Gemotions

The fluorescent lights in the waiting room seemed to throb, amplifying the pressure building inside her chest. Susan felt like she was being slowly crushed, her muscles rigid, her breath shallow and uneven. Her doctor had suggested therapy, and she had reluctantly agreed. She’d made the appointment without thinking about the therapist’s name, or what he looked like. Now, staring at the name on the door, she felt a profound sense of horror. Trevor Davies, LCSW.

She considered pretending to have forgotten the appointment, calling in sick, or any other excuse to avoid the inevitable. Her mind raced, desperate for an escape. Yet, she had to face it, right? It was a necessity.

The door clicked open, and he stood there. His face was set in a professional, neutral expression, but she saw the hint of a smirk.
"Susan? Please, come in."