CASKET OF EMOTIONS

She looked at me with a mixture of wariness and defiance; it was interesting to watch the slideshow of emotions on her face—hate, disgust, fear, desperation. Each emotion was distinct and was threatening to burst through the veneer of her calm disposition. What was more interesting was that I noticed that she fought very hard to conceal and contain her pantheon of conflicting feelings. This was not what I normally saw with women in my experience.

She was a handsome woman in her late thirties at least. I wouldn't say she was particularly stunning, but she was the kind of person people never forgot easily once they've met her. She had thick eye lashes that were like a canopy over her hazel-coloured eyes. Her nose was small, and her mouth was thin yet sensual.

"Are you not going to ask me why I came?" she finally spoke.

I smiled. "No. I was waiting for you to tell me when you're ready."

She gave a low chuckle. "You're different from other shrinks I've met with in the past."

"How many of my mind-picking compadres have you visited?" I asked with genuine curiosity.

"Four now. You're the fifth one I'm seeing this week," she replied stoically.

I was surprised. What kind of problem did she have? and why didn't the others solve it? As I looked at her, she struck me as someone who was searching for something, or somene who had found something but did not know what it was she had found.

"That's quite a number," I said. "Tell me, what can I do for you?"

"I need your advice."

"Advice on what?"

"My marriage."

I deftly scrutinized her. She did not look like the textbook abused women, but then again, people are different. "What is wrong with your marriage... uh... Charity?—can I call that?"

"Sure, you can. Well about my marriage... I am pregnant for someone who is not my husband," she confessed and hung her head. Was it in shame or something else?

"Why?" I said.

"Why what?"

"Why are you pregnant for someone who is not your husband?"

She looked at me as if she was doubtful that I had a brain. "It's obvious, isn't it? I had sex with another man who—"

I cut her short. "I know that. My question is: why did you cheat on your husband?"

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