part 28 :seeking piece

Fiona sat in the quiet room, the soft voice of the therapist a gentle hum in the background as she stared out the window. The sun was dipping low in the sky, painting the horizon with warm hues of gold, orange, and pink. The world outside seemed peaceful, untouched by the storm swirling in her chest. This was her first session, and for the first time in a long time, she felt like someone was finally listening—really listening to her.

The therapist's question had been simple, but it cut straight through the noise in Fiona's mind: "How are you feeling today?"

Fiona wasn't sure how to answer. The words felt foreign, like something she'd forgotten how to use. She didn't even know where to begin. She could feel the weight of everything pressing down on her, but it was hard to find the right words to explain it. She felt lost, tangled in the emotions and the situations she hadn't quite come to terms with yet. But the therapist didn't rush her. She didn't prod or expect immediate answers. She just gave Fiona the space and time she needed to find her own way.

Fiona exhaled slowly, sinking deeper into the chair as she gathered her thoughts. "I… I'm lost," she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. "It feels like everything's been a game, a battle. And now, I'm just… tired."

The therapist nodded, her gaze kind and understanding. She didn't say anything right away, but the knowing look in her eyes told Fiona she wasn't alone in this. "It sounds like you've been carrying a lot of weight on your own," the therapist said gently. "Sometimes, taking a step back can help you see things more clearly. What do you want for yourself?"

Fiona's mind went quiet at that question. What did she want for herself? She closed her eyes for a moment, allowing her thoughts to swirl and settle. It was hard to focus. Her life, it felt like, had been a series of endless battles. With herself. With others. She thought of Lucien, of how his cello music made her feel safe, his quiet presence like a shield against the chaos inside her. Then there was Dominic—intense and possessive, pulling at her heartstrings with every glance, every word, every touch. And Damien—passionate, distant, always there but always pulling away just when she needed him the most. Each of them had left an imprint on her, one that she wasn't sure how to erase or embrace.

But what about her?

The silence stretched out before her, but it wasn't uncomfortable. It was the kind of quiet that allowed her to breathe, to finally think clearly without the weight of others' expectations or demands. She wasn't just a part of someone else's story anymore. This moment was hers.

Fiona opened her eyes, her gaze shifting back to the therapist, who was waiting patiently. "I think," Fiona said softly, the words coming slowly but steadily, "I want to focus on myself. To stop running. To heal."

The therapist smiled, a gentle, encouraging smile that reached her eyes. "That's a good start," she said, her voice warm. "It's a big step. Sometimes we forget that healing isn't something that happens overnight. It takes time. But it starts with giving yourself the space to breathe."

Fiona nodded, the weight in her chest feeling a little lighter, a little more manageable. She had spent so much of her life running, trying to outrun the pain, the expectations, and the mess she felt inside. But maybe it was time to stop. Time to give herself the grace to heal, to be whole again—on her own terms.

The therapist leaned forward, folding her hands in her lap. "You don't have to have all the answers right now. It's okay to not know everything. But what I want you to remember is that you deserve peace. You deserve to find what makes you feel whole again."

Fiona swallowed, her throat tight. For a long time, she had believed that peace wasn't meant for her—that it was something unattainable, something that only came to those who weren't broken like she was. But in this room, with the therapist's calm presence surrounding her, Fiona began to wonder if maybe she was wrong. Maybe peace wasn't something she had to chase. Maybe it was something she could find within herself.

"I want that," Fiona whispered, more to herself than anyone else. "I want to heal. I want to stop running."

The therapist nodded again, her expression gentle. "That's the first step, Fiona. You're already on your way."

Fiona took a deep breath, her heart thumping softly in her chest. The road ahead was still uncertain, and she didn't have all the answers. But for the first time in a long time, she felt like she was no longer walking alone. There was a quiet strength in her now, a whisper of hope that maybe, just maybe, she could begin to piece herself back together. And that thought, fragile as it was, made her feel a little less lost than she had before.