Hello everyone! I just wanted to say that I'm so angry because of the guy who's stealing my work on Facebook. Please, if you can, go on Array's books and have a look. He's been plagiarizing my story so leave a comment here and there saying it's mine. I would really appreciate the support! I have also reported him properly, the way that Wattpad team told me to, so let's hope for the best!
Here's another chapter! Enjoy x
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Nicole's POV
"Thank you, John. I look forward to our next appointment." I watch the man hoist himself up from the sofa, and I'm only hoping for my facial expression to match the zest in my voice.
"Likewise, Nicole." His eyes crease as he smiles, which makes the skin around them appear even more wrinkly than usual.
I've worked with John for a while now. He's such a sweet gentleman, especially now, when he presses his straw hat against his chest, bows slightly before me, and then, with that charming smile of a seventy-year-old man, he sets the hat atop his silver, almost white hair.
His therapy started after he'd lost his wife, which he just couldn't move on from. Lately, though, we both have noticed some progress. He looked maybe not much happier but serene, "Just like my love when she lay in that coffin," he would say.
I think I'll never be able to forget his eyes. Behind their pale, ice-blue colour, they hide pain and happiness of a life experience. Sometimes I wonder whether his irises were always this way, cold and pastel, or whether their colour had faded with age. I hate to think that the vibrance of his eyes could've been washed away by the tears that he'd shed so often.
A breath of relief pushes out of my lungs as the door closes with a quiet click. It was my last session for today, which means that I can finally head home and have a well-deserved dinner. Maybe even a glass of wine.
Unwilling to waste any minute of my free time, I zip the bag that I collect from a chair, and having clasped my fingers around its leather handles, I stall, startled by the sound of the door re-opening behind me.
"Did you forget something, John?" My voice rings out in the hushed room, polite and calm, but as I turn around, my chest quickly constricts in horror.
"What's up, Doc?" He smiles mischievously, leaning against the doorframe, his black eyes shift from the PhD degree, engraved in my name plate, to me.
"Aren't you a bit too old to be quoting Bugs Bunny, William?" My voice filters out into the air. Thankfully it sounds unruffled.
"I just thought I'd touch upon something from your–" he gives me a once-over, "–era."
Feeling my cheeks unwittingly blossom with colour, I use my professionalism to veil the irritation that rises within me. "My shift's over, William. Also, I don't think you were booked for a session." I dare to bring my body closer to the door, at the threshold of which he still stands, alarmingly relaxed.
"Don't act daft." He breaks into a frigid smile. "You know why I'm here."
"On the contrary, I'm afraid." I venture to look into his eyes, darkened with malevolence. "But since we aren't agreed for a session, which after the last stunt that you'd pulled, will never happen again, I'd rather have you leave, please."
"Oof," he grunts, and molds his hand to his chest, wincing, as if my words caused him pain. He then reinstates his conceited smirk, ready to defy me. "Do you like to row, Nicole?"
A wrinkle of confusion appears on my forehead. "No," I say curtly.
"Well, then better get ready because you're going to."
YOU ARE READING
17 Made Mistakes
General FictionSo hot that you'll read with the fans on. So dark that you'll keep the lights on. So addictive that you won't be able to quit. The summer of made mistakes. After Davina comes back from Austin, she's met with disappointment that she wasn't prepared f...
