Gemotions

The coffee tasted like ash in her mouth. She’d been avoiding the therapist’s office for weeks, but the pressure within her built with each passing day. Her nails dug into her palms.

The receptionist called her name. Her breath caught in her throat. She stood, her legs unstable.

She opened the door to find him. It was impossible. Jake, the kid who had made her life a misery, sat behind a desk, looking impossibly calm and collected.

“Come in, Chloe,” he said, his eyes meeting hers. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face, gone too quickly to decipher. She could not stop the sharp intake of breath.