Gemotions

"Dr. Anya Petrova?" The receptionist’s voice was polite, but to him, it was a siren’s call. He stood up, stomach churning. He could see the door to her office, and the memory of all the times she laughed, and how loud she laughed, was all he could see.

He wanted to bolt, but instead, he felt his feet lock in place. The humiliation, the shame, still clung to him like a second skin. He had to remind himself it was not him anymore, but a different person, now. He felt his face flush. He was not a child anymore, and this was not the same situation.

He squared his shoulders and walked towards the door.