Gemotions

The elevator ride felt interminable, each floor a fresh stab of anxiety. He kept replaying the events in his mind, the sharp sting of loss, the crushing weight of emptiness. He’d seen the therapist’s name online, a last-ditch effort. But then, it clicked. It couldn't be. The memory was clear as day. "Daniel Hayes, LPC."

The office itself was bland, anonymous. He sat in a chair, forcing himself to breathe, his heart hammering against his ribs. He felt like he was suffocating.

The door opened and Daniel stood there, a smile plastered on his face. He extended a hand. "Please, come in. Have a seat." Daniel. It was him. He felt his face heat, and his vision swam. The air seemed thin. He wanted to shout, but the words were stuck in his throat.