Gemotions

The lobby's sterile air seemed to prick at Amelia's skin. She sat rigid in the uncomfortable waiting room chair, carefully avoiding eye contact with anyone. The muted television droned on, but she couldn't focus on the images flickering across the screen. A knot of tension twisted in her stomach, a familiar companion she’d grown accustomed to ignoring.

A wave of nausea washed over her. She’d known this day was coming, but had naively hoped it would fade away. When the receptionist had called her name, Amelia’s heart had jumped into her throat. "Dr. Brenda Miller will see you now." The name, the face… it felt like a cruel joke of the universe.

The door to the office had a nameplate: Brenda Miller, MS, LMFT. A chill ran down her spine. The old ache of vulnerability, the memory of playground humiliation, threatened to consume her.