Gemotions

He saw her name on the directory. Dr. Thomas Blackwood – Psychotherapy. The same Thomas Blackwood who used to torment him in the schoolyard, the one who’d tripped him in the mud and laughed as he struggled to his feet. Now, he was helping people.

A cold shiver snaked down David's spine. He'd considered therapy, briefly, after the divorce. But he'd dismissed the idea. Weakness, he’d told himself. He could handle things on his own.

He slammed the phone back onto the receiver, the plastic cracking slightly. He hated the way his hands were trembling. He hated the way a picture of Thomas, handsome and assured, flashed in his mind.