It has been a whole week since my first interaction with Michael. The words that he said were like a broken record in my mind. You are, 'perfect', 'beautiful', and 'attractive'. That means a lot coming from a man like himself. Michael isn't an ugly man at all! He is the most attractive man that I have ever laid eyes on. Even with all the guys that I have hooked up with, none of them ever looked as good as Mr. Jackson.

It was difficult to think he wasn't an international celebrity with his sharp traits and piercing brown eyes. All it took was one session with his soothing, articulate words wrapped themselves over me like an embrace of warmth, making it more and more complicated for me to concentrate on my problems. But even with his statements, I was unable to get rid of the persistent worries that had followed me around for years. Even though his gaze was professional, it gave me a sense of being noticed that I hadn't had in a long time. This mixture of professional distancing and affection was unclear.

That still hasn't changed the fact that I have been going to night clubs two-three times a week getting plastered and sleeping with random strangers. I have been doing it for so long now it's what I am accustomed to. I don't see that changing any time soon.

I made it to the office going over to the sign in desk letting them know that I am here. I paid $30 for my session and took a seat waiting for my name to be called. While I was waiting I scrolled through my phone watching YouTube shorts. That was until I got a text message from my ex-husband.

Bastard: *You really think seeking therapy is really going to fix all your fucking issues that you have? Bitch please, no one is educated or certified enough to help your pathetic stupid ass. No one even cares about your issues, not even your fucking therapist. Just give it up and come to realization that you're hopeless. Just keep fucking and drinking your life away.*

How the fuck does he know that I am seeking therapy? I don't associate with him what so ever. Ugh! I hate him. I wish I had never even married him.

"Ms. Lane?" A lady for the door said my name. I got up walking over towards her and she took me to the same area as before.

"Mr. Jackson will be with you in just a few minutes."

"Okay, thank you."

While I was waiting, I went back on my phone rereading his text message. It just pissed me off all over again. How does he know that I am seeking therapy? He lives 2 and a half hours away from me, what the fuck? Why the fuck should he care what the hell I am doing, it doesn't concern him any at all. I wanted to reply, but I was the bigger person and didn't do so. At least not yet. I'll probably end up sending him a drunk reply later and regret it the next morning or probably not.

"Ms. Lane?" I heard Michaels sweet voice say my name. I looked up at him and he was wearing a red and black button down tucked into his black pants. He looks fucking delicious.

I got up from my seat walking past him into the room, taking a seat on the couch. I heard him shut the door, before taking a seat in front of me.

"Ms. Lane, I forgot to ask you what you do for work."

"I am the office manager of a bank."

"Do you like your job?"

"Yeah, I do. I have been with the bank for 10 years and office manager for a little over a year."

"How are things, Ms. Lane?"

"The same as the last time we spoke, Mr. Jackson."

"Nothing has changed?"

"Nope, same things just different days."

"Does that mean you are still harming yourself and sleeping with different people?"

"I have only ever harmed myself like 11 times in the past 6 months. It's mainly drinking and fucking my problems away."

"You have a history of self harm, it's something that we need to work on to help you stay away from the thoughts of doing it, so that it doesn't happen again. You never told me you had a drinking problem during our first session, is that what causes you to sleep with different people?"

"So, what if it does, Mr. Jackson? What are you going to do about it? Judge me like everyone else?" I know I sounded rude, however I really didn't give a fuck.

Michael just intently stared at me in silence with his beautiful eyes like I had lost my mind or something.

Eventually he spoke up.

"Listen, I told you I would never judge you ever. This is a judgment free place, whether you want to believe that or not is on you. All I am trying to do is get more information from you so that we can work things out together. I get it you are still under a lot of stress and trauma and that you are angry when you talk about some things, it takes a lot of healing for that to go away and that's what I am trying to help you with. However, what you aren't going to do is sit there and disrespect me when all I am trying to do is help, you got that Ms. Lane?"

Damn, he just got even more sexier. I wish he could help me in more ways than one right now. I don't think this therapy is going to work for me, not if I am finding him sexually attractive. And I know for a fact that he doesn't want me because I sleep with multiple people. Okay, I am pushing my thoughts all to the side right now.

"Okay, Mr. Jackson. What advice do you have for me then?"

"We need to find a substitution to distract you from drinking so that it doesn't lead to you sleeping with random people."

"Can I ask a question?"

"Of course, ask away."

"Why are you so stuck on trying to get me to stop sleeping with different people? I mean is there a reason? That has been your main concern."

"Look," Michael stood up walking over to me, sitting down beside of me on the couch. "this is only our second session. It is going to take a lot more than me being concerned to get you to stop." Michael looked straight into my eyes before finishing.

"Listen, I wasn't lying when I told you that you were very attractive and beautiful. You deserve way more than just drunkenly hookups." I looked away from his gaze, until I felt his finger under my chin making me look at him.

"You may not see that now, however, eventually you will. I am here to help you fight and talk through all obstacles that you are facing. You are dealing with a lot of trauma, I understand that. But you have to allow me to help you. And sleeping with different people isn't healing you or making you feel good about yourself. At the end of the day that's what you think you deserve and it's not." Michael removed his finger from my chin but never removed his gaze from me.

"How do you know what I deserve? You don't know me."

"From what I know right now, I see true potential in someone who wants more for themselves. Even though she doesn't realize it now. You deserve to be happy, Ms. Lane. You just have to allow yourself to be."

I looked down at the ground.

"I haven't been happy in such a long time. I can't tell you the last time I was ever happy." I felt Michael's finger under my chin again making me look at him.

"We are going to have to find your happy place. It's not going to happen overnight so don't expect it to." He removed his hand again.

The more I stared at Michael, the more I wanted him. I wanted to kiss his plumped lips so badly. The sad thing is, is that I didn't even know if he was dating, engaged or married. I never really cared before, I have slept with a lot of people who are in a relationship, engaged and married. I don't understand what is stopping me from jumping his bones.

Then all of a sudden I didn't care.

I kissed him.

I didn't think Michael would kiss me back, but he did after a few seconds.

I slowly started to intense the kiss and that's when he ran his fingers through my hair.

Michael grabbed my hand guiding me to straddle his lap. His big hands were caressing and rubbing my back until they got to my hips grabbing my ass firmly.

I started to feel his semi erection beneath me. Even though he was semi erected, he still felt fucking huge.

He moved my hips to grind over him. I felt him get bigger by the second. I was getting pretty wet.

I knew our time was limited so there was only so much that we could do. So instead of going too far, even though we passed that, I got off of him standing up.

Michael looked at me confused and I refused to make eye contact with him.

"I am so so sorry Mr. Jackson, I don't know what came over me."

"Marleigh, why are you apologizing? And I told you to call me Michael when it is just us."

"Be-because I kissed you an-and I shouldn't have. God, I fucked everything up." I started stressing pacing back and forth running my fingers through my hair.

"No, you didn't stop." Michael stood up grabbing my arm.

"I got-gotta go." I grabbed my purse walking towards the door.

Before I opened it, he stopped me.

He backed me up until my back was pressed against the door.

"I am not sorry that you kissed me, I am glad that you did." Michael wrapped his hands around me, pulling me in for a kiss.

"How about I text you tonight to see how you are doing?" Michael asked when he ended the kiss kissing my cheek.

"N-no, you don't have to do that." I objected.

"Yes, I do and I will." Michael seen the clock and saw it was time to go.

He grabbed my papers, giving me one last kiss before he opened the door. His next client was sitting there waiting I couldn't believe who it was.

It was my ex-husband and he just sat there with an evil smirk on his face.

Michael just stood over at the window waiting for me. Instead of making a new appointment, I just ran out of there, jumping in to my car, driving off.

I haven't seen my ex-husband in over 6 months. He is the last person that I have ever wanted to see on planet Earth. I would have done anything and everything to avoid him.

Now, I can't even have Michael as my therapist.

(Sorry, it took me so long to write this chapter! I just haven't been motivated or had the time to write. Here it is, I hope you enjoy! Also thanks to wifeyjackson for helping me write a part of the chapter, she is amazing and I love her! Go check out her work as well (:)