The Therapist’s Touch: 4. Breathing Together

Evelyn hadn’t stopped thinking about him.

The shower ritual had consumed her nights—steam wrapping her body, hands gliding over trembling skin as she whispered his name like a prayer. Shame curled hot in her belly, but so did something else, something that felt dangerously close to hunger.

By the time her next session arrived, she was raw with anticipation. She couldn't wait to get to Dr. Cole. 

“Evelyn,” Dr. Cole greeted as she entered, his eyes raking over her with deliberate calm. He noticed everything—the way her blouse clung to her skin, the nervous wetness of her lips, the tremor in her hands.

“You’ve been practicing,” he said.

She flushed. “Yes, Dr. Cole.”

His gaze sharpened, satisfaction flickering across his features. “Good girl. Sit.”

She lowered herself into the chair, pulse already racing. She was sure he could hear her but there was nothing she could do to calm herself. 

“Tell me,” he began, “how did the exercise