“Princess, it isn’t you that was wrong. What you felt was a perfectly normal response.” Her body stiffens and she pulls herself away, shoving at my upper body somewhat ineffectively as she does so. When I don’t lose my balance she slaps me hard across the face.
“Don’t. Don’t give me your psychobabble bullshit Ethan Kavanagh. I swear if you give me any of that you’re-all-clear shrinkage…”
“Shrinkage?” At least she has me laughing, but just a little.
“Yeah, shrinkage. Whenever it suits you, you do this what-you-are- feeling-is-perfectly-normal routine and justify my insanity when quite frankly I like being just a little bit loopy. So don’t you dare cos I am not.”
“Not normal. And neither are you. Even though you want to believe you have the world all neatly boxed up. You’ve pegged Christian as some sort of sexual deviant, Ana has a savior complex, Kate over-analyzes, Elliot’s masking his pain. You do it with everyone and then when you think you have us all labeled and packaged you write your dinky little 12-page reports so that the agency can deal. Well, don’t start that with me. I am unique and complex and I don’t want you to think for a moment that you have me all sewn up cos you know I will take that shit and give it the blender treatment until you don’t know what flavor you’re tasting.”