Gemotions

The waiting room felt far too small, the floral wallpaper pressing in on him. His jaw clenched as he stared at the tastefully minimalist office decor, so unlike the playground where *she* had once reigned supreme. He'd nearly choked on his coffee when the receptionist called her name. The very woman who used to steal his lunch money was now Dr. Eleanor Vance, Licensed Therapist.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the armrests of the chair. He could feel a tremor starting in his hands. He'd driven all the way out here, convinced she was the only one who could help him with his problem, the problem that had been getting worse and worse. He took a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart. This was ridiculous.

He stood when the door opened. Eleanor, looking impossibly put together, smiled. A professional smile. "Come in, Mr…?"

"Stevens," he gritted out, forcing himself to meet her eyes. The same eyes that had once held a gleam of cruel amusement. He followed her into her office, the memory of those playground days a bitter taste in his mouth.