The Neighbor

Chapter 74

A few days later

The clock ticks softly, each sound magnified by the heavy silence filling Scarlett's office. Your fingers tap rhythmically against your knee, an unconscious motion as your leg bounces nervously.

The tension in the room is visiable, as if the air itself is weighed down by the emotions neither of you has fully expressed yet.

Scarlett sits across from you both, her green eyes watching carefully, her pen tucked between her lips in thought. There's a sadness there, an understanding of the deep wounds you're carrying the ones that have brought you to this moment. She's seen you in your darkest hours before, but this...this is different. This isn't just about you. It's about both of you.

Beside you, Wanda is quiet, her hand laced with yours. Her fingers are warm, but the grip is firm, grounding you in a way that keeps your head above water—just barely. You can feel the steady pulse of her thumb brushing over the back of your hand in a small, soothing gesture, though the tension in her body is undeniable. This isn't easy for her, either.

The two of you sit together on the couch, close but with an invisible distance still lingering between you, a distance that even the simple act of holding hands hasn't been able to fully bridge. You can feel the weight of her presence beside you, and yet, the gap created by the events that have haunted you both remains ever present.

Scarlett shifts slightly in her chair, lowering the pen from her lips and tapping it softly against her notepad. She waits, always giving you space, always patient, but her eyes—those soft, green eyes that have always seen more than you want to reveal hold an understanding you can't quite meet.

"Y/n," Scarlett begins gently, her voice calm and measured, but tinged with concern. "How are you feeling today?"

The question lingers in the air, and for a moment, you can't bring yourself to answer.

The words stick in your throat, the jumble of emotions too heavy to untangle. Your gaze drops to your knee, watching as your leg continues to bounce, the rhythm a small outlet for the anxiety swirling inside you.

Wanda squeezes your hand slightly, her fingers tightening around yours, urging you forward. She doesn't say anything, but the small gesture is enough to remind you that she's here—right beside you.

You swallow hard, taking a shallow breath before speaking. "I...I don't know," you manage, your voice strained, barely a whisper. It's the truth, even if it feels inadequate.

Scarlett nods, not pushing you for more. She's seen this hesitation before, this uncertainty that comes when you're not sure where to start or how to put your emotions into words.

"How are you feeling, Wanda?" Scarlett turns her attention toward her, her voice steady, but softer.

Wanda hesitates for a moment. You can feel the tension in her fingers as she shifts beside you, her thumb stopping its rhythmic brushing. When she speaks, her voice is quieter than usual, more vulnerable. "I feel...helpless," Wanda admits, her gaze fixed on your joined hands. "I feel like I don't know how to help her anymore."

Her words hang heavy in the room, and you can't help the guilt that immediately twists inside your chest. You want to say something to reassure her that she's doing enough, that she's been more than you deserve but the words won't come. Instead, you stay quiet, your leg still bouncing, your mind spiraling in the silence.

Scarlett leans forward slightly, her pen still resting against her notepad as she addresses you both. "It's okay to feel helpless," she says softly, her gaze shifting between the two of you. "This process isn't easy. It's uncomfortable. But it's a process you don't have to go through alone."