Chapter 122 Second Therapy Session
Chapter 122 Second Therapy Session
Fiona’s POV
My mood has improved since I saw Daphne. Today is my second session with the therapist, and oddly, I’m excited.
When I returned from the correctional center, I had to tell Nick about everything. He was only pissed that I didn’t tell anyone before going. Other than that, he was glad that it went well.
The now familiar scent of lavender wafts into my nostrils. There’s something about it that soothes my insides. Is this like her secret charm to get people to talk? Maybe to feel comfortable.
“Fiona,” she acknowledges my presence while I sit on the soft couch.
“I didn’t get your name.” I don’t think it matters, but I still want to know.
“You can call me Mrs Jade,” she says, smiling as she peers into my eyes. I nod politely.
“You did something.” She says it plainly, and my eyes instinctively squint at her. Did Nick tell her? I don’t think so. He promised to let me have my privacy.
I almost lie so I don’t prove her right, but what does it matter now?
“Yes,” I agree, adjusting on the seat.
Her smile grows wider until she’s actually grinning. My skin tingles from the look. Is she happy that I listened to her or that I feel better? Either way, it’s fine.
“How do you feel?”
Oh. She isn’t asking what I did. That’s… new. But what do I know? All these still feel new to me.
“Better.”
She scribbles something on her note. I have to get used to her doing that.
“Did you sleep better?”
I didn’t think of it. Did I have a nightmare?
But I remember waking up without the usual heaviness in my chest. I even promised to go see her again, and I actually look forward to doing that.
“I think so.”
She hums, nodding.
“Are you okay with sharing what you did differently?”
Thought she’d never ask.
Despite having the thrill to want to spill a while ago, I bite my lip, hesitating. Here goes nothing.
“I went to see a fr… someone.”
“A friend? Acquaintance?” she probes calmly.
“No. We were friends, but she… hurt me. I went to see her.” She keeps looking at me, waiting for me to finish.
“I went to the state correctional center to see her.” I’ll assume that she knows the rest. Besides, the whole city, if not the country, heard of the news.
“And what changed?”
I draw in a deep breath before slowly letting it out.
“A lot.”
“You didn’t talk about the past?”
This is where it surprises me. We didn’t, yet I feel so at peace with myself.
I shake my head before adding, “We just talked about the present… and future.” I smile sadly. “She made me promise to plan her wedding when she finishes her sentence.”
“Do you want to?”
“Yes.” I breathe out. “She mentioned helping me pick baby names.”
She nods slowly.
“So you were comfortable with her.”
I don’t respond immediately.
“What do you think made it easier this time?”
I ponder on the question for a long while before answering.
“She looked guilty. Like she regretted it.”
“Was she remorseful?”
“Yes.”
“Do you forgive her?”
“Not yet.” I won’t deny that something has changed in me, but I feel like we still have a long way to go.
“Yet?” she repeats softly. “So it’s bound to happen?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.”
She types on her laptop for a while before turning back to me.
“You saw something different in her,” she says. “And that changed something in you.”
I swallow. “Yeah.”
“Sometimes, you don’t need to go back into everything that happened to start healing.” She pauses, watching me carefully. “Sometimes, seeing who a person is now is enough to shift something.”
I don’t say anything, but I feel it. That quiet shift she’s talking about.
“You said she looked guilty,” she continues. “That matters.”
I nod faintly.
“That was a big step, Fiona. Going there, facing her… not everyone would do that.”
I look away quickly. My vision blurs, and I blink harder than necessary. My throat tightens, and I press my lips together to keep them from trembling.
It’s stupid. It has to be the pregnancy hormones.
“Hey,” her voice softens, pulling my attention back. “You don’t have to hide that.”
I shake my head slightly, wiping under my eyes before the tears can fall. “I’m fine.”
She doesn’t argue. She just nods.
“No one deserves what you went through,” she says gently. “But how you move forward from it matters too.”
I stay quiet.
“Try to stay in the present,” she adds. “When something hurts, notice it. Ask yourself why. Then be a little kinder to yourself in that moment.”
Kinder to myself.
The words sit with me longer than I expect.
“Because at the end of it all,” she says softly, “it’s what you choose to believe about yourself that stays.”
The room falls quiet again, but this time, it doesn’t feel heavy.
When the session ends, I stand and give her a small nod before leaving.
I didn’t think coming here again would feel this… easy.
Maybe it won’t always be like this.
But for now, it feels like something is finally shifting.