The therapist secret

Chapter 1

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Bella sat across from Layla, her posture relaxed yet alert, the notebook in her lap filled with notes from their past sessions. The room was dim, the only light coming from a single lamp on Bella's desk. It cast a soft glow on the space, making the shadows in the corners seem to stretch farther than they should.

Layla shifted in her seat, arms crossed tightly over her chest, fingers gripping the sleeves of her oversized sweater. Her hair hung limply around her face, and she refused to make eye contact. Bella had grown used to this—a fortress of silence Layla built around herself. But today felt different. The air between them felt charged, like something heavy was about to break.

"Where do you want to start today?" Bella's voice was soft, careful.

Layla's eyes flickered to the window, where rain had begun to splatter against the glass. Her lips parted, but no sound came out at first. She swallowed, her throat bobbing visibly, before finally speaking, her voice raspy, as if the words were painful to pull out.

"The dreams are worse."

Bella nodded, letting Layla take her time. "Can you tell me about them?"

Layla bit her lip, her fingers twisting in her sleeves until her knuckles turned white. "It's like I'm stuck in it again. In that place. The room, the smell of it... the blood." Her voice cracked, the last word barely above a whisper. She blinked rapidly, fighting back tears that Bella knew she hated showing.

"The blood?" Bella prompted gently.

"On my hands," Layla continued, her voice shaking now. "I can't get it off. No matter how much I try to scrub it away, it's just there, staining everything. It's in my hair, my clothes... on the walls." She trembled, her eyes wide and glassy as if she could see the horror in front of her.

Bella leaned forward slightly, her heart aching for this girl who had been through so much. "Layla, I want you to breathe with me, okay? Let's slow things down."

Layla's chest rose and fell rapidly, but she nodded, mirroring Bella's calm, steady breaths. The tension in her shoulders eased a little, though her gaze remained far away, stuck in that memory.

"When you wake up, what do you feel?" Bella asked softly.

Layla closed her eyes. "Nothing. Like... I'm hollow. There's no one left inside me, just the pieces of what I used to be."

Bella watched her, noting the way Layla's body had curled in on itself, a physical manifestation of her mental state. It was as though she was trying to disappear into the chair, to fold herself small enough that she wouldn't exist anymore.

"You're not hollow," Bella said gently. "You're still here, even if it feels like you're not. You've survived so much, Layla. And you're still surviving."

Layla shook her head, a bitter smile twisting her lips. "Surviving doesn't feel like enough anymore. It's like... I'm waiting for something. Waiting for the next wave of pain to hit, for the next thing to tear me apart."

Bella's pen hovered over the page, but she didn't write anything. This wasn't about taking notes anymore; it was about finding a way through the walls Layla had built, to reach the heart of her.

"I know it feels endless," Bella said, choosing her words carefully, "but what you're doing now—talking, facing these memories—it's part of healing, even if it doesn't feel that way yet."

Layla let out a hollow laugh, shaking her head again. "Healing." She spat the word like it tasted bad. "I don't know what that looks like anymore. Every time I think I'm close, something drags me back down."

Bella resisted the urge to reach out, knowing Layla wasn't ready for that kind of touch yet, but the desire to comfort her was overwhelming. She kept her voice steady instead. "Healing isn't a straight line. Sometimes it feels like you're going backward, but you're not. You're moving, even if it's through the darkest parts of yourself."

Layla finally looked at her, eyes searching Bella's face as if looking for something, some truth or promise she could cling to. "I don't know how to trust that," she whispered. "I don't know how to believe it."

Bella leaned forward, her voice softer now. "You don't have to trust it all at once. Just... take it piece by piece. One small step forward. Can you do that?"

Layla's eyes dropped to her lap, her hands still shaking. "Maybe. I don't know."

"That's okay," Bella said, offering a gentle smile. "Maybe is a start."

For a long time, the room was silent except for the sound of the rain. Bella watched as Layla's breath slowly evened out, the storm inside her quieting, though not completely gone. It never would be, not yet.

But today was a step. And sometimes, that was enough.