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Omniscient POV
Los Angeles
September 23rd, 27th; 12:34 PM, 3:00 PM
In the sprawling mansion nestled in the heart of Los Angeles, the afternoon sunlight filtered through sheer curtains, casting a soft, golden hue over the room where Beyoncé and Chris Brown sat across from each other. The air was thick with the weight of unresolved emotions and a fragile hope for healing.
Beyoncé, dressed in a flowing white robe, her hair pulled back in a loose, elegant bun, looked out of place in the opulent living room. The room's luxurious décor—plush velvet sofas and abstract art—seemed to be a stark contrast to the turmoil brewing between them. Chris Brown, in a more casual outfit of jeans and a simple black tee, fidgeted with the hem of his shirt, his face a mask of regret and apprehension.
"Chris, I've been thinking a lot about us—about the baby," Beyoncé began, her voice steady but tinged with a vulnerability that made Chris's heart ache. "We need to go to counseling. For the baby's sake, if not for ours."
Chris looked up, his dark eyes reflecting a mixture of relief and sorrow. He knew this conversation was long overdue, but hearing Beyoncé's words made him feel a pang of guilt. "I've been thinking the same thing," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want to make this right. I want to be there for our child and for you."
Beyoncé nodded, her gaze drifting to the window as she took a deep breath. "It's not just about the baby, Chris. It's about us. We need to confront what happened—what I still haven't fully processed."
Chris's face fell. The pain of the past was still fresh, and he knew this conversation was going to be painful. They had both been avoiding the raw, unfiltered truth for too long.
Later that week, they arrived at the office of Dr. Roberts, a renowned therapist known for her work with high-profile couples. The waiting room was serene, with calming colors and soft music playing in the background. Beyoncé's hand was gripping Chris's, her knuckles white, as they sat in uneasy silence.
