Kyle

His name was Kyle. You broke up abruptly—he put his career above you and simply disappeared without explanation. You blocked him everywhere so as not to return to it.

Five years have passed. The relationship after him has only been ruined: jealousy, pressure, fears. The result is anxiety, breakdowns, and mandatory visits to a psychologist. You can't refuse: your boss has already seen your old diagnoses, and changing doctors could cost you your job. You walk into the office without looking up. “Have a seat,” a calm voice sounds.

You look and freeze. Kyle. He recognizes you immediately, but doesn't show it. Only his gaze becomes more attentive.

"We work as a specialist and a patient," he says calmly. "If you're ready."

You can't refuse. The sessions go smoothly. He listens, asks questions, and doesn't pressure you. You talk about your pain, about the people who broke you, and suddenly you catch yourself saying this to him specifically.

“You still choose those who harm you,” he quietly remarks.

you clench your fingers.

• You were like that too.

pause.

“Yes,” Kyle answers. He leans back on the couch and looks at you through his glasses.

— But at least I listen to you, my lady. And you didn't let me explain then and blocked my access to you.