The Mate Who Couldn't Remember

Chapter 5

Maya’s POV

Luca finally talked me into seeing the therapist, as well as forced me into believing that the voice I heard in the woods behind my house was nothing more than the groaning of the wind.

Deep down, I feel it is something else. I can't place my hands on it yet, but it feels so familiar and leaves my brain hurting, trying to remind me of something I seem to be forgetting.

I stop in front of her office and take a deep breath, counting to ten in my head before knocking.

"Come in!" Her voice reaches me where I stand, and even though a huge part of me wants to chicken out and run in the opposite direction, I swallow my reservations and step in.

“Hi, Miss Alaric,” the therapist beams warmly, as she waves me over to the seat in front of her. It is surprisingly comfortable. I drop my bag by the leg of the chair and scoot to its edge.

“Can I call you Maya?”

She looks nice, with her short brown hair framing her face and her warm eyes, regarding me intently.

I nod.

She retrieves a pen. "Maya, I understand that you might have never been to see a therapist before, but behind these walls, be assured that everything you say will be treated with the utmost confidentiality. So rather than nod, you might have to use your speech."

“Okay.”

She smiles. “That’s a start.”

The therapist says nothing for a while, scribbling in a book. I wonder what she is writing down, seeing as I am yet to tell her anything. After what seems like an eternity, she raises her head.

“Do you feel comfortable enough now?”

I don’t, but I nod, wanting to get this over with.

“Your voice, Maya.”

“Yes.”

She tilts her head. “You can call me Stella,” she starts. “So, why do you need to talk to a therapist?”

“Because my best friend wants me to.”

She chuckles. “I admire the care your best friend has for you, but if this is going to work, you are going to have to tell me what made you decide he was right.”

“I don’t think he was right,” I murmur, saying the first thing that comes to mind. At first, I am scared that Stella is going to warm me off, but when the smile on her face doesn’t wane, I continue.

"I had an episode yesterday, and he thinks it is related to a trauma I don't even remember experiencing."

Stella nods. “What trauma?”

“My grandfather says I witnessed my parents die in an accident. And now, I tend to have headaches and feel generally weak.”

I leave the rest part out intentionally, because how on earth do I explain to her that I witness memories that I feel I have experienced when I am certain nothing like that has happened?

“Let’s talk about your feelings today.”

The session goes by in a blur, and I feel myself beginning to relax in front of her. It is easy to talk to Stella, so I tell her about all the bullying and how the professors don't seem to care about it.

I talk about Professor Koa, too, and what happened in his class the last time. Stella thinks I should give myself the chance to fully settle in a new environment and that with time, it will get better.

At the end of the session, I find myself in a generally good mood. That is, until I get out into the hallway and come face to face with no other person than Professor Koa.

He is leaning on the wall opposite the therapist’s office, one leg propped on the wall and the other staring intensely at me.

The familiar scent waltzes over to me again, the earth damper this time. My brain kicks in again, forcing me to think about something.

But I don’t even know what it is.

It feels like my body remembers something my mind does not. It feels like grief, holding my heart in so much sadness, but at the same time, it feels like love, like flowers and bright skies. But neither word is big enough for what it is.

Professor Koa leans away from the wall, and time seems to slow down. The whole of Graywood fades into oblivion as he crosses the space, planting himself in front of me. The scent becomes even heavier now, and I take a step back.

But he doesn't stop, the fierceness in his eyes making me pull away until my back hits the door. I don't know if Stella heard the soft thud, but for some reason, I keep hoping she doesn't come out, like I don't want this to end.

The realization is shocking.

A dull ache throbs beneath my ribs as his hand rests on the door above my head. He searches my gaze, as if looking for something. I swallow instinctively.

"Maya," he whispers, uttering my name like a line of prayer. It tugs at something deep within me, and for some reason, I am certain I have heard him call me before in this exact manner. In another time. In another life. "Who are you?"

I try to say something, but no words come out of my mouth. My tongue curls inwards as I am overwhelmed with a bunch of emotions. The memories tease me slightly, but don't force themselves over me like before.

I am still conscious of everything going on. I know when his other hand reaches for my chin, stroking gently. How I melt under his gaze, the entirety of my being focused on his hand and how it makes me feel.

Warmth travels through me, and my lips part again. An inaudible sound slips through before I can stop myself, shame mixed with a wrong yearning. And at once, my eyes fall open.

"Professor Koa," I hear Dean Sabelle call from a near distance. And abruptly, he pulls himself away from me, disappearing around the corner as though he had never been here at all.

I hear the voice again, fainter, but sure.

“Mate.”