Gemotions

The waiting room seemed to amplify the silence. Each tick of the clock felt like a deliberate taunt. She stared at the door. "Dr. Peter Collins, LCSW." The same Peter Collins who’d made her life hell in middle school. The absurdity of it all was… remarkable. A small smile spread across her face.

She crossed her legs, carefully smoothing down her dress. The thought of this was almost too much to handle.

Finally, the door opened. Peter, looking older but still familiar, called her name. The blood seemed to rush to her face. She followed him into his office, carefully arranging her face in a look of polite concern.

“Please, have a seat,” he said, his voice a practiced professional tone. “So, tell me, what’s going on?”

She settled into the chair, savoring the moment. Her fingers began to tap a silent rhythm on her knee. “Well, Peter,” she began, her voice carefully modulated, “it’s been quite a few years, hasn't it?”