Ex Therapy

2. Introductions

Ryan gestured towards the armchair in front of the desk, "Take a seat. I'm just gonna go fetch a drink do you want one?"

"I'm okay, thank you." I smiled politely before walking over to sit down.

I glanced around the room, taking in my surroundings. It didn't feel like a 'therapist' office. Is that what she even is? It doesn't sound like clinical therapy.

There were four or so bookshelves lining the wall behind her desk, every shelf stacked full of different books and little ornaments.

The moody sky illuminated the room just enough to see with the help of a few lamps creating a warm homey environment, almost as if she's trying to make you feel comfortable spilling all your secrets.

Almost like a therapist...

As I was pondering the thought, the door clicked shut followed by the familiar sound of echoing footsteps. Ryan returned, taking her seat at the desk, her eyes never leaving mine.

She rested her elbows on the desk and intertwined her fingers, leaning her head on her knuckles with an inviting smile. "So, Zeke, I hear you need help getting someone off your mind?"

"I suppose so."

"Do tell," she urged, a playful glint in her eye.

I raised an eyebrow. "What exactly do you do here? How are you supposed to help me?"

Her grin widened. "I'll answer your questions if you answer mine."

"Fine." I groaned, "Harper says I had to come because of May."

"November not causing any issues no?" She teased.

I shot her a blank look. "You know, I can just leave, right?"

"You're right I'm sorry." She chuckled, "Who is May?"

I crossed my arms, raising my eyebrow playfully, "I thought you were gonna answer my questions too?"

"I did say that, didn't I?" She smiled. "My job is to help you figure out what's keeping you stuck and guide you out of it."

"Okay," I said, still confused but willing to go along with it.

"What is May doing that is causing issues?" She questioned.

"God, what is she not bloody doing," I groaned, "I can't go five minutes without looking at my phone in case she texts with some bullshit."

Ryan glanced at her watch, "Well, so far you've managed 15 minutes. See look, I'm already helping." She smiled.

I laughed at her bold statement, "And how exactly are you doing that?"

"Well," she leaned forward, "since you're sat in my office, being distracted by me, I'm taking all the credit for it."

"Oh really?" I smirked.

"Yes. Now what's your question?"

I mirrored her posture. "What makes you qualified to do this? How do I know you're not just some lunatic claiming to have magic powers?"

She raised her eyebrow, clearly amused, "Well Ryan, if you take a look to your left you'll see my doctorate in psychology."

I glanced at the framed certificate on the wall and then back at her, slightly annoyed that my interrogation hadn't fazed her. "That explains the whole 'Doctor' thing," I mumbled.

A smug smile tugged at her lips as she leaned back in her chair, "Why do you want to move on?"

I sunk into the chair, the wave of mental exhaustion from dealing with May weighing me down. "Because every time I go back I get hurt and I'm sick of it."

Her expression softened with genuine concern. I fell silent, unintentionally thinking back to the last time May fucked up.

"I can help you if you let me Zeke," she said softly.

"How did you even get into this in the first place?" I asked, attempting to shift the focus off myself.

She shifted in her chair, clearing her throat before answering. "About six years ago, I was stuck in a loop I couldn't escape. Then one Saturday, a stranger offered to buy me a drink at a bar. They told me about their job and how they helped people in their spare time. They eventually helped me out of my situation, and I knew then what I wanted to do with my life."

"So, you just started from there?" I asked, intrigued.

"Well, I was nearly finished with my degree, so I started helping friends on the side until I graduated. Then I bought this office, and here we are." She smiled, tapping her fingers on the desk.

"That's pretty cool."

"I know," she beamed, "Any more questions?"

"How much is this gonna cost?"

"You don't waste any time do you?" She chuckled.

"I try not to."

"It's twenty an hour. I offer half-hour, forty-five-minute, or one-hour sessions. So it's up to you. If you change your mind, there are no consequences," she explained.

"Only twenty quid? Damn, how do you afford to live?"

She laughed, "I'm a busy woman, you're lucky you got some of my time today." She winked playfully.

I raised my eyebrows in disbelief, "Oh, I'm lucky? I'd say you're the lucky one to have someone as amazing as me walk into your office." I joked.

"I don't doubt that," she grinned, "So, what will it be?

"An hour it is I suppose, may as well get the most out of you," I smirked.

Her eyes lit up with excitement. "Brilliant. You'll need to sign a few things, just confidentiality agreements to ensure everything you say stays between us unless you're in danger." She pulled out some papers from a drawer.

"Yes ma'am."

Her eyes flashed with an unreadable expression, but she said nothing, handing me the documents to sign.

"Got a pen?"

"Uh yeah sorry." A faint shade of red crept up her neck as she fumbled around for a pen.

She passed me the pen, and I quickly skimmed through the forms, noting the important information before signing and handing them back.

"Great," she said, her usual demeanor returning. "Let me see when I can fit you in."

I waited, listening to her mumble to herself.

"How about Friday's at 5:30 pm?"

"Aren't you closed after 5?" I asked, puzzled by the odd time.

"I am, but I can make an exception. Besides I stay until 7 pm anyway on Fridays so it's not too much hassle," she rambled.

"Alright then, Friday at 5:30 it is." I grinned.

"Great," she smiled, "I'll see you Friday."

I stood, preparing to leave her office.

"Hold on, you should take these with you. They're your copy of the forms," she said, handing me the documents.

I stared at the paper baffled, "How did you get these so quick? I was just kidding about the magic thing."

She chuckled, walking me to the door. "It's special paper that transfers whatever you write onto the next page."

Her hand rested on the door handle, her eyes studying me curiously before she smiled, "Get home safe."

I felt heat make its way up my neck under her lingering gaze as she finally opened the door.

"You too," I replied, attempting to return her smile without looking insane.

Let's hope I can get a grip before Friday...