Gemotions

Rain lashed against the windows of the therapy office. Sarah clutched her coffee cup, the ceramic strangely cold against her trembling fingers. She hadn’t expected to see *him* here. Mark. The bane of her existence in middle school. The thought of divulging her deepest anxieties to the kid who used to shove her into lockers and steal her lunch money was… unsettling. He looked older, of course. His jaw was sharper, his hair meticulously styled. She saw the name plate: "Mark Harrison, Licensed Therapist."

A hesitant knock echoed from the door. Sarah took a deep breath, steeling herself. He entered, a professional smile plastered across his face. But as his eyes met hers, it flickered. A ghost of a past recognition danced in his eyes before he quickly composed himself. His gaze softened, and he gestured towards the chair. "Sarah, right? Please, have a seat."