Gemotions

It was a small world, the universe seemed to have decided. After years of avoiding our town, I was now sitting in the same waiting room, facing the same impossible situation. Gary, my childhood tormentor, was a *licensed therapist*. The irony of it all was overwhelming.

My fingers traced the edges of the worn magazine I held, not reading a word. His office door opened. Gary emerged, looking older, yes, but still retaining that air of confident command. His gaze met mine. A flicker of recognition crossed his face, a slight widening of his eyes.

He beckoned me in with a gesture. My heart hammered against my ribs, an erratic rhythm that echoed the sheer audacity of this moment. I followed him, barely able to breathe.