Gemotions

The sign in the lobby read: “Dr. Kevin Miller, Clinical Psychologist.” David’s hand tightened around the referral. He’d been struggling, and therapy was supposed to help. But as he followed the receptionist, a sense of unreality settled over him.

The therapist’s door opened, and David nearly tripped. Standing before him was Kevin Miller, the bane of his childhood existence. Kevin, who used to delight in making him cry. He felt a sudden, sharp ache in his chest, and his hands turned clammy.

Kevin’s expression softened, a look David had never witnessed before. “David? Wow. Come on in.” He gestured to a plush armchair.

David moved, feeling like he was watching a play.

“So,” Kevin said, “what can I help you with?”