
But that wasn't going to happen.
Gently breaking, I parked outside a rather bland, all white building. I counted down from three inside my head, letting out a pent up breath. This was going to go just like all the other times. The meetings always do. Why was I still so nervous? I turned my car off, grabbed my purse, and headed out into the rain. I had forgotten my umbrella at home. A little rain never bothered me much anyway. Over the years, I had become used to spontaneous bouts of showers and running water.
My heels clacked against the pavement, water seeping onto my toes. Clutching the badge attached to my collar, I reeled it over to the identification scanner. The red strip turn green and a loud buzz indicated that I was allowed to enter. Not just anyone can have these meetings. I fluffed my hair and straightened out my pencil skirt before heading down the long hallway.
An incandescent light flickered above the receptionist's desk. I licked my lips and quietly greeted the older lady staring intently at her computer screen.
"Who are you here to see?" She asked.
"Johnathan." My throat went dry. "Jonathan W."
She perked an eyebrow, typed a few letters into her computer and her eyes followed downward.
"Ah. Ms. Danielle. Here for your 3 o'clock appointment, I see." I nodded, tightening my hold on my purse strap. With a right click of her mouse, she motioned me down an adjacent hallway. It looked just as bleak as the rest of building.
"Room 109. On your left." I turned on my high heel and started on my way.
"Oh, and Ms. Danielle." The receptionist called out. I turned my head towards her, heart racing.
"I'm so sorry to hear about your husband."
It was lonely listening to my footsteps. My stomach clenched with anxiety as I stood in front of Room 109. I had been meeting with my client for over 6 months now. Opening a door should never be this hard, but every single time I had to force myself to do it. I took a breath to steel my nerves. The door opened with a soft click.
The room was rather typical. Painted in an off white to give the illusion of choice, it had two beige couches, a small tea table with two quaint wooden chairs, and a few pictures by Rembrandt hung along the walls. The soft lights gave everything a slight yellow look. It looked stained. A man was sitting on the smaller of the couches, his back turned towards the window. Metal bars hung outside, painted blue to match a sunny day. In the stormy gray though, they just looked like metal bars. I swallowed hard before stepping in and shutting the door behind me.
I waited a moment before clearing my throat. The man turned towards me and smiled brightly. His hair once was long but had since been cut to his shoulders to prevent accidental knotting. His hair once was shiny, but now was riddled with mats and his once luxurious curls were unfurled and messy. Although he was smiling at me, the wrinkles under his eyes felt sad. Johnathan used to have a young, jubilant face, but now it was wrought with stress and anguish finely hidden in the crevices of his forehead, cheeks, and eyes. I forced a smile across my lips and sat down on the couch opposite of him. I crossed my legs and set my purse beside me.
"Hello, Tommy."
"Oh hai, Lisa."