Gemotions

The elevator ride felt interminable. Her stomach clenched with each floor she passed. She fiddled with the strap of her purse, a nervous tic that had become increasingly frequent. The elevator doors opened, and she walked down the hall, each step feeling like an insurmountable hurdle. The world around her seemed to shrink, the sounds muffled, the colors muted. She wanted to turn around, to flee.

She hesitated in front of the door with the nameplate: "Dr. Kevin Bradley." Her breath hitched. Kevin Bradley? The same Kevin Bradley who used to… The memories flooded back, sharp and painful. The door opened. He looked up, his expression unreadable.

“Come in, Jessica,” he said, gesturing towards the plush armchair.