Gemotions

The aroma of freshly brewed coffee swirled around Amelia as she entered the therapist's waiting room. Sunlight streamed through the large window, illuminating dust motes dancing in the air. She sat down, her back straight, a small smile playing on her lips. She had decided to seek therapy after a recent breakup, and the receptionist had booked her with… *him*. Mark, her childhood tormentor. The thought, once a source of dread, now felt more like an interesting hurdle.

Her heart rate quickened slightly as she heard her name called. The office was minimalist, calming, with a single abstract painting on the wall. Mark, looking older, with kind eyes and a welcoming smile, rose to greet her. He gestured towards a comfortable chair. He looked different, gentler somehow.

“Amelia, it’s good to see you,” he said, his voice measured. He spoke without a hint of the bravado she remembered. The appointment went well. She spoke freely, without fear. The knot of anxiety that had been residing in her chest began to loosen. She felt lighter, unburdened. Leaving, she felt a quiet satisfaction.