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charming and well-reflected her personal style, due to her rather girly décor.
    She was giddy with excitement. It had occurred to her that men like Edwin, men who were cerebral, quite often, had to be sold on a concept. Yet she didn’t want to be so crass as to pitch him directly, entirely without subtlety, and brow beat her man with the beauty of permanent union.
    She knew that her best shot would be to subliminally sell her man on the idea that marriage was the end all and be all... to convince him, without obviously attempting to do so, without publicly efforting, and thus humiliating herself, to utterly convince him, that his happily-ever-after was entwined with her own.
    He had to see it and she had to find a way to make him do so.
    His future happiness resided in her heart, her arms, and her hand.
    “So, here's my plan. I am going to prove to Edwin that marriage is bliss. I've plotted it. It'll be subliminal… like a full-on hypnotic induction, except in reality,” Isis said into her headset.
    “Like how?” Emily’s voice squeaked through the headset. Isis could hear the stress and strain in her friend’s voice but she felt like her window of opportunity was closing with Edwin. It was weird how he had bailed on her the other night. Edwin had never been a man to pass up an opportunity for a romantic sexcapade with her. Could he be getting bored? God forbid.
    Isis felt like she had to close the deal and soon. Neither of them was getting any younger and Edwin was her ideal man. She knew that he was a catch. She’d regret it forever if she didn’t make her play for him because she knew that someone would.
    She felt a burst of pure rage at the thought of some other woman making a play for Edwin. Edwin didn’t speak French, yet the thought of him introducing some other woman as mon épouse, my spouse, made her blood boil. So, even if it was going to inconvenience Emily and Max, she had to enroll them in “the plan.”
    She was wildly in love with the man. Edwin was polished, settled and stable, had a calming presence, was competent and had his life sorted in so many ways. He was so thoughtful, in an intellectual, consider his every personal and professional move way. They were completely compatible, sexually, emotionally, mentally, even their energy levels. In the ways that they weren’t alike, they were harmonizing opposites. She’d dated several men, but never a man like Edwin.
    Race had never been an issue for either of them. She hadn’t planned for an interracial one true love and marriage; it had just happened. She knew that Edwin’s family had taken a little time to adjust, yet adjust they had. They had always been genteel and warm to her.
    “Like how?” Emily repeated. She had been doodling some ideas for a marketing plan and knew that she had to get off of the phone before she had to pick up little Max.
    “I'll show his unconscious and conscious mind some examples of marital delight, maybe a touching proposal and a happily ever after or two… then he'll figure out that that's exactly what he wants… with me. Que penses-tu de mon idée?” Isis asked.
    “I've no idea what you just said,” Emily’s voice could be heard to say.
    “I'll put ideas into his head, that’s the plan,” Isis said flatly. She was excited yet, at the same time, her tone indicated that she was feeling pretty desperate.

Chapter 8
    M AX STARED around. He studiously avoided looking at Dr. Charles. She wore an exceedingly flattering camel color professional suit in a vintage fitted cut. The office was decorated in subtle beige, peach, sandstone, and other muted colors.
    “Tell me about your concerns,” Dr. Charles said.
    “I, uh, I don’t know where to start,” Max admitted.
    “Why don’t you start at the beginning?” the therapist asked kindly.
    Max sighed and wondered if therapy was going to be of any use at all.

    ~
    Emily sat in the home office which she and Max shared. With her cell phone held against one ear