Marco's POV
Marco sat stiffly on the couch, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, and jaw clenched. The office smelled like sandalwood and vanilla, the scent oddly calming, but his muscles remained rigid. Dr. Rashida Knight sat across from him, clipboard resting on her knee, pen poised but motionless. She had learned not to write too soon, not to break the moment when a patient was on the verge of speaking.
“You’re quieter than usual, Marco.” Her voice was steady, patient. “But you’re here. That counts for something.”
Marco exhaled sharply, rubbing his hand over his face. “I don’t even know what the f**k I’m doing here.”
“You do,” she countered. “You just don’t want to say it yet.”
He let out a humorless chuckle, his fingers tapping restlessly on his arm. “I’ve sat in this chair h
