Gemotions

The coffee cup trembled in Emily's hand, sloshing dark liquid onto the pristine white countertop of Dr. Peterson’s office. She hadn't expected the building to be so… quaint. It was a cottage, really, with a little porch swing. The image of that porch swing, of all things, made something twist inside her gut.

She’d spent the last week researching therapists, filtering through bios and reviews. She’d been ready to just start over. But then *his* name had popped up. Brian Peterson. The name struck her like a physical blow.

His door opened, and Brian emerged. He was dressed casually, a flannel shirt and jeans, looking like he belonged on that very porch swing. He smiled, a genuine, friendly smile. Emily wanted to scream.

"Emily, come on in. It’s nice to finally meet you."

She gripped the coffee cup harder. It felt too hot.