therapy (scömìche au)

thirteen

|| Saturday ||

"So, why are you in here Mitch?" Doctor Hoying asks and Mitch freezes.

"Parents are away. I already told you."

"No, I meant why are you in therapy?"

"You should know."

"I don't. Your mother just told me to 'fix you' but I can't do that if I don't know what's wrong."  

Mitch pauses and glances around before uncapping his pen and writing.

"This is a very nice office."

Doctor Hoying stares at the board, an unreadable expression on his face before nodding and glancing around.

"I guess it is. I mean, I had to personalise it somehow so I put up pictures of Landon."

Mitch stares at the pictures of the cute baby. Something stirs in his stomach but he ignores it, wiping his board and starting again.

"He's cute."

"He is. I love him from the ground to the stars and I would do anything for him." Doctor Hoying stares at the pictures, a small smile on his face.

"Is he yours?"

Mitch wipes his board.

"What is he to you?"

He wipes it again.

"He's got an amazing father."

Mitch clears his throat and shows Doctor Hoying the board. The blonde bursts out laughing, showing gorgeous crinkles by his eyes.

"Oh Mitch," a few chuckles escapes the therapist's lips again and Mitch just sits there confused.

Is he laughing at Mitch?

"Landon isn't my child; he's my nephew."

A feeling fills Mitch and he becomes even more confused when he recognises it.

Relief.