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She was how either staring at me, the ceiling, or Alpha Centauri! I quickly looked at mom who had also noticed the dimness and why. ”Who'd you have?” ”Bobby, she and I are talking about schedules. It has nothing to do with you,” Robbi snapped, irritated. ”Don't laugh,” Robbi warned. ”Debbi; the lucky bitch,” Robbi laughed. ”Uh. Yay?” Robbi said and Angela laughed. ”Perfect timing?” Angela asked, ceasing with her gawking and putting the car in reverse. ”No. Sexy girl fighter.
But I couldn't deny my family something they so clearly wanted. I was the good girl. So I smiled and said, ”Go for it.” Note: You can change font size, font face, and turn on dark mode by clicking the ”A” icon tab in the Story Info Box. This was intended as the final installment of The Therapist's Journey. However, some readers have suggested turns the story could have taken. I have tried to leave The Therapist's Journey open for further iterations. I have an idea on how to incorporate some readers' suggestions in an additional chapter and, assuming that I can muster the skill to write it, I hope to post it some time in the future. If anyone has in mind his or her own variation on the story, please let me know. I parked my car around the corner, entered through the backdoor, and crept toward the living room.
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