Gemotions

The digital clock on the dashboard blinked 10:59. I took a deep breath, steeling myself. The building loomed before me, the address matching the appointment confirmation. My palms were itching, and I kept wiping them on my pants. I should have cancelled.

The receptionist pointed me toward a door labeled "Dr. Peterson." My throat tightened. I felt utterly paralyzed. What if he still held a grudge? What if he remembered all the awful things I'd done? I felt a cold dread spread through my core.

He opened the door before I could even bring myself to knock. The smile on his face seemed almost…genuine. I managed a weak, “Hello.”