name of the chapters does not mean the entire chapter is one day.
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My 'Alexa' alarm blares Despacito through my room. Definitely the pace I will be cleaning up this morning. My clothing is the average professional skirt and blouse.
Snowflakes stick to my eyelashes and I hear the quiet murmurs of shy girls gossiping. I frown to myself, noticing how nobody seems to be themselves. These girls look too cute and optimistic to be talking about others in the ways that they are.
I bring my hair back, setting my coffee down on the table in Biggby's. While checking my watch, I mentally groan. Well, I should feel lucky that I got myself a small coffee instead of my usual large.
Rushing out of the shop, I pass by a few people smoking cigarettes. Some warming their hands over a fire. And a few huddled together like penguins. My eyes search the city for the building I work at and I manage to locate it through the cloud of snow floating down on to my face.
The people around the city push through the large crowds and I try my best to join them. After what feels like a year of walking through an ocean of people, I squeeze through and jog over to the tall building that I work at.
I open the doors and guide myself into the warm air of the place and over to the elevator which consisted of two tattooed guys and a blonde girl. I nod at them giving the three a simple 'good morning'. They all smile at me and say the same back and the elevator opens to the floor I'm on. Surprisingly, the others walk out too.
I pass by a few of my patients who have appointments soon and I give them all a welcoming smile.
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Being a therapist is not an easy profession, but I wouldn't trade it for anything. You see, I've gone through practically everything that my clients are going through, so I know how to help them fight through their debacles.
When I was younger, my therapist told me how I would fit this job perfectly. At first, I didn't believe the man. Look at me now. I'm sitting in my own 'office', my notepad tucked into a manila folder.
My clock beeps, telling me that my first patient's appointment is ready and I stand up from my black, leather chair and open the door to call out their name.
"Elizabeth Tremblay," I mutter, not wanting to disturb other sessions going on. Elizabeth looks up from the magazine she's flipping through and sets it back on the table beside her. I step back into the room, glancing at the clock. Eight thirty, sharp.
I motion for Elizabeth to take a seat on the leather couch facing me and she does so. As I open my folder to grab my notepad, she bursts out into tears.
I point my pen at the tissue boxes and she grabs a couple to keep in her hands. Elizabeth blows her nose and dabs at her cheeks to wipe off the tears. I silently wait until she feels ready to begin speaking about what is happening to her.
After a few moments, she gets herself back together and starts speaking. "I'm interested in two guys and they're close friends except I don't know if one of them is interested in me like their friend is."
I nod, writing a few notes down.
"Do these lucky guys names?" I ask her, trying to get a clearer picture.
"Jason and Nathan," she tells me and I write that down too.
"Is there anything else?"
She shakes her head, 'no'.
"Which guy is which?" I ask Elizabeth. "Who is interested in you?"
"Jason is interested," she thinks to herself. "I'm not sure about Nathan."

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Obligation (18+)
RomanceWhere a Psychologist dips her toe into the dangerous waters of a satisfying coping skill. • The new Satyriasis.