The Ones For Him

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"Xavier Jameson?"

I looked up when they called my name and got up, following the receptionist into a larger room which had multiple doors in a hall. She led me into a room on the left and opened the door, allowing me to step in.

I looked around the place and found that it was a pretty big office. The room was a navy-blue with a big, dark-brown desk in the corner and couches closer to the door. There were bookshelves and paintings up on the walls along with an island and cupboards to my left. There was a sink, microwave, and a mini-fridge.

I turned around again when there were quiet footsteps and watched a man walk out of what seemed to be a private bathroom. He looked at me and smiled.

"Are you Xavier?" I nodded so he walked closer to me and stuck his hand out. I shook it and he gave me a bigger smile, "Welcome, I'm Dr. Martin. You can go sit on the couch and I'll be right there."

I nodded and walked towards the couch, sitting on the one against the wall so I could see the whole room. I watched the older man gather some stuff from his desk so I took the time to look at him.

Dr. Martin looked to be maybe in his late thirties with a slim frame. He was a bit taller than me and had dark hair with russet-colored eyes. He had a much softer face structure with dimples which I noticed when he smiled at me.

He walked closer and sat on the smaller couch across from me with a leather notebook and a pen in his hands. He opened up the notebook and flipped through a few pages, then stopped one, looking up at me with a gentle face expression.

"Dr. Powell sent me an email about you and a brief summary about your situation. He diagnosed you with post-traumatic stress disorder, correct?"

"Yeah." I nodded and held my hands together.

"Alright, I want you to tell me what's been happening with you for the past few weeks. Tell me what you've been seeing and experiencing, but do go into detail so that will make me understand more of what you're dealing with, ok?"

I nodded and unconsciously looked around the room. "Um, a few years ago..."

I told Dr. Martin about the day leading up to the first accident with Alvaro and Felix. I pretty much had to tell him that I was in the mafia or else it wouldn't make sense to him. I did go into detail about the accident and that's when I started having trouble breathing a bit.

"I-I tried...warning-calling out..." I fidgeted on the couch and tried to get more comfortable, but it was hard since I didn't feel comfortable at all.

"Ok, we'll take a break. You're having an anxiety attack right now, so I'll help you through it." Dr. Martin helped me calm down and taught me a few ways to calm myself if I was to have an anxiety or panic attack out in public or at home.

I felt better afterwards, but I still felt a bit anxious and tense. I resumed the story and finished after a while, then started on the second incident. I think I sort of zoned out, but jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

I looked up at Dr. Martin and scrunched my brows together. "Sorry, what did you say?"

"Here..." He handed me a box of tissues and that made me confused.

I touched my face and realized that my cheeks were wet. I don't remember crying while I told the story or much of the explanation to Dr. Martin really.

I took a tissue and wiped my cheeks and eyes. "Um, d-did I finish?"

"You don't remember?" He sat across from me and I shook my head.