" I think I'll have to handle criminal cases for now", I said to Sasha the next day. " I had thought about it all through the night, and I don't just think that I'm ready to put all that happened behind me".
I saw my reflection on the glassy center table, and even though the image was vague and unclear, the heavy bags under my eyes sparked immediate attention, putting itself out very noticably, just like how the sun took up attention on a sunny day.
She looked at me with a neutral expression, and I couldn't help but wonder what was going through her mind. Even though she had abandoned her Therapist profession to venture into travel writing, I could still tell that she was analyzing my situation and decision, and probably thinking of appropriate words to use in relaying her thoughts. The therapist was still in her.
" You are quite sure that you gave it a long thought?" She asked, taking her eyes away from me for a sec to place the kettle on the burner.
" Yes, I did", I said, nodding and wondering if the bags under my eyes were not enough proof. I particularly checked the time I went to sleep, and even I was surprised when I saw that it was 3:00 AM in the morning. What the hell was I thinking about till 3:00 AM?
" I just think that it is the right thing to do for now, at least until I get used to seeing Hakim's face all the time", I quickly added, " if I should just fly into training under him, I fear that I might stab him to death with a pen one day".
" Well, you've drawn out your analysis, and if this is where you've come to place your conclusion, I have nothing else to say except for good luck, but as you said, once you feel like you can handle it, go back and start your training with him, okay?" She said, her eyebrows raised, and they only returned to where they were supposed to be after she saw me nod, clearing the constructive waves that had formed on her forehead.
" Come on, take a seat, I'll brew us some coffee", she said, moving in circles around the kitchen.
She was the friend I never had while growing up, or at least, the one I should have had, instead of Hakim, and I was grateful that she had become a part of my life.
As she was brewing the coffee, she took out some eggs and hotdogs, and like a pro, broke the egg using the other egg, and broke the other one with just one hand.
" How do you even do that?" I asked.
" Do what?"
" Break an egg using another egg. Like, why is it that just one egg ends up breaking and not the both of them, and why is it that it is the one that you intend to break that always ends up breaking?"
" Well, when you have a chef for a mom, you'll learn all these tricks", she said. She was never one to always talk about her mom, but when she rarely did, it was something magnificent. Sometimes she would drop little stories of how her mom used to bring her to the restaurant on weekends, and how she'd dress up as a waitress and attend to customers. She told a story of a particular customer who kept complaining that the steak was uncooked even when it's color had changed completely into black from being burnt, and how another customer also complained that his steak was overcooked, annoying her mother so much that she (her mother) served him a plate of uncooked beef and said to him " here's your perfectly cooked steak".
" Those folks? They were the real reason why I ventured into psychiatry. Their lives could've been made better with a therapist, and I thought I had to be one", she had said while talking about them.
She made scrambled eggs and toast bread, and we ate in comfortable silence as we both went through our phones, spanning social media for the latest celebrity gossip.
News was going around that Meghan Markle and Prince Harry were going through tough times in their marriage, and it might lead to an eventual divorce.
" Are you seeing what I'm seeing?" She asked in-between chunks of bread and eggs in her mouth, " Meghan Markle and Prince Harry, likely to get a divorce?"
" I am definitely as shocked as you are. Prince Harry is claiming that the media is out for her and the affluence is straining their marriage", I said, slowly biting on my bread. If I were to munch on it like Sasha, I would definitely choke.
" I don't even know why I'm surprised, it was expected", she took another bite of the toast bread and a sip of the coffee, and I felt the urge to question if she was drunk from the coffee or something.
" What do you mean you're not surprised? Those two were the couple of the century, the first of their kind, and the fact that they had prevailed against all odds and eventually got married is proof of their ever bounding love", I tried to defend them, that human instinct to protect the stance of people that we cared about gently slipping into me.
" Well, if you look at the situation logically, their marriage is unstable, not because of lack of love, but lack of the real essence of duty, and besides, they are not the first of their kind. Meghan is not the first biracial person to be married into the royal family. The first was queen Charlotte".
I didn't have the strength to argue with her about the fact that queen Charlotte was not biracial, but had a trace of black race in her genealogy; a rumor per say, that she had a mullato great grandmother.
" What do you mean that they lack the sense of duty? Does that even mean something?" I asked, checking the wall clock and having another bite of the toast bread. It was definitely tasty.
" It definitely means something, okay? They both left their duties as the Duke and Duchess of Sussex, came to the U.S, and are busy going on every TV platform, talking about how they were bullied by William and Kate".
" That is because they were actually bullied".
" No, of course not, it is only because of the fact that they love the attention they get from public sympathy, and that makes them always want to play the victim".
I was completely speechless.
" That's not true".
Yes, I knew too well that Meghan was the type to seek public admiration, including Harry, just like his mother, princess Diana, but that didn't mean that they were playing victim. They were unjustly treated.
" It is, no matter how much you try to deny it. Okay, take for instance, in that book of his...um... I can't remember the name, but while writing a book on his childhood experience in the palace, Harry was whining about being the spare, about William's room being bigger than his because William was the heir and he was just the spare. Like, dude, you are the spare, and it is nobody's fault that you are, so why complain about not getting equal treatment, and the inequality of the treatment is just based on trivial matters like who got the bigger room, not even on substantial things like inheritance. I'm sorry to say this, but after going through that book, I came to the realization that he is a victim of his own stupidity".
" Oh my gosh, Sasha!"
" What? It's true, and Meghan isn't even helping matters. Even princess Anne said that she wouldn't be able to fit into royal life. She's just too much of a drama queen".
" You know what? I'm done with this conversation", I stood up, draining the last drop of coffee from my cup, " I have to get to work".
" Okay. Tell Hakim I said hello", she said, grinning.
" You can come and tell him yourself, since you don't have anything to do".
" Nah, I don't wanna snatch him from you", mischievousness slipped into her eyes.
" Oh please", I said, and rushed upstairs to get ready for work, thinking about how I was going to survive another day with Hakim.