Falling For His Therapist

Last Minute Appointment

Amelia Manna:

Beep! beep! Beep! beep!

The alarm boomed on my bed side awaking from my slumber. It's mid summer, so the sun has already crept into my room giving it much light. I sigh as I turn off the alarming clock slumping on my back. After a long deep breath, I throw the blanket aside stepping out if bed.

I walk opening the huge sliding door, stepping into the balcony. My room stood high above the city, I could see miles of the city.

Down below I could hear the busy activities of cars, hooting, engines revving, people shouting from all directions. It's still early in the morning but the rush was real.

Though I was out here to enjoy the fresh morning air. Well not so much fresh with city polution, but it'll do. The warm rays of the rising sun warming my skin.

I groan when my second alarm rings again. With a heavy sigh I leave the balcony back to my bedroom. Turning off the alarm I head straight to the shower. I strip my clothes, getting inside the shower before letting the hot water hit my skin. I wish I can stay here all day, but the unfortunate part is I couldn't.

Soon my shower time was finished, and I already stood in front of the mirror putting my clothes. A white blouse, with a tight fit skirt that reached below my knees. I proceed by adding my black blazer jacket.

Reaching for my bag and phone, I stride out of the room into the hallway. Only to bump into someone on my way as I reach the stairs.

“Amelia!? Why are you going in such a hurry so early in the morning?" she questions startled as she tightenes her silk gown around her waist.

“Not that you care. But I'm going to work ," I respond attempt to move past.

She chuckles, “ Ohh well, good for you. You'll be needed the job very soon," she says. “ Have a nice day at work honey. And don't about dinner tonight," she smiles as she continues up the stairs.

“How can I ever forget," I mummer making my way down the stairs.

“Toodles!" She shouts watching me from above. I roll my eyes as I ignore her. Its so early in the morning to let anyone ruin my day. “ Grace! That better be ready soon!" I hear her shout as I turn around the corner.

“Coming Ma'am!" Grace shouts back, almost with rage. My typical mornings.

I meet grace already waiting with a cup of coffee. “Here's your coffee Miss Summers," she hands it to me, beaming as always. She's such a lively soul. Kind and caring, and always knows how to put a smile on my face.

“Thank you grace, “ I shoot her a warm smile of appreciation.

“Ohh!" As if just remembered something Grace turns away hurrying to the kitchen. She comes back holding a small container in her hand. “I wanted you to have these. They should go well with the coffee," she hands it to me. I take it, inspecting it to see that it has cookies inside.

“Cookies?" I question both amazed and curious. “Grace you didn't have to—”

" Nonsense. It was my sister's anniversary yesterday and she asked me to bake some cookies as a gift for her husband,” she tells me.

" I'm sorry I didn't know it was your sisters anniversary yesterday... “ feeling guilty that I didn't even know his sister's anniversary is coming.

" Don't worry about it. My family matters are none of your business. These are the extra cookies, and I thought you should have them, “ she brushes it off with her usual radiance.

" But—"

“No buts Miss Summers," she cuts me off. “Now go, you're going to be late for work," she shoos me away. I only manage to smile, defenseless.

“Thank you, Grace," I wave turning away.

“It was nothing. Enjoy your day! “ She waves back with a bright smile on her face.

“You too. Ohh well... Try to have a good day," I glance up the stairs with a smile. She chuckles knowingly.

“I'll try," she slips to the kitchen. I chuckle shaking my head as I continue to the elevator.

“... Where's that breakfast!" I hear Lillian screech from upstairs. I let out a soft breath as I press the button. The door soon slides open allowing me to step inside. With seconds to spare, I was already on the ground floor. A few people greet me as I pass, followed by whispers right after. And I try my best to ignore them as I know I have a long day ahead of me. And this is just a start.

I step outside the building welcomed by the bustling noise of activities. I walk towards a car that's already waiting for me.

Soon we are sweeping through the busy streets. Trevor didn't talk much, so most of the time the ride was silent. For the moment I enjoy my cookies and the coffee. I never really liked eating in the car, but now it's becoming second nature. Especially since I can't spend a few minutes in what I call home, without feeling like I'm suffocating.

Soon the car comes to a stop, and I step out. “ Thank you Trevor," I address the young man on the drivers sit.

He smiles in return.“It was my pleasure Mrs. Summers. Have a nice day," he waves. Soon the car speeds, disappearing into the busy streets.

I turn around to meet familiar walls. The building wasn't big, but it was still eligant. I walk towards the doors, welcomed by quietness, different from the streets. A few people in the waiting room, waiting for their next appointment. I greet some of the stuff, as I find my way to my office.

“Amelia! Finally!" Jane comes striding towards my direction.

“Jane? Good morning to you too, “ I raise a questioning eyebrow. Her expression softens as she plants a smile on her face.

" I'm sorry. But we need your help. A last minute appointment ," she frowns.

I retort as my eyes widen. “ An appointment? No one told me about an early appointment," I remind her still confused.

“Sorry dear. Change of plans. It was last minute changes," she says to me. Still I didn't understand, why they didn't at least call, so that I know.

“What? Why wasn't I informed? What about my 10 o'clock appointment?" I beckon still not understand the last minute change.

“Don't worry about your appointment hunny. It's still happening, they just added another early appointment. And I also didn't know, they made agreements with Priya," she argues. “I understand you're not prepared for this—”

" Of course I'm not prepared for this. I don't know a thing about this person. The pecks of telling me about new clients before, is that I get to revise them before I even speak to them. Right now I don't even know what I'm dealing with, I'm blank, “ I protest.

" Sorry honey. I would take him, but my 8 o'clock appointment is about to start, “ she checks her wrist for time. But I know Janes schedule. She didn't have any appointments until afternoon.

“8 o'clock — appoi— what? “ I stammer shook.

" You don't need to worry. I'm sure you'll do just fine, “ she sighs her eyes darting darting on the room behind me . I turn to see through the glass frame a guy slouched on the couch, his foot dangling on the arm rest, while the other kicks near the table. Feeding on a cigarette polluting the whole area with smoke. I nearly cringe as I watch the scene almost in horror.

“Why am I getting the feeling we are trying to avoid this guy," I turn to Jane. She smiles sheepishly stealing another look of the horrid scene. " Couldn't Priya deal with this? “ I ask.

"She's attending a meeting but she'll be responsible for the next appointments, “ she responds. Why is everyone busy all if the sudden? And I can't run away from my job.

" Well couldn't you find someone else? Not to be unprofessional, but I'm not really... “ I trail off again looking at the guy.

" Here's the file. And it won't be long, just thirty minutes. You introduce yourself, ask a few questions. That's it, “ she responds as though it was easy as she says.

She frowns glancing at him once more. “ You'll be fine, “ she pats my shoulder before walking away. I heave a long breath before walking towards the small room.

Believe me I love my job, a lot. I wouldn't trade for anything. I love helping people. Hearing people's struggles, and helping them overcome. Being there through every step of their progress, and showing them someone cares. I know I can't heal broken hearts, solve people's problems, and give them a happier future. But I can always help them find that for their selves, and be the encouraging voice.

But with my current circumstances, I'm not really sure I want to deal with this. Especially when I'm not even prepared. I always study my clients, get to know them, try to understand them.

I push the door to the stenchy smell of tobacco.

“Good Morning Sir, ' I greet closing the door behind me. Either he didn't hear me or is just ignoring me. " I'm very sorry Sir, but we don't allow smoking in our building, “ I mutter, addressing him. He barely looks at me, that I wonder if he's even paying attention at all.

" Took you long enough, “ he replies, nibbling on his cigarettes. “I'm starting to get sick of this place," he adds.

" I'm sorry you feel that. I can assure our staff—” he speaks again before I even have the chance to finish.

" Are you also here to waste my time? Your friend already tried and failed, “ he says puffing the cigarette, smoke looming over him.

“ I'm sorry to hear that. I can assure you our staff is... “

“I don't care," he spits , as he surfaces to put out the cigarette but , on the table.

Involuntary I close my eyes counting, as I try to calm my nerves. My day didn't have to be like this. I internally attempt to encourage myself to keep professional, even when i might feel like screaming.

“ My name is Amelia Summers. Would you mind to introduce yourself? “

Designedly he ignores me, now flickering a lighter. Defeated I find my seat across the room. Seemingly he's old enough to understand some responsibility, but doesn't seem to care about the rules.

'this is gonna be a long thirty minutes' I internally groan opening the file I was given by Jane.

“Bastien Vulture,” I silently read out the name. “So mind telling me why you are here?"

“You tell me. Aren't you the therapist?" he grunples visible annoyed. And this is clearly not getting anywhere.

Letting out a silent breath, I start reading from the file. “Well Mr... Vulture, it says here... You have; a drinking problem, anger issues, childhood trauma and possible depression.“ I look up to taking in his blank expression. He doesn't seem neither to accept nor to deny the claims.

“Of course they'd say that," he snorts.

“Are you saying this information is not true?" I close the file taking a hard look at him. There isn't much expression on his face, as he barely even made eye contact. Fidgeting the lighter between his fingers, clearly bored to hell with this interaction.

“ Isn't it obvious?," he coaxed not even trying to make eye contact.

“Are you saying you don't have a drinking problem? “ I question curious.

" I don't see a problem in having fun. “

" Anger issues? “

'

" Only because people like you piss me off.“

" What about trauma? “ I ask.

" I cause trauma.“

" And depression? “

" Do I look depressed ?"

“Are you insinuating depressed people look a certain way?"

“I don't care. But they don't look like me. This is just a waste of my time. I could be busy with more important things, but here I am doing small talk with you, “ he complains reaching out for his phone. Even though phones are not allowed, he clearly doesn't care. When he can't even respect that we don't allow smoking.

" Well could always skip the small and get to the nectar of the problem. But it can't happen if you're not willing to tell me anything, “ I tell him.

" I already told you lady. I don't have a problem. What do you want to say? “ he questions. But matter if fact he's here, clearly states there's problem somewhere. Rather he's just in denial.

" Then why are you here? “ I ask him.

" You tell me, you're the one keeping me here, “ he says.

" Calm down sir. I'm just trying to do my job. And I can't help if you don't tell me anything. And right now this is clearly not going anywhere, “ I report.

He frowns texting on his phone." Clearly you don't know how to do your job. If you were good as you say, you would have known that I'm perfectly fine. But you just want to keep wasting with nonsense, “ he speaks still focusing on his phone. Partly frowning to whatever it is he's texting about.

" Well the only thing I keep noting is denial. Which is normal for people to try and protect their emotional security. We tend to try and protect ourselves from the truth,when it's too hard to accept. Maybe you're trying to protect yourself, your pride, dignity, reputation... Its normal, “ I try to explain to him.

“Well your observations are wrong because I'm not in denial," he denies. But all I know he wouldn't be here if there was nothing wrong.

“ That's usual what a person in denial would say. Maybe you're afraid they will see as weak, if you asked for help... “ Suddenly he stops texting on his phone and turns to me with a terrifying glare in his eyes.

“ You're that to annoy me." He sneers with the deep threatening growl. Enough to send shivers up and down my spine. I'd be lucky if he doesn't strangle me to death.

“ I'm just trying to help sir," I remind him my voice coming out somewhat, flat and tired.

“Well don't try. You doing a very good job at it either way," he tells. Reluctantly I check the time and there's still thirty minutes to go. But it feels I've been here for hours. He sighs finally sitting up straight and tucking his phone away. “And clearly as you can see. We are just wasting each other's time. Why not end both our miseries. Write on that thing of yours... Tell them I'm perfectly fine and I don't need therapy. And we won't have to bother each other again" he then says.

“Im sorry but that's not how is works. And I can't lie on your behalf," I say to him. He snorts resting back on the couch.

“Technically you won't be lying. Look all I need you is tell them that everything is good. And we will all live happily ever after," he says.

I sigh, “My job is to help people. And lying isn't helping anyone. I hope you understand."

“I see. Ohk... Let me speak in a language most people understand, “ he repositions himself. And here I thought we were already speaking English. " Do you want cash or card? “ He looks me straight in the eyes with a grave expression. Is he trying to bribe me?

" I'm sorry sir but I'm not going to take your money, “ I respond. He sighs almost disappointed.

" How much? Name it I'll give to you. Anything you want. You're a terrible therapist anyways, so you might as well take an early retirement,“ he continues. He must be extremely rich if he's willing to go that far just for me to lie on his behalf. But yet again, that's a big sign that there's a a problem. Or am I that bad if therapist as he says? If he's that rich, he can clearly look for someone else better than me.

" Compelling. But no. Look we have only 15 minutes left then I'll let you go, “ I say to him. And clearly he's not happy with my response.

“That's if you can make it to that fifteen minutes alive. Right now you're testing my patience," he growls livid with rage.