Gemotions

He’d recognized the name almost instantly. "David?" she’d said, her voice strained. She felt a heat creep up her neck as she recalled his sneering face from the schoolyard. The playground, the scene of so many humiliations, suddenly seemed to shrink her back to her twelve-year-old self. Now, he was Dr. Miller, licensed therapist. The irony was almost too much to bear.

She leaned back in the chair, her arms crossed, as he began to ask the usual probing questions. "So, tell me what brings you in today?" she asked, her voice laced with sarcasm. The room felt suddenly small, the air thick with unspoken memories.

He didn't flinch. Of course he didn’t. He was a professional now. He probably practiced looking empathetic in the mirror. She knew how he operated and his calm demeanor didn't make her feel any better.