My Love, My Billionaire

The continuous tapping of pen on table echoed through the almost empty room as Rosalia scanned the big glass table in front of her, looking for what next to play with.

“How do you feel today Lia?” The slightly bald man seated behind the table with glasses that almost hid the flesh pooled under his eyes asked her. She hummed, not sparing him a glance. He sighed in frustration. He was always not able to hold her attention for more than the five seconds. She would look at him and decide he wasn’t shiny enough to keep her eyes trained on.

“I’m okay I guess,” she finally answered when the pen she was tapping on the table grew two horns and demanded that she answer her therapist. She wanted to leave this boring place. The big room was ugly, void of emotions and toys. The only thing that decorated the walls were an old clock that she suspected would fall soon and a shelf that had been built into the wall. It contained mostly files from all her sessions with the man. Unsuccessful sessions.

“Any story you want to share with me today?” he asked. Rosalia tapped her index finger on her jaw as she stood up slowly and walked towards the shelf.

“I think I’m all out of stories…” Her eyes scanned his table for his name plate. “Leo,” she said sweetly when she saw it. “Maybe we should just play. I got new toys from Father yesterday. Trust me. You’ll love it”

Mr. Leo looked at the twenty-one-year-old in despair and curiosity. He has been her therapist since she was a kid, but up till this moment, her mind was something he could never understand. It was like she hadn’t grown. If anything, her child-like curiosity and excitement had doubled over the years. He watched her slowly pick up the little toy car she had left there the previous time and drop to her knees to roll its cute little tires on the floor.

“Lia, I’ve warned you about playing on the floor.” He started rubbing his temple “You’ll soil your clothes, and that’s no way for an adult to act.” He finished just as she turned back to look at him when his voice raised slightly at the end. He watched the tears cloud her eyes as she stood up from the floor and dusted her clothes in an attempt to get rid of the dirt.

“I’m sorry. I won’t do it again,” she said as she solemnly walked back to her seat. She folded her fingers on her lap and looked down at her feet.

“I didn’t mean to yell at you,” Leo told her. She didn’t hum in response this time. He looked at her wearily—her moods especially were what he struggled to handle. Even therapists had their limits. “I’m just trying to help, Lia, and you’re making it very difficult for me”

Her head turned swiftly to him, eyes narrowed and lips in a sneer. “I’m making it difficult for you?” she asked in disbelief. “Do you think I like being here? Having to keep seeing your fat face and bald hair. If anything, I’m the one that has to deal with you!” she yelled, tears running down her lean cheeks.

“Lia…” Mr. Leo walked over to where she sat and put a hand on her shoulder. He knew she didn’t mean anything she just said; it was just one of her moments. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he said as he stroked her long dark hair.

“Maybe this will cheer you up?” He brought out the chocolate he had put away for her. This was their routine.