- U know that I don't usually talk about my feelings, right? It's like a predator exposing its weaknesses and, you know, I don't like to show these...

- You don't need to worry, Logan. This isn't Vegas, but everything we discuss will stay between us. I had asked you to try to recall your earliest memories of an unfulfilled love that you regretted. I know it's not an easy exercise, but we can explore a lot from there. What do you think?

When she asks me this question, I start to mentally wander... Ever since I realized that my adamantium skull works like Magneto's helmet, I've been much more at ease about telepathic attacks. But, on the other hand, I haven't been able to get some 'insights' about my personal problems, and I don't want to open my entire mind to the telepaths I know; with so much going on, my trust in our race has been diminishing every day.

So, I went the traditional route, sat in front of a PC, and looked for psychologists in Westchester. Half a dozen came up, most of whom had no experience with mutants and one even said they wouldn't see us. I found it to be blatant segregation and even thought about confronting them, but after the anger passed, that would only prove their point and I stayed quiet...

I called Dr. Laura's office, I confess, because of her name. Thinking about everything Laura, my clone, went through and how she turned out, I can only hope that someone with that name has the same tendency towards good and a desire to get things right in life. I needed to try, to talk to someone who could help me exorcise my demons.

This is my second session with Dr. Laura. Her office is pretty nice, she sits in front of me, with a desk between us, and I can choose a chair or a two-seater sofa. There's water and gummy candies on the desk, the place has minimal decoration, with soft scents and light colors. Her voice is velvety, and her opinions are well-considered. She dresses like Diana of Themyscira when she's playing the museum curator, and she has other qualities like hers, in other words, a stunning woman.

At my first session, I found it strange that there was no receptionist. I knocked on the door and she answered, wearing an aqua green suit and with her light brown hair in a bun:

- Mr. Logan? – and she adjusted her round glasses, while her light brown eyes looked at me from above and I nodded – Shall we come in?

I found her very subtle. She had recognized me, you could tell by her altered heartbeat, and yet she remained professional. We went to a desk at the back of the room, and there she opened my file. She asked questions about the obvious and metaphysical things and, after my answers, she concluded:

- And do you have anything else to add?

I didn't hesitate and said that there was one question missing:

- I think you recognized me, I'm a mutant. Doesn't that matter for your "file"?

I noticed she has the habit of adjusting her glasses when she's uncomfortable with something:

- Mr. Logan, science knows that mutants use more of their brain than "Homo sapiens sapiens" but, theoretically, the connections are the same and from some cases I have been able to follow, the doubts are the same and can be explored with the tools I have learned. Of course, some cases may be more complex, but I am sure that together we will build a therapy that will meet your needs. So, confirming that I recognized you, yes. When you booked your appointment and identified yourself only as Logan, of course, I didn't imagine I would be talking to an X-Man, an Avenger, and one of the most enigmatic mutants of today – she adjusted her glasses again – but I hope this environment makes you feel safe. Shall we?

And it was with this sincere conversation that she won me over. Because her voice wavered when she mentioned my affiliations and her heart raced, but she remained professional.

I said that my biggest problem was managing relationships and she then wanted to know why I didn't seek out Professor Charles Xavier to talk. And I wondered whether to tell the truth or to beat around the bush. But I told myself, "Screw it! If I want honesty, I need to give the same," and I explained my fears and the fact that I wanted to be the protagonist of my own life.

- Besides, doctor, maybe someone who is not a mutant, not involved in suicidal missions, has a different perspective on life and can give me some insight, right?

- You can call me Laura, Mr. Logan. That's true, the people in your circle are on a different mental level and, therefore, may overlook the obvious.

- So leave the "mister" for the guy upstairs, Laura. You can just call me Logan too.

Back to my second session, after that reverie, I grab some gummy candies, she watches me and writes something in her notebook. I take a deep breath, smell the scents of previous patients, two men and one woman, and smile before saying:

- It was a challenging exercise, Laura. Whether because of the gaps in my memory or my advanced age... – and she takes advantage of my pause.

- Yes, it's 145 years... Do you want to talk a little more about those gaps in your memory?

- Well... I don't know why, but it's like my brain decided that the worst sensations I've had were like the cuts on my body and, in that way, resolved to regenerate, creating new neural connections and erasing those that made me suffer. But they must still be there, somewhere. I just can't access them easily, you know?

- It's a very good theory, but the fact that your conscious part imagines that the information is somewhere would exclude the new neural connections. I would think more in terms of bridges, as if the undesirable facts were encapsulated and something new passed over them. Have you ever managed to access an undesirable memory?

I become thoughtful. Her theory was good too...

- That was the challenging part. I tried to go so far back that I managed and remember Clara... And when the memory of her name came up, it was like a whole package opened and I was able to relive that entire moment...

- I'm glad the exercise had an effect. And what were the memories? Do you feel comfortable talking about them?

I settle into the sofa, grab more gummy candies, and take a sip of water. It was uncomfortable. But I needed to talk. If her name came up, it's because something from that moment is still part of who I am, and maybe I can find some closure and move on:

- The year was 1910, I was 30 years old and the clarity of the memories is such that I can even feel the smells and perceive the noises of the place. We were in New York. It was me, Clara, and Creed. We had escaped from a circus, but I don't want to talk about that now – she nods and takes notes in her notebook – and we were already in the third city. In the previous two, I had freaked out and hurt someone... And that forced us to flee again. You know, Clara had seen the human side in me, or she liked my animal side, I don't know. The fact is that I had spent the season before meeting them with a pack of wolves and no longer knew how to live in society. She wanted to believe that I could. Maybe she had been in love with me for a long time, I don't know... All I know is that her brother, Creed, set us up. He tipped off the villain where we were, and when they invaded, I fought them off and ended up repeating something... – I take a deep breath and don't want to speak, but I need to. I noticed that this is the essential difference between being with a telepath and being with a regular psychologist... I have to talk! I have to organize my thoughts and hear my own voice... I think this is part of the treatment process, and in this respect, conventional psychology is much more visceral.

- Take your time, Logan... Go at your own pace, okay?

Her voice brings me back to reality. We look at each other, and I feel the empathy in her eyes:

- Look, when my mutation manifested, I was entering adolescence... Like in most cases, a significant stress is needed for it to show, and for me, it was witnessing the death of my father at the hands of our foreman... I killed the foreman with my bone claws – I could hear her heartbeat quicken, her scent change, but when I looked at her, her gaze was one of genuine interest – only to discover that he was actually my real father! I have almost no emotions tied to these memories. But the next time my claws appeared, well... It was a few years later, when my half-brother came after me for revenge for his father's death, and instead of killing him, I killed the first woman I loved. Her name was Rose... She made the idea of a new life possible, despite the past we had, and after her, all the women I loved died! ... These memories have many emotions connected to them, Laura. I don't know if I can continue from here... I'm sorry...

- Hey! Come on! That word is forbidden here, Logan. You have nothing to apologize to me for. The only "sorry" I accept is to yourself, okay? Let's agree on that.

I nodded affirmatively, clenching my teeth to keep a stubborn tear from escaping. She noticed my body language and said:

- Do you want me to step out so you can let your emotions out? It's still too early to trust me enough to cry in front of me, isn't it?

- If the predator shows weakness, he becomes prey, Dr. Laura...

- The world isn't limited to predators and prey. In the world we create here, as soon as you walk through that door, I can be considered a "Watcher," you know?

- At least you don't have those big heads they have!

We both laughed, but she wrote something in her notebook and then said:

- I just noted that you avoided the topic with a joke, Logan. And by doing so, you created a self-distraction for that memory that came with such a heavy emotional load. You realize you're repeating a pattern, and that's not what we want here. We want you to be something different here, at least. To not have to wear any mask. I would like you to be that little boy, at least, in this environment, you know?

- James? No, Laura... I never want to be James again... James is dead because Rose "killed" him when we hid in the Northern mines to escape the police for what we did... She gave me the name Logan. And in her memory, I want to be called that. – and I clenched my jaw again.

- Okay, that's fine then. I have another question for you: Logan, did you have time to grieve for Rose? To grieve for Clara?

- So, about Clara... I found out later that Creed had used me to attack someone, I don't remember who, but that Clara, like me and Creed, could regenerate from almost anything. Almost, right? So, I thought I had killed Clara, but I didn't... Up to that point, I had only killed Rose...

- And we return to her, then. And my question remains. Was there a time for grieving?

- I don't know what to tell you. I... I ran into the forest, ran like crazy, stripping off all my clothes since everything had her scent! I tried to kill myself, more than once, but I always woke up... without any marks or scars. And all I wanted was to tell her how much she saved me. What she meant to me...

- Then say it, Logan! Say everything you would have said, as if she were here, between us. Words can have a greater power than anything you've tried before...

And then she made a move to get up and leave me alone, and I retorted:

- No, don't leave me alone here. We're in this together... If I unearth some monster, I can only count on you to help me bury it again! I-I want to try to say the words, Laura. I swear I do. After I killed her, I lived with so much anger! The fact that I couldn't end my life to join her consumed me, and I started to think about how things would be if I could control myself. If I could be the person she wanted me to be. Is the fault in the idealizations people have of us? I couldn't meet her expectations, I don't know... Why am I so sad, Laura?... – and I couldn't hold back anymore, I let some tears fall, still without sobbing, and she handed me a box of tissues.

- Very good, Logan! Now I'm going to comment on some things, and you tell me if they make sense, okay? We divide grief into several stages, and when we can't go through all of them, we harm ourselves greatly, because we seek realities we can no longer live. You told me, and I identified the stages of denial and anger very well; it may be that your brain kept you in the next stage, which is bargaining, an attempt to think that if you acted differently, you would have created some parallel reality where Rose would still be alive. Do you agree? – I nodded – Speaking out loud and getting in touch with your emotions, now you have entered the depression stage, where you can experience a mental feeling of fatigue and isolation, due to the emptiness this realization brings you, that nothing you did would have changed what happened... I think I once heard Prof. Charles talking about parallel realities, so it's very likely that in another reality, there is a Logan who didn't kill Rose, but this reality isn't yours, and therefore, we shouldn't worry about it... After depression will come acceptance; it's not like magic, but it's something that gives you a need for overcoming and mental comfort, where this emotional pain will disappear, and you'll realize that the difference inside isn't from an emptiness, but from adding parts of that person to your personality. We only grieve for those who made a difference in our lives, Logan. But grief needs to go through all these stages; otherwise, it poisons our brain and complicates our lives. Did anything I say make sense to you?

- It does make sense, but do you understand why I haven't gone through the stages until now? How can I be an X-Man if I'm in depression? Questioning things so old that they seem no longer part of me, but now they hurt so much!

- Yes, I imagined this journey might bring discomfort. That's why I insist that these emotions be left here when you walk through that door, Logan. I imagine that's not a problem?

- It can't be! Because no villain is going to care about my issues during a fight, and if I can't do what I do best, then I shouldn't go on missions since my friends' lives depend on my commitment.

- I understand, and we agree then. As homework, I want you to focus on the present. Without questioning the emotions we've released here. They will still be present, but you will be a mere observer and won't dwell on them in your mind, okay? Let them pass, like a river. If you can't manage, don't wait a week to come back. Call me, and we can have a session by video if you're not in Westchester. We're in this together, and I'm the person who should watch your back, Logan. Trust me and be assured of success!

We said our goodbyes, and I heard her, like the last time, speaking into a recorder about everything that happened in the session, about her notes. Until the elevator arrived, I learned that most people take weeks to get to where I am in just the second session. On one hand, it's encouraging. On the other, it's scary, right?

When I get to Krakoa, I find some friends in an uproar. We had to go to a part of the island that was still unexplored because one of our students had gone there as part of a challenge issued by another and hadn't returned or communicated. Jean couldn't access his thoughts, and the worst was feared. As soon as she saw me, Jean ran to me and gave me a kiss:

- I missed you, Logan! You've been spending a lot of time away, dear...

- Don't worry, red, I've got my stuff to deal with. But I'm doing everything I can to be the best I can for you and the Big Guy. – she smiled at me, I forced a smile, but she noticed I wasn't having my best day.

- Are you sure you want to come with us? You seem distant...

- That's a word that defines my current moment well. But I have to go, Jean. To prove to myself that these things don't bring me down. That I'm responsible for my own life. – and I pressed a button on a watch that turned off our hologram. In reality, we were always in uniform, but when I left the island, I activated a hologram related to the current season. Our uniforms were developed so perfectly by Forge, with nanotechnology and lots of graphene, that they were like something biological, like a second skin. I put on my yellow and black hood and followed the redhead to the hangar. Hank, Ororo, and Prof. X were already there.

- Hey, buddy! It's great to have you on this journey into the unknown! – I give Hank a slap on the shoulder as he says this, and I board the X-Jet.

Inside, I find Scott and Kurt as pilot and co-pilot.

- Why so many involved, Slim? Isn't it just a student's disappearance?

He looks at me through a jet mirror, and I see his mouth slightly open. I smell trouble:

- You don't know who disappeared, Logan? – and when I remain silent, he continues: it's Hisako...

My blood boils, and any recollection of Rose, Clara, and their deaths is buried under so much adrenaline that I no longer need to worry about analyzing the pain or these new emotions! It's as if my wild side had truly been unleashed from some cell and locked up the weakling that left Dr. Laura's office in its place.

With the possibility of resurrection, it's not so sad to think about those who are gone, as long as the Island Nation exists, we all exist too, even those who had died before it... Somehow, everyone was brought back, and I suspect with the help of Dr. Sinister.

When we arrive, we notice that Hisako didn't go down without a fight, and we discover she fought against vampires! They insist on making this isolated part of the Island their home. No matter how many we kill or how much we insist they find another place, they always come back. I'm starting to think the Island attracts them, which is interesting because if they are the insects drawn to the light, we are the exterminators! It's a way to keep their population in check, isn't it?

I do what I do best: kill as many of them as possible without mercy, and since they are undead, none of my companions have any moral issues. Kurt still uses holy water weapons against them, which I avoid since the death is slower...

We find Hisako's body and destroy it so she wouldn't be resurrected as one of them. As soon as communication returns, we inform The Five to prepare her resurrection. Despite my fast metabolism, something happens with the adrenaline. It doesn't drop as quickly as it does for a normal person, so I stay wired until late. Fortunately, in this "brave new world" of Krakoa, I have two companions who help me relax.

The week passes between one mission and another. I don't miss my routine of visiting Banister. The guy is nice and has beers at the right temperature. Too bad he likes to talk so much...

Before I know it, I'm standing in front of Dr. Laura's black door again, waiting before knocking on the ornate silver knocker. I take a deep breath, question my sanity for wanting more than I had before, but I really feel there's been progress, even if small. I feel lighter. Being able to talk about Rose with someone outside my circle of friends is something new. I knock, and her voice asks:

- One moment, please.

When she opens the door, I can't help but be taken aback. She's wearing a dark gray suit, with a very sheer white blouse, and even with a camisole underneath, I can't help but smile and think inappropriate thoughts. My staring makes the doctor uncomfortable, so she buttons up her jacket and asks me to come in and sit down. I attack the gummy bears. I never thought something so childish could be so good! And I wait for her to get her notebook.

She's a bit uncomfortable sitting, fiddles a lot with her glasses, and starts writing several words before looking at me again:

- Shall we?

- Sure! Whenever you're ready...

- Since you didn't need to move our meeting up, I presume you managed to keep your grief for Rose under control, correct?

- The week was busy, correct. As soon as I got to Krakoa, my girlfriend noticed something was wrong with me. She even considered keeping me off missions, but I forced myself to fight against the gloom, and when I learned we were checking on a close friend's disappearance, my adrenaline kicked in, and I stayed wired until midday the next day; after the mission, it was easier to ignore the slight returns of sadness, you know? And whenever it came back, instead of observing, I did something to avoid focusing on it, mostly sex. That's something that helps me a lot to defocus from futile thoughts... – and I let out a laugh.

The doctor said nothing, just kept writing in her notebook, and after a few minutes, she asked:

- Was the sex with your girlfriend, or do you use it as a casual escape?

I raise an eyebrow, trying to understand the usefulness of this information and decide to be honest:

- Look, I've always wanted Jean and her husband. With her, I was always confessing my feelings; with him, we were always at odds. Until we came to Krakoa and everything worked out between us. So, currently, I'm part of this throuple, and on the island, I don't sleep with anyone else. – and I emphasized the island part strongly.

- Logan, this confession that thinking about your emotions is futile after sharing such personal facts and letting out a mocking laugh makes me think the opposite about them, the emotions. Reflecting on the past week, did you have more sex than usual?

I have no response! Could she have some mutant power, I don't know, like an empath? Yes, I had a lot more sex, to the point where Jean asked for a break, all to avoid entering that vortex of self-pity where Rose's face kept appearing.

She notices my delay in responding and, somehow, reads my facial expressions, bringing me back with the tap of her pen on the notebook, followed by a rapid heartbeat, though she keeps her voice at the same tone:

- Very good, I wasn't aware of this routine of yours to avoid situations that bother you. It's nothing different from most men, mutants or not, and don't get me wrong, it was expected. As long as it doesn't lead to dependency or create unpleasant situations for the involved partners, you can continue with this escape, as long as when you come in here, you leave that tactic aside, and please, never look at me with the lust you had at the door, okay? I won't be able to do my job if there's even a tiny sexual thought in your mind, understand?

I feel embarrassed. I understand where she's coming from and start to analyze myself out loud:

- You're right... I end up using sex as a way to assert myself. It's always more intense the more I want to forget something that bothers me and if I bring that attitude here, it'll take much longer for me to get into the emotional state you need me to be in, right?

It was her turn to raise an eyebrow and smile:

- Exactly, Logan! I need you to think about Rose and how that moment was naive and special. How her death impacted you and all the other relationships after that...

- Look, Laura, there was nothing naive on my part... But I understand that it was my era of innocence, right? In that sense, compared to today, you're right. And, certainly, it was special. Otherwise, I wouldn't be bothered by it more than 100 years later... The fact is, I can't get rid of this sense of doom. That I should have died as a child and, after my mutation appeared, it dragged me onto a path where I have no control, where there's only blood, pain, and tears... And, to be better than all that, I need to be strong. I need to be at the top of the chain and in that place, there's no room for memories...

Taking advantage of my pause, she launches:

- There should indeed be no place for bad memories, memories that bring pain and anger, questioning who we are, or even those capable of diminishing us... Now, you must agree that in these more than 140 years, and even during your childhood, there must have been more than just that. There were moments of peace, affirmation, love, right? If you can now focus on that, take a deep breath, ignore the background noises and the voices that say otherwise and look for life before death. How was it? The place might have been harsh, but what about your experiences?

I can't speak. Her words made me recall our lunches together, the clothes she sewed for me, the spring and summer in the mountains when I'd catch her looking at me while I chopped wood. And a strange cry came over me, a mix of shortness of breath and a desire to water the world. I covered my face with my hands and could only say:

- Make it stop, doctor!...

But she said nothing. When I removed my hands, I noticed the tissue box in front of me, along with a small glass of rum.

- Remember, Logan: I'm not a telepath. You need to tell me what went through your mind, even if it's just one of the scenes, so I have material to work with. Your tears are a very good result, but they don't provide me with material. I work with memories, stories, accounts. So, in your own time, please tell me what made you respond this way, okay?

I nod. Focus and down the rum before commenting:

- Everything she did in the routine kept me gravitating around her. I sought escape the same way I do today, in easy pleasure, but I'll never forget the best spring afternoon we had together. It had rained for three consecutive days, and because of that, the work in the mine was halted. She insisted we have a picnic by the river, and since I hadn't had contact with the miners for three days and hadn't gone to the brothel after work, I was more like James than Logan, you know?

I grab one of the tissues and blow my nose forcefully. Eat some gummy bears. She just observes, and I continue:

- I ended up fishing some fish for us, we talked about that day, something I had never allowed before, and despite my reluctance, I understood that she needed to talk about that day to understand she wasn't crazy, that it all really happened, and seeing her so fragile, I was able to give her a brotherly hug. To understand how much she suffered from my absence. That was about two weeks before I did what I did; it seemed like a truce between us, you know? She had already given up on waiting for me, was engaged to the mine manager, and they were going to leave that hole the day I condemned her... – I start crying again. I think: "Damn it! This crap tears will never stops?"

- By saying you condemned her, you inform your brain that you deliberately wanted to kill her, understand? You take on an uncertain guilt and appropriate it. And guilt, for normal people who live about 80 years, is one of the worst enemies... I can only imagine what it does to you, Logan! Did you want to kill her?

- No! Of course, I never wanted to kill Rose! It was one of the stupidest accidents! Everything was wet from the never-ending rain, my half-brother and I were fighting, and when she saw me getting the worst of it, she tried to break it up, slipped, and fell on my claws... She-she fell... There was nothing I-I could do... She fell on the claws, Laura. – and the tears bathe my face again, but these are different tears, I even unconsciously smile while crying.

The doctor doesn't stop writing in her notebook. But she also doesn't take her eyes off me, my body language. She then comments:

- Can you describe how you feel now?

- Free?

- That's a good word. Is it real? I mean, did you truly embrace it to say you feel free, Logan? Why are you smiling?

- Am I? Didn't notice, Laura... It feels like I'm several tons lighter, my mind seems to have found the answer to this question, there's no more doubt, no more struggle, no more "what if"; it happened, and there was nothing I could do because she chose to intervene. Strange... I've heard this from so many people, friends, lovers, mentors, and yet, I never heard it from myself, and that made all the difference. Hey, are you sure you're not a mutant? Some kind of empath?

She smiles warmly and then looks directly at me:

- Not that I know of, Logan. I've never had genetic sequencing done to know, and honestly, in my line of work, it doesn't make a difference. What matters is your journey, and if, instead of just guiding, I can also give a little push, all the better. Ready for another rollercoaster? I've noted down some points I think are important to revisit.

- I don't know... Can't there be a rest period for my neurons and especially for my tears? Isn't there a limit to how much a guy like me can cry in a month? – she smiles again but isn't fooled:

- I'm sure this mission is as tough as any other you've faced, but think about how much stronger you come out of each confrontation, Logan. Making yourself "weak" now with the intent of being "strong" for the days that remain, with quality in your relationships and, above all, knowing yourself much better! That's what we'll seek together, whenever you allow me... – her smile breaks through all my barriers and doubts. I start to think she's right in her arguments and maybe she's capable of destroying some self-destructive notions.

- Okay, how much time do I have left? – since our sessions were an hour and a half.

- Enough to reinforce these positive points in your relationship with Rose. Tell me another happy memory, it can even be something trivial.

I pause to access my memories, she writes and waits. This time I don't want any more candy and take a sip of water. I smile sideways, there's nothing more trivial than this memory:

- She always brought me lunch at the mine. I'd get pissed because it was full of perverts and when the wind was right and I smelled her lavender scent climbing the hill, I'd run to get the lunch box and enjoy a few minutes of conversation with her, losing myself in her green eyes like the forest I loved, and still love. Even scolding her, saying that wasn't a place for a woman to be, she didn't care, who knows if she didn't lose herself in my blue eyes too, right? Without me knowing... We got along well and had a happy life, hard, but happy. It's very good to think about that time with this perspective, Laura.

Nodding and smiling at me, she returns her eyes to her notebook, writes a few words, and ends the session like this:

- So, Logan, the exercise for the week will be to transform all this past happiness into a perspective of current happiness. You mentioned that in Krakoa you have everything you've always dreamed of, I believe that because of this inner demon, something was missing to fully enjoy that environment. I ask that you enjoy it, transfer this hope to the students and friends around you. There is still much to be worked on, whether politically for your nation or internally, addressing other dark themes, but the hope that both march towards understanding and peace can be a great engine of change. Do you feel capable of doing this exercise? What prevented you before from having hope?

- Hmm... I think everything should be tried, why not this, right? If I'll be capable, that I don't know, but I promise to give a detailed report next week. Look, I didn't feel prevented, I just knew myself to be hopeless... It was as if, because the origin of my journey had been so sad, because that's all I saw, the whole journey was sad, no matter what I did, and if I kept going, it was because I wanted something different for the people around me, never for myself. But if there's a chance that the origin had more happiness than I remembered, then the whole journey can be like that. If not before, at least from now on. And that deserves all my effort and focus. And I can be very focused, Laura...

- I have no doubt about that! But our brain prefers, most of the time, the routine over the new. Even if the routine is bad for us. So, the exercise will be difficult because at every moment your brain will want to return to the pattern of self-destruction and pain. It's comfortable with that, it knows how to handle it. It knows that just spending free time in orgies will distract the conscious mind from what matters and keep everything in the "status quo"... Fighting against this is your goal, okay?

- Of course! Agreed, boss! – and I wink at her, already standing up and grabbing my wallet to pay for the session. We both walk to the desk at the back of the room, and then I tease:

- I just disagree that they're orgies... But if you have any preference for them, I can arrange something.

She stops in front of me, I almost can't brake in time and she turns very red, forcing me to tell the truth:

- Hey, hey! It's just a joke, a bad one, but a joke! Relax, okay? I understand the importance of our relationship being professional, Laura. Lower your guard and accept my apologies, will you?...

She took a deep breath, adjusted her glasses, and pinched between her eyes before responding:

- Well, to avoid it becoming a routine, let's make a deal: I'll accept three more "jokes," Logan. On the third one, I'll send your file to a colleague of mine and inform them of your transfer, okay?

- Alright, fair... You warned me before. I'll watch myself, Laura...

I leave, thinking her reaction was quite exaggerated, but as I reflect, I start to understand her side too - a woman like her having to deal with rough guys like me and needing to maintain professionalism. I messed up... But I'll be more careful next week. I need to leave my libido at the door too!