Your Pain Is My Comfort

Name

I sat there in my class on my computer. It's my last class of the day and I'm already done with everything. The room is pretty quiet right now and that's the only reason why I'm staying here instead of going home. A quiet room with people is better than a quiet room by myself. Cause if I hear something I would know it's someone else, rather than if I was by myself, then Megalodon could be swimming in my toilet.

I was sitting in the back by myself scrolling through Google. There is a slight...high possibility I'm looking up Dr. Morgan right now.

I was surprised to see there was a lot of information that came up about her. There were pictures of her, all with her wearing her hair in a bun. Apparently, she's 37. She was born in Virginia. And founder and owner of V.M.

The only thing I didn't find was her first name. Since she owns that damn building, I'm assuming it starts with a V. How the hell does Google know how old she is but doesn't know her name?

Dr. Morgan is an amazing, beautiful, talented woman. She got me through my divorce, helped me find myself, and helped me become a strong independent woman. She has many different techniques, some were very helpful and I couldn't thank her enough.

-Avery Allen

I read through dozens of different reviews, and all of them just said how wonderful she was. No one mentioned her first name at all only making my curiosity stronger. There was one review though that caught my attention.

This woman should have her license taken away! She should not professionally nor legally be able to have patients. She should be in jail, not in a position where she holds power over people! She is a s****l predator and should be stopped! She isn't normal. She's not a true woman!

-Anonymous

54 people liked the comment and I couldn't stop reading it over and over again. Especially the last sentence. If she isn't a "true woman" then why do they keep refering to her as a she? I sighed as I clicked out of the reviews and went back to the pictures of her.

My eyes couldn't help but roam to how perfect her lips were. Not too small, not too big, they were just perfect. I started to daydream about my lips on hers. I started biting my lower lip and slightly rocking my hips against my chair.

The look in her eyes held power as they always do. She had her glasses off, she was wearing a black blazer and pants that flowed a little at the bottom.

I felt something between my legs starting to throb. My breathing quickened as I kept rocking my hips. I felt wetness starting to form in my underwear. I kept looking at the picture and the way she was looking at me damn near had me on my knees. I closed my eyes and covered my mouth as "Are you okay?" I jumped up and opened my eyes. I looked up to see Mrs. Moore squinting at me. I cleared my throat and crossed my legs.

"Y-Yeah I'm fine. Just trying to think how I'm going to change my work hours," she nodded her head slowly as if she knew I was lying.

I have Mrs. Moore for three classes and this is the only one I have with her by myself. "Looking up Dr. Morgan, huh?" I turned to my computer and sighed.

"Yeah. I'm doing a research paper and she seemed like an interesting person," Mrs. Moore bit her lip and crossed her arms. "What? You don't agree with me?" I asked with a hint of amusement in my voice. She slightly smiled and shook her head.

"No, I just," she sighed deeply. "I've met her before. And ugh, to make it easier on you, I would suggest you research someone else. There's nothing special about that woman. She's closed off, she keeps to herself and as you can tell, no one knows her first damn name. Except probably her contractor," I mentally agreed with her.

"Well thank you," I looked up at her and leaned back in my seat, and smirked. "You're looking very stunning today, Angela," she rolled her eyes at me and I quietly chuckled.

Mrs. Moore and I have had a little flirting here and there. Nothing harmful though because I know she is married. We've only known each other for a few months but we've gotten close. When I first moved here, Angela was the first professor I made friends with. We built a simi-friendship, where I flirt with her and she kicks me out of class.

"Shut the hell up," I chuckled as she walked away back to her desk. I leaned back in my seat as I side looked at the picture again. I closed my computer shut rolling my eyes at myself.

It's been a week since I've last seen her and it's like she's mentally taunting me. This woman is apparently so known in this town, and yet, I've never heard of her up until two weeks ago.

I decided that torturing myself with these thoughts and questions with no answers was useless and that I should go get some answers. I packed up my things and walked down the stairs to the front of the room. "Olivia," I turned my head to see Angela motioning to come to her. I walked to her and smiled. She snorted and leaned forward. "My husband is out of town and I'm bored," If I wasn't a virgin and scared to lose it, I would have screwed this woman the moment I laid eyes on her. Before I knew she was married.

"Is this a booty call?" She put her hand over her forehead making me slightly laugh.

"No. I just wanted to see if you wanted to go do something later tonight," I smiled to myself.

"Last time I went out it didn't end so well,"

"Well, there isn't going to be any drinking," I squinted my eyes at her and she just smiled. "I'm pregnant," my mouth opened wide and I quietly squealed. I put down my bag and hugged her tightly. "Get the hell off me," I chuckled and moved back.

"In that case, I will be more than happy to go do something with you tonight," I put up my finger. "Can you not drink the entire pregnancy, or can you drink within the first few months?"

"Bye Olivia," I laughed while picking up my bag and walked out of the classroom.

I hailed a cab and he drove me to the building. I went inside and up the elevator to her floor and I couldn't help but stop and stare. There's something about the red decor that just captures your attention. I walked up to her door but before I opened it I stopped. I looked to my right to surprisingly not seeing Violet.

I knocked on the door and stepped back. The door opened a minute later and Violet stepped out while fixing her hair. Dr. Morgan was right behind her and they both looked up and saw me. I slightly smirked while looking away. A touch of jealousy lingered in the back of my head but I ignored it. "Ms. Wilson, I wasn't expecting you," I sarcastically smiled.

"Me neither, but I just keep coming back. So I thought I might as well make my time here worth while," I said while looking at her. i turned my head to look at Violet and a cocky smile glazed her lips.

"I guess I don't see the harm," Violet sharply turned her head to Dr. Morgan as if saying 'what the hell'. I didn't bother on staying for the glaring contest so I walked into her office and sat down. They continued to talk for a minute or so then the door closed. I crossed my legs and put my fist under my chin and looked up at her. "So, to what do I owe the pleasure of this visit?"

"Well, you are my therapist," She chuckled and nodded her head as she went to go sit down in her seat.

"In that case, I think we need to make it offcial," I titled my head up in questioning as she sat down. "I need to start charging you," I smiled while nodding and turned my head and pulled my hair into a ponytail. She watched me the entire time, something in her eyes changed but I couldn't pin point it. "So, whats been going on with you lately," I leaned my head on my fist and looked at the woman in front of me.

She was everything and nothing like the woman in the picture.

"Is there a problem Ms. Wilson?" she said straight forward. I leaned back in my seat with my legs still crossed. This seemed to impress her.

"You are very well known Dr. Morgan," the side of her lips curled into a grin. "Everyone seems to love you. They say that they learned from you. That you changed their life drastically. They praise you," I tilted my head again, which is what I do when I'm trying to read someone. Which is probably useless seeing that reading people is her job. "Your a very devious woman Dr. Morgan,"

"I prefer the term strategic thinker,"

I closed my eyes for a second and slightly smiled. "But others. They seem to think that you don't deserve what you have. What you do. That you're closed off. That you keep to yourself. That you're not intresting,"

That grin stayed on her face the entire time. "You looked me up," I didn't respond but instead stared at her. She bit her bottom lip. "Am I allowed to ask who said those things about me?" I continued to stare at her. Her grin turned into a smile and she looked up at the ceiling. "Fine," she looked back at me. "Is there a question here?"

I uncrossed my legs and leaned forward. "After everything that I found about you, and what I've heared, and what I've seen, there was only one question that lingered," she rose her head in quetioning. "What's your name?" The room went silent. This seemed to not be what she thought I was going to ask, so she laughed. "Fine, if you won't tell me, then I'll just come up with one for you. Because calling you Dr. Morgan in my head is getting tiring" she leaned back in her seat and put her finger to her lips.

"So you think about me a lot then?" A cocky smile formed. "My assistant doesn't even know my first name. And we're very close in some aspects. Or at least she thinks so," The look in my eyes held indifference, even though I know what she just said will be on my mind all night. "But hey, be my guest," I looked over her. All her features, aspects, components. I even tried to read her aura.

"Your real name starts with V, so." I tapped my finger against my chin. "Venessa," she rose her eyebrow. "Venessa Morgan. I like the sound of that," she chuckled and stood up.

"Then Venessa it is," she said in a deep tone sending shivers finger my spine. She walked over to her bookshelf.

"Your really not going to tell me your name?" her back was facing to me, and my eyes couldn't help but wander to her ass.

"Joey Gracea," she turned back around with a book in her hand. "Is a famous author who used to be a therapist. He helped a sociopath who murder hundreds of women and men become a loyal citizen. I mean, nevertheless he stayed in jail for the rest of his life. But Dr. Gracea, turned this mans life around, simply, by just talking to him," she sat back down. "And after hours of studying, analyzing, and talking to this man, Gracea found out, the reaosn why he was the way he was, was because his parents beat him," she handed me the book. "He wrote a book before he died, to future patients who might have a dirty family background." I took the book. "I would like for you to read it,"

I stared down a the thick book in my hands. I wanted to read it, and I knew I did. "I'll think about it," I looked up at her. "On one condition,"

"I'm not telling you my name," I chuckled.

"Whatever suits you. I like Vennessa anyways," she kept a nuteral face but I knew there were some thoughts swimming in that mind of hers. "Tell me what I said to you, that night I called," her eyes grew dark again as she bawled her hands into fist. She closed her eyes for a second and smiled.

"Something that helped me finish,"