The Therapist’s Touch: 9. Grounding

Evelyn almost cancelled the session. Twice, she picked up the phone to leave a message and twice she set it down again. The thought of seeing him made her stomach twist, yet the idea of not seeing him left her hollow.

She arrived ten minutes early, her hands cold despite the heat outside. The waiting room looked the same as always: quiet, sterile, a small vase of lilies on the table. Their scent had always calmed her before; now it only reminded her of him.

The door to his office opened precisely on the hour.

“Evelyn,” Dr. Cole said, his voice smooth as always. “Come in.”

She obeyed.

He closed the door behind her with deliberate care. The sound of the latch falling into place made her pulse jump.

“You’ve read the book,” he observed, gesturing toward the copy she carried.

“Yes.” She set it down, unable to meet his eyes. “I’ve been… trying to breathe again.”

“Good.” He motioned for her to sit. “Tell me how it feels.”

Evelyn hesitat