"Well, your parents want you to come, to help deal with the trauma," she said.Jason laughed to himself. 'Trauma? The only trauma was all the beating off I had to do after they arrested her. Parents? Yeah right! Dad would never make me do this.'"The school district is paying for these sessions, to help your recovery," she explained.Jason thought about a comment his mother had made about not suing the district if they paid for the sessions. No one really cared about how this actually affected him, if it did at all. They only cared about what they were getting out of it. It all became too much and anger crept into his voice. "Yeah, and when the money runs out?" Jason, you won't be abandoned," she soothed.He laughed, "Abandoned. I want to be left alone, damn it."The doctor sat back. "Jason, anger at your therapist is quite common. It means we are moving forward. It is the anger towards your tormentor that is being re-directed at me. Let your anger out," she said."You mean Roberta?" Jason. Of course, she was careful to pretend how reluctant she was to give up her brown eye so as not to arouse the middle-aged man before his departure. The poor man had no idea it was his wife's way of saying "sorry" in advance for her anticipated lapse in fidelity this very evening.For some strange reason, the sight of the Reverend Harris arriving in front of their upscale home in the city made Marie more nervous than she would have expected. She hoped he would find her appealing in the way that males tend to desire females to act and tend to their needs. Marie was much besotted with the Reverend Harris or to be more accurate with his impressive huge member that seemed to be always at the ready for intimate consultation.The flowers that he placed in her hand just inside the door were "picked from my own garden" as he so gallantly advised her. They took drinks in the drawing room with tantalizingly slow banter about local gossip. Marie observed that the Reverend had a slow growing tent in.
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