Un-Love Potion

I was hurrying to make my appointment on time- this doctor was in high demand with interested patients, and losing the appointment potentially meant waiting months for a new one. The thought of waiting for a new appointment gave me so much anxiety that I pressed the gas pedal on my tiny hatchback to encourage it to go faster.

He promised something I had been dreaming of for some time now; and if he indeed delivered on what he had promised I was sure that I could finally be happy.

I parked in an available space in the parking lot of the doctor’s office and dashed inside, making it in at 8:57- three minutes to spare for my appointment. The front desk receptionist glanced up at the wall clock then back at me and smiled, “Ms Baxter?” she asked. I nodded yes breathlessly. “The doctor will be with you shortly,“ she said then pulled out a file and walked through a door marked “Doctor”.

I sat in the waiting room and looked around. It was simply decorated - a few magazines on the coffee tables, a single potted plant forlornly sitting in the corner. As I was about to reach for a magazine to mindlessly thumb through, the receptionist called my name. I felt a surge of excitement...would I finally be free?

I walked into the doctor’s office- definitely nicer than the waiting room. It had thick, dark furniture, heavy dark curtains, a dark brown bookshelf with an impressive collection of books, seemingly both fiction and non- fiction. The doctor- a grey headed gentleman stood from his chair and walked around the desk towards me, arm outstretched. “Miss Baxter,” he smiled warmly and grasped my hand giving it a firm handshake. He had a small chip in his left incisor. It was an endearing flaw. “Please sit down, “he suggested and gestured to one of the thick oppressive chairs. I sat; it was more comfortable than it looked.

“So” he sat and clasped his hands together and placed his forearms on the desk, a long pause followed…“with whom would you like to fall out of love with today?”

“I would rather not say Doc,” I felt insecure and self-conscious.

“I understand being shy but it always helps for me to get a profile on the object of the client’s affections...it helps me to determine the right proportions for ingredients for the potion.”

“The un-love potion?”

“Yes.”

I was still reluctant.

He sensed my reluctance. “Okay, let’s start at the beginning. Why don’t you tell me where you two met?”

“In a book store..”

It wasn’t exactly a lie. How could I tell him that I saw the “object of my affection” 2 months ago on a Sunday in a book store, thumbing through a book, my book?  I was a semi-successful published author and had been in the habit of using my Sundays to spy on my book in the stores that carried it. Trying to see if people were interested or not, just by the looks on their faces. That particular Sunday, he had picked up my latest book, read something and smiled. Then read something else and laughed. I bristled with happiness... I was hooked.

 I followed him around the store after that, trying to be inconspicuous. When he circled back to the shelves, picked up my book and bought it I nearly cried with joy.

“Why don’t you tell me why you fell in love with him?”

“He was so supportive of my career”

I wanted to be forthright but I was not ready to tell him that I had followed the patron out of the store and down the street to a coffee shop. He had sat in the window and started to read my book. I sat in the corner in the back, ordered myself a latte and watched him. Two hours and 2 coffees later he got up and walked out. I hurriedly paid for the 5 lattes I had drunk and quickly followed him out the door.

 I crossed to the other side of the street to not seem too obvious. I walked behind him for about 15 minutes and watched him walk into an apartment building. I assumed it was his home. I confirmed it the next morning when around 7am I watched him leave to go to what I assumed was his workplace.

I confirmed it was indeed his workplace when I followed him to an office building and he was in there until 5pm. It was a good thing that I was self-employed or else I would never have found the time to get to know him so well.

We followed our daily routine for a month.  We went from home to his work place and then to lunch at the sandwich shop across the road from his office, then home at around 6pm. It was the perfect relationship. We were together and apart when I wanted to be. A few Sundays when we went to our usual coffee shop, he toted my novel along with him- the pink spine visibly tucked under his arm while he walked along the streets.

One Sunday he forgot his handkerchief on his usual table. I quickly scooped it up on my way out of the shop behind him. I kept that blue striped handkerchief with me always, sometimes sniffing it and rubbing its soft material against my face.

“And why do you now want to fall out of love with him?”

 I answered thoughtfully, “the relationship has become burdensome, I give and give, and get next to nothing in return.”

It was true. When he had finished my book, he had never gone to buy another. There was an instance where he had gone to the bookstore and walked right past my other literary works. How had he not searched for my other books? Hadn’t he enjoyed the first one? I felt betrayed. After that it had started to become emotionally harder and harder to follow him to work and home and back. I had even stopped writing; how could I when my thoughts were consumed with him and the sting of his betrayal? Sitting in the coffee shop every Sunday and watching him drink his black coffee while he read someone else’s book had felt like a knife to the back. The relationship just wasn’t working.

Soon thereafter I had seen an ad in the paper and nearly spat out the water I had been drinking. It advertised the services of an “Un-love” specialist. The ad was almost full page with a picture of the specialist posing with his thumbs up and a big grin. According to the ad, the specialist would make anyone fall out of love with anyone they wanted to, with “satisfaction guaranteed”. I stared at the ad for a long time before slowly picking up the phone and dialling the featured number to make an appointment.

“To create the potion I will only need a few things- namely a personal effect of his, and a picture of him”.

He stood as if to imply that the consultation was over. “Why don’t you collect these items and come back to me? My receptionist will give you a follow up appointment.”

“No need doctor,” I said as I reached into my purse and pulled out a large manila envelope, “I have both right here.”

He sat back down, looking mildly surprised, and a little annoyed. Clearly he had not expected to spend so much time with me. He opened the envelope.

“Did you like that book? “ I asked pointing at the bookshelf.

“Which?” he asked absentmindedly as he studied the contents of the envelope with a puzzled look on his face

“The one with the pink spine” I answered. I glanced fondly upon my book, nestled between an anatomy and a chemistry book on his bookshelf, its glossy pink spine unmistakeable.

He didn’t answer or look up. He slowly pulled a blue striped handkerchief from the envelope. Then he extracted the full page ad of himself. His face slowly took on a look of surprised comprehension.

“So what do you say Doc, “ I smiled calmly, as his gaze went from me to the handkerchief to the ad with his face splashed across it,

“Can you make me fall out of love with you?”

END