The Yes Factor - Erin Spencer Page 0,1

he leaves. “Thank you, Emma. Lovely to see you again. Bye, Liv. I’ll see you tonight at the gala.”

And just like that, he’s gone.

I turn to Emma and throw my hands in the air. “Do you see? I mean, seriously. I don’t know how much longer I can take this.”

Emma just nods at me, silently.

“Can we talk? Since I’m here?” I hate the pleading note in my voice.

“Liv, you know the rules.”

“But, we’re not even halfway through the session.” My stomach is churning with a mix of exasperation and desperation.

“Liv, I can’t do sessions with either of you separately. It’d be a breach of my ethics and a breach of our trust—you, me, and Ethan. You remember the patient covenant you each signed.”

“Ha!” I laugh out loud. “Trust…”

I grab my bag and throw my scarf around my neck as I try to get up from the sofa, which is like quicksand pulling me in. How many sad, angry, depressed, anxious butts have sat on this sofa? It must be my new heels that are throwing me off balance. After a good rocking motion, I finally rise to my feet but lose my balance and almost fall into Emma’s lap, catching a scent of her crisp, grassy perfume. She’s so perfectly put together and composed it irritates me during our sessions.

“Are you okay, Liv? I think it’s best if you leave now and we can regroup next week.”

“No, I’m not okay. You need a new sofa. And I am leaving.” I huff out of the room.

This isn’t me. I hate being angry. I’m not supposed to be like this—bitchy to other people, like a child throwing a tantrum. Ethan makes me like this. I had to practically kidnap him, brainwash him, and bodily drag him to therapy. The first session was fairly easy—who we are, what we do, our history as a timeline of places and events. Ethan loves beginnings. He’s always charming in beginnings, and with a run of his hand through his thick, salt and pepper, wavy hair, he ingratiates himself to everyone. And everyone seems to fall under his spell. By now, I know all of his moves, but I was just as dazzled by him during our beginning, too. That’s why he’s a good lawyer, I suppose. But this particular session with Emma, when things are starting to get real, when we’re finally scratching below the surface of who we are together as a couple, whether there’s even a together for us, he bails. Considering everything that’s happened over the years, I shouldn’t be surprised, but it still hurts.

I stumble out into the crowded hustle and bustle of Tottenham Court Road on a blustery London day. It’s always such a jarring juxtaposition—the quiet, soft hues, and minimalist decor of Emma’s office, her well-watered plants, and just interesting enough paintings on the wall, then hitting the frenetic pace of the pavement outside. The car horns, the jostling with other pedestrians. London still manages to overwhelm me all these years later.

How did it come to this? I think to myself for the millionth time.

I reach into my bag to get my phone and see there’s a text from Ethan. In spite of myself, my heart leaps for a nanosecond. Maybe it’s an apology.

Don’t forget it’s black tie tonight.

Nope, I should have known better. I almost let out a scream in the middle of the street when I think about the boredom and small talk that awaits me tonight.

Bex

“Mom! Is that you? What are you doing home? I thought you weren’t gonna be back until three?” Maddie yells from her bedroom.

“Yeah, it’s me. I decided not to go to Zumba after all. You ready to go?” My dating life is such a disaster that I can’t bring myself to tell Maddie anything about it. So my date with Sean was a Zumba class to Maddie. I look at it as protecting her from becoming jaded about love before she even has her first kiss. At least I don’t think she’s had her first kiss yet. In any case, thirteen is way too young to know about the black hole of dating apps.

“We don’t have to be at the drop off until four. Mom, chill,” I hear her whine.

“No harm in getting there early. You never know about traffic. If we have time to spare, we can just stop along the way for a milkshake.” Here’s hoping the lure of a treat will bend her to my will like it did

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