Saul

I stared out of the window. It was dark, dismal, cold and wet. The weather is typical for January, but it is the perfect evening for my dreary mood. This was all my brother's fault. I was sure the bastard cut off my oxygen on the way out of our mother’s womb, leaving me with some kind of brain damage.

Why else would I have concocted such an elaborate plan for a complete stranger?

Seth fell in love with Katya when we were twenty-nine within a few months, and after our thirtieth birthday, he married her. I was more the fuck them and leave them type. There was never any need for more. If I was honest with myself, the majority of humans annoyed the fuck out of me. The women wanted two things from me—my dick or my wealth. Until Sirah, I needed more than a casual fling.

It took me years to adjust to having Katya in our family. She was one of the better ones, and she made Seth act like less of a cunt. I thought their marriage was a sure thing, like my parents, until Seth fucked it all up. A grim smile touched my lips. I watched my pompous brother turn into a hysterical mess. Yet, it made me curious.

How could a person love another to that degree?

I still don't know how it happened, but meeting Sirah changed everything.

Now?

Now, I was obsessed with her to the point that I may have crossed a few lines. My treacherous twin brother ratted me out, and I blamed him for where I was today. According to my mother, I needed professional help before marrying the woman I was obsessed with.

“Why don't you sit down?” the shrink said. “You were about to tell me where all the problems started.”

I turned towards the therapist my mother forced me to meet. I was thirty-six years old, and I was afraid of my mother blackmailing me into therapy. Seth always thought that I was her favourite for some bizarre reason. The woman was a menace to society, and I didn't understand why my father couldn't see it. Knowing my luck, he was in on it. They all were.

I sighed and sat on the couch, defeated. The therapist sat with his back rigid and a notepad ready in his hand. I put both my feet on the small wooden table between us to gauge his reaction. He was good. His face didn't change at all except for the slightest movement on his lips as they tightened.

The devil was always in the details.

I smiled, knowing that I’d managed to piss him off before I began to speak, remembering that I needed to be careful not to incriminate myself. The guy looked like a dirty snitch, just like Seth.

“It all started in the summer with my brother. Let’s refer to him as dickhead in these sessions—”