Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash. Liam stirred the granules aimlessly in the cup, watching the steam curl and dissipate. He hadn't spoken to another person, besides the barista, since Tuesday. A heavy weight settled in his chest, making each breath feel strained.

His gaze drifted to the flyer pinned to the community board. "Free group therapy session," it proclaimed, the words blurring around the edges. He needed to get out of the apartment, the four walls closing in, pressing down on him.

He almost choked on his own saliva when he read the therapist's name: Mark Jensen. The same Mark Jensen who’d made his school years a misery. Could he even bring himself to sit in a room with him, knowing what a jerk he used to be?