Healing Melody (Very Slow Updates)

26. Reversed Roles

A/N:

This chapter is dedicated to anna-lissianna for continuously supporting my story with votes and comments. It really keeps me going and I couldn't be more grateful.

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*Warning: Mature scene up ahead. Read at your own risk*

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I make my way towards the restroom—the most logical place to check first—and there she is, standing parallel to the wall, her deep emerald gown partially illumined by the sconces on the opposite side.

For that brief moment where my presence is yet to be registered, I examine her side profile; shoulders pulled back and spine straight as a rod, that stubborn tilt to her chin, and ginger hair swept over her other shoulder, its rebellious shade of unruliness not tamed in the least by the warm lighting.

When she finally senses company, she turns her head slightly, exposing the rest of her face. The lights dance off her features, and for a second, the way they embellish her soft brown eyes fools me into thinking this is going to be a friendly chat.

But when her gaze hardens, I realize the lights stand no chance—they're at the mercy of the frost seeping from her eyes.

One wrong move would cause their extinguishment.

But my amber eyes hold flames of a clear conscience, not just light from an inanimate object. So I square my shoulders and put on a confident stance as I walk the last few steps towards her.

"Ms. Brooks, how... surprising." Her emotionless voice doesn't faze me and I pull my lips into a courteous smile.

"Yes. I agree, Mrs. Rivera." I stop in front of her, slightly hovering over her shorter height. "Did you want to talk about something?"

"Obviously, Ms. Brooks." She crosses her arms in front of her. "I can't have my family therapist dating my son who–" she looks me dead in the eye, "will be involved."

I resist the urge to fidget, matching her serious gaze. "Mrs. Rivera, we can talk more about this–"

"I don't want to switch therapists. So I hope you're just his one-time date, Ms. Brooks. Nothing more."

Words of objection gather in my mouth, but I shove them back down and extract another string of words more suited to deal with this kind of situation.

"Mrs. Rivera, I understand your concerns, but rest assured, I won't let personal emotions get in the way of my work." Before she can counter, I power on, "But, I also won't allow you to dictate my decisions," I look deep into her eyes, willing my amber orbs to evince the sobriety in my words, "because you have no right."

It'd be unfair to Galan, and to myself. But at the same time, I'm a professional, so I can't reject a client because of personal reasons.

She rolls her lips together at my boldness, searching my eyes for something. I give her a few seconds to respond, but when she doesn't, I muster another polite smile.

"And as I was saying before, we can talk about this more some other time. Not at an important event for someone who is equally important to the both of us." She still doesn't reply, so I nod once as a dismissal. "Now if you'll excuse me Mrs. Rivera, I have to use the restroom."

I skirt past her and push into the restroom, coming to stand in front of the stretch of sinks to watch the door behind me through the mirror.

After about half a minute, I finally release a breath of relief. But it's short-lived when the door pushes inwards to reveal another person who looks like she wants poke me to death with those manicured nails.