“I want to rid myself of my cancer,” I recited, like I’d heard others do so many times before at retreats and in meetings.

“Bullshit.” He shook his head in disgust. I’d never heard him swear. I pulled back, shifting away from him. “Why are you really here?” he asked. My mind drew a blank, his dramatic shift throwing me off. “Would you like me to help you?”

“You know what? I don’t appreciate the way you’re speaking to me right now,” I said, straightening my back.

“Oh, I’m sorry. Would you prefer that I tiptoed around you?” he sneered.

“What’s wrong with you today?” I’d never seen him act this way. He’d been confrontational before, but never like this, and certainly not mean.

“Were you expecting this to be easy?” Challenge filled his eyes.

“No, but I didn’t think you’d act like this,” I said.

“All I want is for you to be honest.”

“I am being honest.”

He shook his head. “Please. We both know you’re lying.”

“What are you talking about? I love my life.” I scooted as far as I could until my back was pressed up against the door.

“Bullshit,” he said again.

“You know what?” Anger surged through me, bringing me to my feet. “I didn’t come here for this.” I turned around and reached for the knob.

“If you leave out that door right now, don’t plan on coming back.” His voice was steady, calm.

I whipped back around. “What happened to ‘You can come and go as you please’? I thought you weren’t anybody’s dictator?”

He remained seated. “Every individual who walks through these doors is unique.”

“And I’m the one that you chose to be a controlling jerk with?” I glared at him. “Thanks. Truly flattered.”

“Fear is ruling your heart right now. If you leave, you’re letting fear win, and we can’t have that here.” His face was set in stone.

“I’m not afraid,” I said, but I didn’t believe myself any more than he did.

“Are you sure you want to leave?” he asked. I hesitated with my hand on the door, and he jumped on my uncertainty. “You’re here because you’re bored with your life and want more. The things you used to love are stifling you to the point where you feel like you can’t breathe.” I slowly slid down the wall onto the floor, crossing my arms on my chest to protect myself from his truths. “You are tied to the life you created when you were a teenage girl to survive, but that life no longer serves you. Yet you can’t let go of it. Am I getting close?”

I stuck my chin out like a defiant toddler. “You don’t know me.”

He shook his head. “It’s you, Kate, that refuses to know yourself.”

Tears welled in my eyes. I brushed them away. I didn’t want to cry because then he’d know he was right. My skin itched with the threat of exposure.

“What happened to make you feel so indebted to this life?” he asked.