Gemotions

The waiting room smelled of antiseptic and something vaguely floral, like a funeral home. Mark tapped his foot, a restless rhythm against the polished floor. He stared at the name on the door: Dr. Evelyn Reed, LCSW. Evelyn Reed. The girl who used to steal his lunch money and call him "Four Eyes." Now, she had a doctorate. Mark felt a knot tighten in his stomach.

He fidgeted with the worn strap of his briefcase. The career he'd chosen, a decent enough one in accounting, suddenly felt…flat. Insignificant. He ran a hand through his thinning hair. A wave of heat washed over him as he recalled her, the way she'd always seemed so effortlessly confident, so certain of herself.

The receptionist, a woman with a kind smile, beckoned him. "Dr. Reed will see you now." He stood, the metal of his chair feeling cold beneath him. He took a deep breath, trying to steady the frantic beating of his heart.