Chapter 269

The engine hummed like a lullaby, but my nerves remained on edge as I navigated the bustling city streets. The appointment with Dr. Morrison was only fifteen minutes away, and I had no idea what I was getting myself into.

Pulling into the parking lot, I exhaled a shaky breath and ran a hand through my hair, attempting to tame each strand after spending good deal tugging at them. Therapy was meant to help, they said. It was a safe haven to untangle the knots of the mind, yet the prospect of revealing the labyrinth of my thoughts to a stranger made my palms clammy.

I stepped into the therapist's office, my apprehension probably visible. The receptionist greeted me with a warm smile that failed to ease the turmoil in my chest. I fumbled with the clasp of my purse, suddenly feeling conspicuous under her perceptive gaze. After what felt like an eternity, I managed to mutter my name and appointment time.

Minutes trickled by slowly until my name resonated through the waiting room, signaling my turn to face the unknown. The door opened and Dr. Morrison emerged from her office, her presence exuding a comforting aura that eased some of my anxiety. Her smile was genuine, a flicker of recognition dancing in her eyes.

"Evie, it's wonderful to see you," Dr. Morrison greeted me, her voice gentle and reassuring. "Please, come in."

Relief flooded through me as I followed her into the office, the scent of lavender lingering in the air. The room was serene, adorned with lush paintings of lakes and crisply painted meadows. Dr. Morrison gestured toward a plush couch, inviting me to make myself comfortable.

"Would you like some tea?" she offered, gesturing to the tea set she had laid out on the table.

I nodded gratefully, clutching onto the lifeline she extended. As she prepared the tea, I sank onto the couch, the cushions embracing me like a cocoon. She handed me a cup and I thanked her softly, taking sip despite it being steaming hot.

Dr. Morrison settled into her chair, her gaze steady yet compassionate. "Let's start where you're comfortable, Evie. Take your time."

The weight of her words hung in the air, and I hesitated, unsure of where to begin. How does one unravel the tangled web of thoughts that had become their reality? Words seemed inadequate, yet they were all I had.

"I don't even know where to start," I admitted, my voice betraying the chaos within.

Dr. Morrison nodded understandingly. "Start wherever feels right. There's no rush, Evie. I'm here to listen."

Leaning back against the cushions, I closed my eyes, attempting to sift through the jumble of emotions clawing for attention. Memories, fears, and insecurities collided, each demanding to be heard. With a deep breath, I delved into the recesses of my mind, hoping to find a fragment of coherence.

“I don’t know…” I said wearily, my heartbeat already picking up in pace.

"Maybe tell me a bit more about yourself," Morrison prompted. “You’re a lawyer, right? I believe I’ve heard about you.”

I shifted uncomfortably on the couch, the weight of her inquiry pressing against my chest. I suppose she would know who I was before hand.

“Yes, I am,” I answered eventually. "I... I’ve actually been having some issues at work lately, but I don’t have much else going on in my life.”

Dr. Morrison observed me keenly, and her perceptive eyes stared deep into mine. "Evie, it feels like there might be more you're not sharing. That's okay. Take your time."

Her words hung in the air, coaxing me to peel back the layers I had fortified around my heart. Yet, the vulnerability of revealing the scars from my past felt like stepping onto thin ice. I skirted around the edges, circling the shadows that loomed over my childhood, masking the ache of abandonment with trivial complaints.

But Dr. Morrison persisted, navigating the delicate dance of patience and persistence. With each question, she chipped away at the barriers I had erected, her unwavering support a gentle nudge toward disclosure.

"It's just... everything feels overwhelming," I continued, my words hesitant. "I feel like I'm drowning in my own thoughts, like I'm trapped in a never-ending cycle."

Dr. Morrison listened attentively, scribbling notes onto her notepad at rapid speed. Her gentle encouragement spurred me on, each syllable a step toward liberation. I recounted tales of sleepless nights haunted by relentless doubts, of the suffocating weight of expectations, and the relentless pursuit of perfection.

"And my mother…I feel like I’ll never be good enough for her," I finally admitted, the words heavy with the burden I had carried for years. "She... she left us when I was so young."

The admission hung in the air, the silence pregnant with the weight of unresolved emotions. Dr. Morrison nodded, a silent invitation to delve deeper.

"Tell me more about that, Evie," she encouraged.

I recounted fragments of a fractured childhood, the void left by a mother's absence, and the scars it etched upon my soul. The ache of longing, the unanswered questions, and the bitter taste of abandonment…

Dr. Morrison listened intently, her probing questions coaxing out emotions I had long suppressed.

"It's like... she just vanished without telling anyone why," I murmured, the pain raw in my voice. "And now, after all these years, she's trying to waltz back into my life as if nothing happened."

"Evie, it's understandable to feel conflicted about her return," Dr. Morrison remarked, her voice a soothing melody amid the chaos. "Have you considered how this has affected you, your sense of trust, and your relationships?"

Her question struck a chord within me, stirring a whirlwind of emotions. “A lot of them have been affected by it, I’d say. No matter how hard I try, I can never just feel safe. I’m always on the lookout for a catch whenever I find happiness, as if it could never truly belong to me.”

Dr. Morrison nodded, jotting that down. “That’s common. Children who face abandonment tend to group up and apply that model to most of their relationships. Even the ones that are the most secure.”

“So I’m not wrong?” I blurted out, and I dropped my gaze in embarrassment. “I mean, it’s not weird for me to feel this way?”

"It's not weird at all, Evie," she reassured. "You're not alone in this."

Tears welled in my eyes, emotions surging to the surface like a tidal wave. She offered me some tissues to wipe my eyes, but as I took a few sheets, I noticed that the weight on my chest had lifted.

"I'm sorry for taking up so much of your time with that other nonsense," I murmured, guilt gnawing at my conscience. “I guess I was stalling a little.”

Dr. Morrison smiled warmly, waving a hand. "Evie, you haven't wasted any time. Progress, no matter how small, is invaluable. Let's schedule another session, shall we?"

Her encouragement almost made me cry some more, but I tried to hold it together as she checked her schedule for availability. With a nod, I agreed to another day. Whether I could wait until then was another question entirely.

I still had much to release. My mother and Bruce were jut the beginning. I sensed that Stella would become the next topic of discussion.

Of course, that’s if she wasn’t imprisoned before then.