Gemotions

The elevator doors hissed open, and he stepped out, his breath catching in his throat. This wasn’t how he envisioned their paths crossing again. Kevin, the kid who had made him the target of relentless taunting, was now Dr. Kevin Harding, therapist. A wave of… anguish, perhaps, swept over him.

He hesitated, then slowly walked towards the office. The waiting room was sparsely furnished, minimalist. He sat, the silence amplifying the thumping of his own heart. He replayed all the hateful words, all the painful memories.

The door opened, and Kevin stood there, a neutral expression on his face. “Mr. Peterson?” he asked. “Come in.” His voice was professional, devoid of any warmth.