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“Can I ask you something?” I said, shifting in the seat. “For a friend.”

“For a friend,” they drawled, not even attempting to hide the eye roll. “It’s always for a friend, Stewart. But go on. Ask away.”

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me. Why I am so scared of even… I don’t know. Trying?”

“Because we get comfortable in our environment, and it becomes a safety blanket. We’re safe with what we know. Change is terrifying, whatever our circumstances. Just from my experience, I was deeply unhappy but had no idea how to get out of my own life. That’s a horrible place to be in. Are you unhappy?”

“I…this… Damn it, Mabel. You know what it’s like. I’m not unhappy. How can I be? I have my family, my sanity, mostly, and my health. I live in a lovely home, and I should just accept my fate and start gardening or something. But at the same time…”

I was on a roll. Another cup of coffee mysteriously appeared in front of me, and Mabel sat there, like some unhinged therapist dressed in blue silk and high heels, crossing their legs and gently leaning forward like they expected me to spill my internal musings all over them.

“I have no friends. I have nobody to talk to, and I’m a lonely old man. I can accept that. I even talk to the postman to lighten up my day. I go to Tesco and then do alittle work now and then. It should be enough, shouldn’t it?”

“Not necessarily. I think if I was stuck at home filing my nails and watching daytime TV, I would go mad. But that’s just me.”

I nodded vigorously. Been there, done that. Minus the nail filing. I had no idea where all these words were coming from, but I was obviously just that. Lonely. Sleep-deprived. Desperate for someone to talk to. Because the postman had actually started to avoid me and my chatter. I’d omitted that part from my little presentation. But I still talked, a confession leaving my mouth in stuttered spurts.

“You live your whole life in one way, and then one day, you wake up and you’re suddenly a completely different person. It’s exhausting. I have no idea who I am anymore. No idea at all. I wonder what’s happened to me. I am happy. I am satisfied. I don’t need anything or anyone because I have everything. I don’t need anyone else to complicate my life. I really don’t.”

“So this is the issue?” Mabel was staring at me so intently I squirmed.

Too much. I had no idea what I was doing here, why I had chosen to spill all my secrets over a formercolleague whom I barely knew. We’d never been close. Never talked about anything of substance apart from the weather and guest issues. And now I was doing this. Telling them…what, exactly?

“I’m sorry. I’m talking too much.”

“No, Stewart. You clearly have a lot going on in that head of yours. And if there is something I do know? Talking is helpful. If I can just remind you that in another part of my life, I wear a different hat. As a licensed therapist, I’m bound by certain privileges. Anything you tell me here, I will not pass on to anyone else. I’m absolutely honoured to listen to your thoughts. And if I can offer you any advice, I will gladly do so.”

Very Mabel. And I was suddenly torn.

I wanted to tell them everything, but at the same time, what was I doing here?

This, apparently, as I shuffled in my seat and cleared my throat.

“I’ve always been a totally straight guy, but now I’m thinking—have I wasted my entire life looking for something in the wrong places? Do I even want it? I don’t want it. I don’t want to meet someone, and I don’t wantanything else to change, and I most definitely do not want to…”

“Go on,” they encouraged quietly. “Get to the issue.”

“I don’t even know what the issue is.”

“You’ve met someone, and there is something there.”

Perceptive.

They always had been.

“And it frightens you, because it would be a huge change again. And you’ve already had enough upheaval, and you’re wondering if it would all be worth it.”

“Something like that,” I admitted, sinking back into the chair. Relief. I think that was what was flooding through me.

“How do you know if it’s worth it if you don’t try?” they asked, picking up a piece of pastry from the almost empty plate, taking a small bite as they waited for me to respond.

“Because if I crash and burn, I still have to live my life afterwards. And nothing will ever be the same again.”

“We all crash and burn. And we all get back up and dust ourselves down. It’s a very human thing.”

“Maybe I’m just not built for it. And I’m wondering if I’m even having these thoughts for the right reasons. Maybe I just look at my son and see all the happiness he has, and in a twisted, weird way, I think that if I go nab myself…” I lowered my voice. Shame. I hated that I felt it. “If I dated a man, that his happiness would somehow rub off on me.”

“Oh, Stewart.” They laughed out loud, only adding to my anxiety.