Page 74 of Sinful Scars

She’s dressed casually in a navy-blue sweater and jeans. In fact, everything about her practice feels casual and relaxed, which makes it so easy to forget that I’m in a doctor's office.

I talk to her in a way I imagine I would have talked to my own mom if she were alive. Though I doubt I would have admitted to her about sleeping with my stalker…

The thought has my cheeks burning as I get to my feet and follow Dr. Mills down the corridor toward her office.

This will be my second session this week. We agreed it would be best to do bi-weekly sessions for the first month to help me try and gain some control back over my thoughts.

So much has happened over the past few weeks, and I haven’t truly allowed myself to process it. Instead, I’ve buried my head in the sand, choosing to distract myself with work, and now sex, rather than focus on the underlying emotions surrounding it all.

“How have you been since I last saw you?” Dr. Mills takes a seat in her black, leather chair opposite me.

I sink into the plush couch, tucking my feet underneath me and hugging one of the sage green cushions to my chest. The color is a running theme throughout her office, and I find it soothing.

“Good.” I offer her a smile.

Dr. Mills only nods, reaching for her trusted notebook from the small table beside her chair that is no doubt filled with all sorts of deep, dark secrets.

“I will say I am a little concerned after our session on Monday.”

“Oh?”

I cringe as I recall Monday’s session. I mostly just talked about work, giving her an update on my life in the few yearssince I’d last seen her. It was all very surface-level, and every time Dr. Mills asked a deep question, I managed to somehow change the subject.

“I can’t help but feel that you were avoiding talking about something. Something that is clearly bothering you enough to want to restart therapy. Am I right in thinking that, Elle?”

I nod, my eyes stinging.

It seems I can’t avoid the subject forever, so I start to recount everything that has happened recently, from the kidnapping and the almost assault, down to the mystery man who not only saved me, but also admitted to stalking me.

As I speak, it almost feels like I’m reciting from a script, as if the events I’m speaking of didn’t happen to me but to someone else entirely.

“Did you contact the police?”

I shake my head as I fiddle with a loose thread on the cushion. “It’s…complicated. But the men who attacked me have been taken care of.”

“Legally?”

“Of course.” I force myself to meet her eyes.

Dr. Mills holds my gaze for a few seconds but ultimately decides not to push the subject. Though, I’m desperate to know what she’s writing as she scribbles more notes in her book.

“And this man who got you out…” She is still writing. “Has he contacted you again?”

“Yes.”

She pauses, her pen hovering over the page.

“A few times.”

Her mouth presses together in a thin line.

“Can I make an observation?”

“Of course.”

“You don’t seem overly frightened about this.”

“I’m not. Sort of the opposite.”

---