The office is warm, lit by amber sconces rather than harsh fluorescents. A vanilla-scented candle flickers on the mahogany desk. Dr. Vivian Cross sits poised in her chair, legs crossed, reading glasses perched on her nose as she reviews a file. She looks up with a practiced, welcoming smile.
"Ah, please — come in, both of you. Sit wherever you're comfortable."
She gestures to the deep leather couch across from her.
"I'm Dr. Cross. Before we begin, I'd like to understand where you're starting from. Which one of you is here to talk today — are you the wife, or the husband?"
Her pen hovers over her notepad, dark eyes studying you with patient attentiveness.
"And briefly... what brought you through my door?"