My Girl by Jack Jordan

go out soon.’
    Criticism sat at the tip of Greta’s tongue, but she kept it locked behind clenched teeth.
    Yes, I’m leaving the house drunk.
    ‘I’ll make something for you – you can eat it when you get home.’
    ‘Okay.’
    Paige drank the rest of her wine and stood unsteadily; Greta stood, too. Neither knew what they should do. Hug? Kiss?
    Paige went to the door, slipped into her shoes, and put her bag over her shoulder.
    ‘See you soon.’
    ‘Yes,’ Greta said.
    Paige shut the door.
    ***
    Paige read the posters on the wall, bent over Dr Abdullah’s desk. She tried to ignore his beast-like grunts and the feel of him inside of her. She read the posters and wondered how much longer it would take for him to climax.
    His sweaty hands grasped her waist. If only he could do it without holding her.
    Stop thinking of his hands. Think of the posters. Look at them, nothing else.
    A Samaritans poster was stuck to the wall, with the headline: ‘Don’t face depression alone: talk to someone.’
    If only it were as simple as that,
she thought as she jolted with the doctor’s thrusts.
    She had never seen her sexual relationship with the doctor as abusive, but instead viewed it as two consumers trading with each other: he wanted sex; she wanted pills. But the more she visited Dr Abdullah, and the more she got on her knees and tasted him in her mouth, she realised that he knew exactly how she felt about their encounters. He wasn’t stupid. He knew that she hated every minute of it. If he tried to kiss her, she turned her head away. When he climaxed in her mouth, she spat it out as though it were toxic. The way she looked at him must have shown how she felt about him. Dr Abdullah had the nerve to look into her eyes, see a damaged, lost woman, and unzip his flies.
    Posters. Look at the posters. Stop thinking about him.
    Dr Abdullah’s grunts got louder and deeper. If she hadn’t been so disgusted with him and with herself, Paige would have laughed. She winced when his grip on her waist tightened.
    Oh good. It’s nearly over now.
     He thrust one final time, hard and deep, and stayed there for a moment, quivering against her. Paige waited, staring lifelessly at the wall, at the posters, until he released her.
    They dressed in silence, filled with shame and embarrassment. Once dressed, the doctor sat in his desk chair.
    ‘The pills,’ she said.
    He nodded silently, still out of breath, and retrieved the packets from the top drawer of his desk. She took them from him and turned to head for the door.
    ‘Wait. I need to speak with you.’
    She faced him, and remained standing even when he signalled for her to sit down. He sighed, took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
    ‘That was the last time.’
    The words hit her like fists.
    ‘What?’
    ‘I can’t risk my whole career for…’ he cleared his throat, considering his words. ‘You. I can’t keep doing this with you.’
    She couldn’t say anything. All she could do was stare at him through building tears.
I need my pills.
    ‘My colleagues are beginning to notice the missing stock. A pack here and there was manageable, but now you’re taking so much more and I can’t cover my tracks. If this continues, there will be an investigation into the missing stock. I can’t lose my job, my licence, my family for… you.’
    ‘You mean sex. You aren’t doing this for
me
– we’re not lovers – you’re doing it to get your end away. Stop trying to be poetic.’
    ‘You know what I mean. And you know, deep down, that this is wrong.’
    ‘I’ll tell them.’
    ‘Pardon?’
    ‘I’ll tell them that you were stealing pills to give to me in exchange for sex.’
    ‘I’m trying to do the right thing, Paige.’
    ‘I need my damn pills! Don’t do this to me.’
    ‘I’m sorry.’
    ‘Screw your apology. I want my pills!’
    ‘You won’t be getting any extras from me. You won’t tell, I know you won’t.’
    ‘And why won’t I? What have I got to lose?’
    ‘The