“There was not an ounce of sincerity in his apology,” I told my therapist.  “There was nothing.  I don’t believe anything he told me.” 

I took a deep breath before I continued.  I wasn’t sure how much to tell her because I honestly don’t know how much I trusted her.  I had not written down any of my suspicions about Dylan and had not told anyone else, but Dylan seemed to know exactly what I was thinking and saying.  I don’t know how he could know anything about what I was telling Dr. Taylor unless she was somehow telling him.  But what would be her motive?  And why was I so interesting to her? 

I decided to throw in a few lies to see if they got back to me.  I smiled and started telling a story about how I was ready to forgive him and how my life would mean nothing without him.  What would he know when I got home after work?  How would he treat me now?  Did they somehow know each other?  Dylan was the one who had gotten me Dr. Taylor’s information in the first place so it was possible.  What was his ultimate motive?  His end game? 

When I got home that night, I found flowers, champagne and candles.  I knew he knew what I had said.  Though he must not have expected me home so early because I heard my recorded voice coming from his office. 

“There was not an ounce of sincerity…” 


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