Now playing..
Hallelujah, by Jeff Buckley...
TORONTO,CANADA"THANK YOU FOR COMING, Selah. I'm sure this is probably unexpected of me," Ms. Tanya greets me warmly, her voice echoing through the spacious Victorian foyer as she ushers me inside. The walls envelop us in a deep shade of maroon, contrasting elegantly with the white and gold accents that adorn the room, exuding a sense of timeless grandeur.
I smile, feeling the warmth of familiarity wash over me as I shrug off my coat, the fabric whispering softly as I fold it over my arm. "Of course I came, I was wondering when I was going to hear from you again," I reply, my words laced with genuine affection.
She chuckles, her laughter filling the air as she gestures towards the inviting expanse of her open-space kitchen. "Yes well, even a therapist needs a little time to themselves," she muses, her eyes twinkling with mischief.
Giggling in agreement, I settle onto a stool at her island bar, the smooth surface cool beneath my fingertips. "Yes ma'am, I agree," I respond, feeling at ease in her presence.
Ms. Tanya turns briefly towards the stove, her movements graceful yet tinged with an underlying tension that hangs in the air like a storm on the horizon. The sweet aroma of vanilla and honeycomb swirls around the kitchen, a soothing contrast to the knot of anxiety tightening in my chest. Her hair, impeccably tied into a high bun, seems almost too perfect, a facade barely concealing the turmoil brewing beneath the surface.
Returning to the table, she sets down two steaming cups of tea with practiced ease, her welcoming smile masking the uncertainty in her eyes. "How are you feeling, dear?" she asks, her voice gentle but betraying a hint of apprehension.
I twirl the spoon nervously in the tea, the clinking sound echoing in the tense silence. "I'm okay... just a little agitated," I reply, struggling to mask the rising anxiety. "But that whole situation will have to wait."
Ms. Tanya's expression shifts, a flicker of concern passing over her features as she takes a sip of her tea. "What do you mean?" she probes gently, her eyes searching mine for answers.
Laughing unconvincingly, I dismiss her concern, my breath catching in my throat. "It's nothing, seriously," I assure her, though the words ring hollow in my ears. "But what about you? How are you feeling?"
Her hesitation is palpable as she sets down her cup, crossing her legs in a subconscious gesture of restraint. "I'm... I'm okay," she murmurs, her voice betraying a vulnerability she rarely shows.
Frowning, I press on, unable to ignore the unease gnawing at me. "Are you sure? When you called, it sounded like something was bothering you," I implore, my heart pounding with a mixture of fear and concern. "And I really hope everything with your health is okay because I really don't want to lose you and—"
YOU ARE READING
𝐓𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐄𝐱𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐬|𝟏𝟖+ ( ON HOLD)
Romance" That's not fair and you know it," He gritted, " You're not the only one who blames themselves for his death." " He's dead because of me, Exodus!" I yelled before I could even stop myself, " It should've been me laying in the fucking casket, not...