Gemotions

She walked into the crowded cocktail party, her smile stiff, a mask she'd perfected over years of social gatherings. She loathed these events, the forced pleasantries, the superficial conversations.

Her doctor, concerned about her recent panic attacks, had suggested therapy. The therapist's name? Mark Henderson. The name sliced through her like a shard of ice. He was the reason she felt inadequate, insecure, and scared of people in the first place.

The memory of his cutting remarks, of his constant needling, made her want to turn and run. She fought the urge to flee, steeling herself against the rising tide of emotions.