Her Therapist

Chapter 29.

ESTHER

I splash water on my face and inhale sharply. Goddamit, Esther, why did you have to tell him that? Now he's not gonna stop questioning you on do you plan on killing yourself. I don't. I just know I won't survive this cruelty that life prepared for me.

I breathe in and out again, shaking my head, and taking a paper to dry my face. And why on Earth do I feel so bad all of the sudden? I could spend more days without food, I could survive them. Why now? Why with him? Why not when I come back home? Why couldn't I collapse on my doorstep or somewhere near the house?

I mentally prepare to get out of the bathroom, and finally, face him. But to be honest, I'm not really complaining about the food part. I hope it arrived. But I do feel kinda bad because he will pay for it. Even if it's technically his fault, I still feel weird. I'm not used to people taking care of me.

And the question is why does he care? That I need to discover.

When I come back, Sebastian is looking through the window, distant. I have to clear my throat to gain his attention.

"Nice view, huh?" I manage to smile.

"Better?"

"Yes. Just needed to wash my face. Maybe we don't have to..."

"Uh-uh", he interrupts me as if he knows what I want to say. And he does. He surprisingly always does, and that just... Well, surprises me. "We will eat. And later we will go shopping, so we..."

"No!", I exclaim. "You won't buy me anything anymore. Sebastian..." I stretch my hand and inhale before I take his. What on Earth am I even doing? Why do I feel like touching him? I never wanted to touch a man before. But with him, I suddenly have a... desire. Is that normal? It probably isn't.

His hand is big, covering mine completely, masculine, with veins showing on his whole arm, and I have to gulp to concentrate. Why does this man have such nice arms? And since when do I fucking care for someone's arms?

Just when I decide to pull my hand away, his grabs mine, and squeezes it hard, but gentle at the same time. I apart my gaze from our entwined hands, and look at his brown eyes, which remind me of almonds, and woods, deep, dark, scary wood in which you get lost, but someone in them finds you and saves you, and that someone is him.

"Esther..."

"Can we stop calling each other by first names?" I manage to pull my hand from his. "It's so... Cliché", I say at the same time he says professional. "It's not professional at all. You need to show that you respect me."

He bursts into a laugh. "Oh, do I?"

I frown. "You do yes. I'm still waiting on that secret, though. I still don't believe you. Why do you want to help me? Why should I trust you? It's so all... confusing. Just out of a sudden this guy claims that he is different from all other therapists, and I don't see that."

"Has some therapist gone out with you to eat?"

"No, we were locked in a mad house, we couldn't."

"That's not an excuse."

"I think it is. They, as you, thought that I would escape."

"Have you tried?"

I raise my eyebrow, and widen my eyes, tilting my head, and scratching my neck. "Have I, haven't I, you'll never know." He just softly laughs in my direction.

"Also, did some therapist carry you?" He raises his eyebrow, and I tilt my head, thinking.

"Noup, but the nurses have when I would faint."