She holds up both hands in surrender. "I don't mean to repair anything. I just want to examine your current state. I'm not making any promises, and I can't officially take you on as a patient and stay friends. There have to be boundaries, and I'm not good at boundaries. That's why I don't--"

She runs a hand across her eyes and back through her hair. A muscle in her jaw jumps as she clenches her teeth. There's a deep history lurking just beyond what she's saying and giving voice to it feels like reopening scars.

"I was his doctor before I was his lover."

There. The first incision. At least she doesn't have to worry about when and how it will come up now that it's over.

She clucks her tongue and crosses her arms again.

"So what do you want to drag out next? Sad childhood?"