Gemotions

The world felt muted, as if someone had turned down the volume on life. Everything seemed pointless. She'd found the therapist's name on a flyer tucked into her mailbox. It was a last resort, a desperate act. The name, however, brought back a flood of memories she'd hoped to keep buried. Mark Harrison. He’d made her life a living hell. She was certain she would recognize his voice.

The office was tastefully decorated, with abstract art on the walls and a soothing, almost clinical, atmosphere. She felt her hands trembling as she sat down, the chair suddenly too soft, the room too quiet. She had arrived five minutes early.

When the door opened, he looked different. Older, of course, but also… different. The arrogant smirk was gone, replaced by a look of professional composure. He smiled, a genuine smile, and said, "Hello, I'm Mark. Please, come in." She stared at him, stunned, the words catching in her throat, the lump too heavy to swallow.