Dr. Aubrey Prentice was having a productive psychotherapy session with Ian. She was getting to the core of his psyche, making progress with his real fears and issues. So what if she highlighted the misery in his life to make a new one seem so much better. A life with someone like herself, who understood him, wanted him for who he was.
Or what she could mold him into.
Dr. Prentice had success in the first session by discussing his family. So she resumed the topic in their second session.
“Tell me more about your family, Ian. Your parents, grandparents, and siblings. Do you feel like they expect more from you? Or have you put yourself in the position of managing the family fortune without anyone asking you to? You're not the eldest of your siblings. Why do you put so much pressure on yourself?”
Ian replied:
“It’s like this. My brother and sister have always felt privileged. They did okay in school. They went to college, and now they travel and have hobbies, but they don’t work. Not really. But they still draw a salary from the companies we own. I don’t think that’s right. I don’t know why.”
Dr. Prentice decided to let Ian talk for a while. Whatever he wanted to talk about. Directing the conversation too much at this point would be a mistake.
What she wanted now was unadulterated information.
“They act like everything they have is owed to them,” Ian continued. “Like the money appears out of thin air. Like our name carries itself.” He let out a sigh. “Somebody has to be responsible. Somebody has to make sure things don’t fall apart.”
“And that somebody is you,” Aubrey said.
“If I don’t do the work, who will?”
“Someone will. They have to,” Aubrey said. “Have you ever asked your grandfather for an assistant? I mean someone with an MBA.”
“He would never let me have that. It shows weakness to share the work.”
“Or,” Aubrey said, “are you afraid someone with a degree might best you?” She knew that would get Ian’s attention.
Aubrey let her expression become empathetic, concerned, beautifully attentive. She had mastered the art of looking at a patient as though she were seeing their soul. Men like Ian, who were starved of admiration, misread that look every time.
“It’s my responsibility. It’s all on my shoulders.”
“Responsibility is admirable,” Aubrey said. “But it can also be lonely.”
“Maybe I’ll ask him. He seems pretty open these days. I don’t have time to go to school. Maybe I could learn from someone with an MBA on the job.”
“That sounds like a plan. Now, what about Hope?” Aubrey asked. “Do you feel she lightens that burden? Or adds to it?”
There it was, the uncomfortable squirming. Dr. Prentice had to laugh. She had snuck that one in. Would he take the bait?
“She doesn’t understand any of it,” he said. “She doesn’t even try. I’m working double shifts, and she… well, you know how she is.”
Aubrey didn’t comment, didn’t frown, didn’t show even mild disapproval. That neutrality permitted him to express himself without hindrance or direction, for now.
“She makes everything harder,” Ian said firmly. “I come home hoping for quiet, or at least support, but she’s either complaining or avoiding me.”
Aubrey scribbled a note. “And how does that make you feel?”
“Like I’m alone even when I’m not,” Ian admitted. “Like she doesn’t care what I go through.”
Aubrey set her pen down deliberately. “You deserve a partnership, Ian. Not just proximity.”
“I don’t know what that means. You’re making me feel stupid. I don’t like that.”
“You’re hardworking. You’re trying to grow. Not many men dare to examine themselves the way you do. Hope has to learn what being married is. Being married is not about being together; it’s about working together.”
She saw it happen: Ian smiled to himself. He was right for once. “So Hope is wrong because she won’t acknowledge the effort I’m putting into our relationship.”
“She doesn’t see it that way,” Aubrey said.
“No,” he said. “I don’t think she does.”
Aubrey kept her expression neutral. She couldn’t let Ian see the satisfaction she derived from getting him to see Hope as the culprit, the one standing in the way of his happiness.
“Tell me,” she said, “if you weren’t constantly managing everyone else’s needs, what kind of life would you want?”
Ian stared at the carpet.
“I think,” he said slowly, “I’d want a life where someone actually understood me.”
Aubrey smiled warmly and used her flirty voice.
“I think you’d thrive in a life like that, Ian.”
She let the idea settle in. Watched him realize that he deserved more out of life. That there was a life waiting for him that he couldn’t possibly imagine.
“I want that. I want the life you’re talking about.”
Then Ian hesitated, not wholly sure of himself. “I’ve never really said that out loud,” he admitted.
“Most people don’t know what they want until they’re given space to think about it. You’ve been living in reaction mode for years. Responding to expectations, obligations, other people’s demands. Not your own.”
Ian’s face fell. “It’s exhausting.”
“It is,” Aubrey agreed. “And you deserve a break from the demands. You deserve understanding for what you are going through.”
A lightbulb went off. There was that look again. It was as if Ian realized something else. More important this time.
Aubrey didn’t break eye contact. She let Ian ponder what she said.
“Hope doesn’t understand me,” he murmured.
Aubrey became the picture of compassionate neutrality. “Do you feel she tries to?”
“No,” he said finally. “She doesn’t try at all.”
“And that hurts,” Aubrey said.
“Yes.”
Aubrey allowed herself a quiet exhale. This was the moment when she could reframe the way he saw his family. To show him that he needed to rise above and take charge of the people who were hurting him.
“Ian,” she said, “you’ve been carrying your family on your back. You’ve been carrying your wife. You’ve carried expectations, pressure, judgment. And you’ve done it alone.”
Ian got a little teary-eyed. “I just want someone to care how hard I try,” he said.
“I know,” Aubrey murmured. “And I see how hard you try.”
He looked at Aubrey and wiped his eyes.
Had no one ever given him that kind of encouragement? Was reshaping Ian going to be as simple as recognizing his efforts?
The atmosphere in the room changed, but Ian didn’t notice. He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, the energy in him moving from guarded to exposed.
“You really think I’m doing okay?” he asked, like a child seeking reassurance.
“I think,” Aubrey said, leaning forward herself, “you’re doing better than anyone gives you credit for.”
His expression was flooded with relief. Like the heavy burden he had been carrying was lifted off his shoulders.
“Seriously?”
“But I also think you’re starved for connection. And when people are starved, they cling to what they know. Even if it isn’t feeding them.”
“I’ve never felt connected to anyone. Not my family, my fellow workers, or my wife.”
“You don’t have to keep living like that,” Aubrey said. “You don’t have to settle for a life where you feel unseen in your own home.”
“Then what kind of life am I supposed to have?”
“The kind,” she said, “where you are valued. Where you are met emotionally. Where your needs matter, and someone actually cares enough to meet them.”
“Does a life like that even exist?”
Dr. Prentice smiled as if they had just shared a kiss.
“It does,” she whispered. “For the right person.”
She captured Ian with her smile, so much so that a few moments went by before either one of them noticed they were staring at each other.
Ian cleared his throat. “I don’t know if I’ve ever had that. A life like that.”
“Most people don’t. Not until they’ve been shown what it feels like.”
“And you think I could have that?” Ian asked. “That I’m worthy of it?”
“Ian. Of course, you’re worthy. Why would you ever doubt that?”
“Because Hope never makes me feel that way.”
“Maybe Hope doesn’t know how to love someone like you.”
“Someone like me? What does that mean?”
“Some people need steady partners. Who listen deeply. Who want to grow. Who crave emotional intimacy as much as physical comfort.” She paused. “That’s not something everyone can provide.”
Ian looked puzzled again. “You’re telling me stuff that makes me feel better, but it doesn’t solve anything.”
“You need a woman who loves and respects you. Someone who understands what you go through every day and wants to help.”
“Yeah. I think I do.”
“Ian, you are not hard to love.”
“You are misunderstood,” she added. “And lonely. And trying so hard to be better. That’s not something to be ashamed of. It’s something someone out there will cherish.”
Ian’s eyes glossed, not with tears, but with a kind of stunned recognition; he was finally hearing the words he’d wanted to hear his whole life.
Dr. Prentice let the thought sink in, watched Ian’s posture straighten a bit.
Therapy was over. Now it was time for the seduction. Ian was confused and vulnerable. Now was the perfect time to get inside his head.
Ian sank back in his chair, his entire body loosening in a way she’d never seen. “Thank you,” he whispered. “I don’t think anyone’s ever said things like that to me.”
Aubrey gave him another understanding smile. “Then I’m glad you heard them now.”
He stared at her, not with inappropriate desire, not yet, but with devotion.
With attachment.
Exactly where she needed him, where things would soon begin to tip in her favor.
“Do you think that I deserve more? In my marriage? In my life?”
Aubrey pounced.
“I think,” she said, “you deserve a life that finally feels like yours.”
Ian looked at her dreamily, then sat straight up.
“I’m ready to let you help me, doc.”
Doc? Her seduction had been squelched, like when the bright lights are turned on at last call. The therapy had been a success, but by calling her ‘doc,’ Ian had put Dr. Prentice squarely into the friend category.
Damnit! Aubrey would have to come up with a different strategy than ‘today is the first day of the rest of your life!’
Ian stood up and shook her hand across the desk. Was he playing her? Aubrey couldn’t figure it out. What had just happened here?”
“Thank you, Dr. Prentice. I look forward to our next session.”
Ian left her office like he had a new lease on life. Aubrey stayed seated at her desk, deflated. She reflected on the session and made a few more notes. Thinking back, she had seen this dynamic before. Someone gets listened to for the first time in their lives. You blow some sunshine up their ass, and suddenly they’re on top of the world. The glass is half-full, etc.
But the moment they go to work, the moment they go home and realize how shitty their life is, they come running back for more. Ready to drink from the fountain of tea and sympathy.
So it wasn’t going to be as easy as Aubrey first thought.
But that made the victory all the sweeter.