The therapist secret

Chapter 21

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The next morning, Layla woke up in her own bed, but everything felt different. The sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a warm glow across her room, but the weight that had been pressing down on her for weeks had finally lifted.

Bella had said *okay.*

The memory of their conversation the night before played on repeat in Layla's mind. Bella's hand in hers, her whispered agreement—it had been everything Layla didn't know she was waiting for. For the first time in a long time, it felt like things were moving forward. Slowly, maybe even cautiously, but forward.

She spent the morning in a haze, her thoughts circling around Bella. There was no clear plan, no roadmap for what came next, and that scared Layla more than she wanted to admit. They hadn't talked about logistics—how they would move forward, how they would navigate the complicated mess of boundaries they had to untangle. But for now, all Layla could think about was the fact that Bella had opened the door.

They had a chance.

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Later that day, Layla found herself back at the vinyl store, trying to focus on work. She flipped through records absentmindedly, pretending to organize the shelves. It was a slow afternoon, which left too much room for her thoughts to spiral.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket, and she fished it out, her heart skipping a beat when she saw Bella's name on the screen.

*Can we talk?*

For a moment, Layla's chest tightened. She didn't know if this was a good sign or a bad one, but she wasn't going to ignore it.

*Yeah, of course. Where?*

A minute later, Bella responded.

*My place. Tonight?*

Layla swallowed hard. Bella's place. Just like last night. It felt intimate, but also heavy with unspoken things. But if they were going to make this work—whatever "this" was—they would have to face the hard conversations.

*I'll be there,* she replied.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, each hour dragging by as anticipation built inside her. By the time she was standing outside Bella's door again, the nerves in her stomach were wound tight. She hesitated for just a moment before knocking, trying to remind herself that they had both agreed to this.

Bella opened the door almost immediately, as if she had been waiting just as anxiously. She looked different tonight—still casual in a soft gray sweater and jeans, but more relaxed than before. Still, there was a tension in her eyes that Layla couldn't ignore.

"Come in," Bella said softly, stepping aside to let her in.

Layla entered, the quiet warmth of the apartment wrapping around her like a blanket. She had expected the same awkwardness from last night, but there was something different in the air tonight. Less uncertainty, more anticipation.

They both sat down on the couch, the space between them feeling vast and fragile. For a few moments, neither of them spoke, the silence stretching on. Layla could feel the weight of what was unsaid between them.

Finally, Bella spoke, her voice calm but uncertain. "I've been thinking a lot since last night."

Layla nodded, her heart racing. "Me too."

Bella took a deep breath, her eyes meeting Layla's. "I don't want to keep avoiding this. I don't want to keep pretending that I don't feel something for you, because I do. I really do."

Layla's breath caught in her throat, her chest tightening. She had felt it, but hearing Bella say it out loud was different. It was real, undeniable. "I feel the same way," she said softly.

Bella offered a small, hesitant smile. "But this isn't simple. It can't just be about what we feel."

"I know," Layla agreed. "I'm not asking for easy. I just—" She paused, searching for the right words. "I just want to try."

Bella nodded slowly. "So do I. But we have to be careful, Layla. I can't be your therapist anymore, and we need to talk about what this means for both of us. Professionally, personally... it's complicated."

Layla's heart dropped slightly at the mention of Bella no longer being her therapist. She knew it was coming—it had to happen—but it still felt like losing something important. Still, it was a trade she was willing to make if it meant they could have something real.

"I understand," Layla said, her voice steady. "I'll find someone new to talk to, but I don't want to lose what we have."

Bella's gaze softened. "You won't. But we need to make sure we do this right."

"I don't want to rush anything," Layla said, her fingers fidgeting nervously. "But I also don't want to pretend anymore. Not with you."

Bella's lips curved into a small smile. "No more pretending."

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the weight of their words settling between them. Layla's heart felt lighter, though the road ahead still seemed uncertain. But she could see it now—the path forward. It wouldn't be easy, but it was there, waiting for them to take the first step.

Bella shifted slightly, her hand resting on the edge of the couch, inches away from Layla's. "There's something else I've been thinking about," she said, her voice quieter now. "I'm scared, Layla. I've never done this before. I've never crossed this kind of line."

Layla's heart squeezed at the vulnerability in Bella's voice. She reached out, gently taking Bella's hand in hers. "I'm scared too," she admitted. "But I think... maybe we don't have to have all the answers right now. Maybe we just take it one step at a time."

Bella looked down at their hands, her thumb brushing lightly over Layla's knuckles. "One step at a time," she echoed, as if testing the words.

Layla squeezed her hand gently, feeling a sense of calm settle over her. "We'll figure it out."

For the first time in weeks, Bella smiled—really smiled—and the sight of it made Layla's heart flutter. "Yeah," Bella said softly. "We will."

And in that moment, with the uncertainty still hanging in the air and the future stretching out before them, Layla felt something she hadn't felt in a long time: hope.

They sat there together, hands intertwined, knowing that the journey ahead would be difficult, but no longer feeling like they had to face it alone. For now, they had each other. And for Layla, that was enough.

For the first time in a long time, the spaces between them didn't feel so wide.

They were taking the first step—into the unknown, yes—but together.