Adultery Indian Social Worker and the Bully by shiprat

[Ramesh_Rocky]

"And it won't matter anymore." she nodded. "You are counting on the innate decency of a proven psychopath rapist?"

"Do I have a choice?"

She sighed.

"Shikha, remember what we tell them?"

"You always have a choice." we said in chorus.

"I know. And I get the underlying point. In my case though...."

"Yes, in your case, it is difficult. You feel that way, sitting where you sit. But you are a qualified counselor who has worked with dozens of battered women. Now that you are one yourself..."

"No!" I spoke up.

"No?"

"Please, Nita! I am not a "battered woman" like those women. They stay in marriages, in relationships with those guys. I hate him! I loathe him!"

She just gave me a sad smile and said,

"You just told me you get drunk and masturbate re-living the..."

"That's different!" I almost yelled. I couldn't believe she was using that honest admission against me.

"How is it different?" she tenderly asked.

I sat back and sighed.

"I don't know. It just is."

Nita nodded, then made a few notes. Finally she spoke.

"Shikha, there is a lot more I would like to say. There is a lot to unpack here. But we might have shared information that is already a lot for one session. If we continue, you might get defensive and even emotionally exhausted."

I nodded. I knew the theory.

"Let's meet once a week from now on. As psychiatrist and patient. Do we have a deal?"

I nodded.

Nita got up and went to one of her cabinets on the side.

"Before you go....here is something for you." she said and walked toward me.

It was a small gun. I gasped. She continued,

"I know, you hope he will stay away. But I fear he will be back. I wish I could call the cops and have him locked up for banging you. But I promised you confidentiality. So I can't do that anymore. Unless you change your mind. In the meantime, keep this. It might help."

I took the gun and held it in my hand.

"Do you know how to...." she started saying.

"Yes, my dad was in the army. I have fired many guns." I said.

I thanked her. We said our goodbyes. She made a final entreaty to just come clean to everyone, tell the cops, and have him locked up. I told her I couldn't do that. We made an appointment for the following week. And then I left.

I went home and reached straight for the half opened bottle. But I didn't drink. Talking to Nita made me feel a lot better. I wished I had done it earlier. I put the bottle down, and went to the living room. I turned the TV on and binge watched some comedies on Netflix.

Sober. --

The next couple of days, I felt a little bit better. I was still under a cloud of gloom, but I didn't feel compelled to spend every waking moment drunk. Neither did it mean I was completely fine. I still drank myself to sleep every night. I could spend the bright daylight hours sober, but the darkness of the night brought out the darkness in my mind, and I needed the booze to help me fall asleep.