Gemotions

She'd been making progress. For the first time in a long time, she was starting to feel hopeful. Therapy had been working. She thought she was doing better, but now this. The knowledge that *he* was the one she had to see, had to trust, to truly get better.

The receptionist called her name. Her heart leapt into her throat. She closed her eyes, trying to compose herself, trying to fight back the memories that threatened to overwhelm her. The images of him rose up. She imagined his office, the chairs, the questions.

She took a deep breath. She could still walk away, she knew. She could turn around and leave. The thought offered a brief moment of solace. But then she thought of everything she had worked toward. She had no choice.