Methy Barrett...

I was thinking about the case Dr Brooke suggested to me. I didn't realize when night went in blur.

I called her this morning and asked her if I could consult Elijah Hawthorne in the hospital. The safe place where people are around.

Not like it's too dangerous here in my house; neighbours are across the road, but I doubt that they will come to save me with one scream.

I am thinking too much.

Dr Brooke suggested that my house is a beautiful place; it will work as therapy. She always says that. Also, they want to keep it confidential. It's not like I go out and gossip about it; I hardly have friends in this town.

It's against ethics anyway.

But that's not my concern. My concern is that Elijah Hawthorne is not someone random. He is a big name in the city. He is involved in big decisions that shape the politics of the city.

And power comes with many enemies; they have finally found something to hold him back.

Dr Brooke mentioned the board of directors; does it mean my report is going to influence something big? I can already feel the weight on my shoulders.

I searched him on the internet, and there isn't much information about him except for the business brands he handles. I tried to search for his wife, but there is nothing, not even a mention of it.

If she is dead and a police case was filed, then it should have been all over the internet.

But who am I kidding? Families like Hawthorne know how to keep their name clean.

Did he really kill his wife?

This is making me curious, and it's not good. I have informed Dr Brooke that I'll decide if I want this case or not at my first meeting with Elijah.

I locked my phone and kept it on the table in the living room where I usually consult people. There is no fixed place, though; sometimes we walk in the garden outside of my house. They love it.

I stared at the phone; deep down, I expect Thomas to call me. Didn't he see my missed calls or messages? What was he thinking?

I had no idea that his lack of communication would ghost me someday like this. I shouldn't feel hurt, but I guess it's a process of healing.

I need a distraction from him and his memories.

I went out to the lawn, and fresh air fanned my brunette hair. I keep it short; it's easy to maintain on busy days. Not like I am a fan of long hair.

My eyes fell on the plant pot on the stairs of the entrance; Amy must have knocked it down yesterday. I haven't come out since yesterday.

I wonder what she is doing now; has she already been shifted to an asylum? I haven't gotten any update from Dr Brooke since I mailed her Amy's file. I hope the child gets better.

I bent down to pick up the pot, and the shiny leather shoes came into view. My furrowed eyes slowly travelled up: an expensive black suit, a coal black collar.

The sharp jaw with light stubble, thin lips, long nose and finally those amber eyes. Sharp and scrutinising. The vein on his temple pulsed when he stared down at me.

My heart jumped at that look, and I realised that we were in a very inappropriate position. He was standing on the second stair while I was kneeling on the first stair. My face was exactly in front of his belt.

Fuck!

I quickly got up.

"Hello, Mr Elijah..."

He looked at me like he was expecting an apology for an embarrassing moment.

I don't think I should be sorry for anything; he shouldn't have stood so close to me.

I might know a few things about him, but one thing I am sure about is that he looks like an arrogant man. It's dripping from his face.

He ignored me and walked straight to my couch in my living room.

Good, he doesn't have manners either. It's going to be a difficult one.

I dusted my hands and entered. He had occupied the whole couch, and it's not small. This man definitely has an incredible physique.

"Would you like some water?"

I have to break the ice. I am already annoyed, but I have to try before rejecting him.

Still no answer. His eyes slowly roamed around my living room. Nothing is interesting, to be honest, only a few decors which brings home to life. I send all my files to Dr Brooke once I am done with them so I don't have piles of dusty files anywhere in my house.

I sat across from him. My heart jumped again. Why am I feeling like this? I know that attractive people sometimes confuse the energy, but this much? I guess we are going to explore new things here.

I thought I didn't have it in me, but god! This man is gorgeous. The pictures on the internet don't do justice to his beauty.

No one would say that this man lost his loving wife a month ago. His face has no grief, no sadness, but the thing is, he is not at peace either. His eyes are not calm, not restless either, but there is something in between. Which might unfold as we go ahead with our sessions.

"How long is it going to take?"

His eyes were on my phone, which I set there earlier.

He isn't someone who had come to be evaluated; he is here to see if I am worth his time.

"That depends."

"On what?"

His eyes are still on my phone. Maybe he is suspicious that I am recording this conversation.

"On how cooperative you are."

I didn't move my phone.

His lips twisted.

"Then you probably should cancel this appointment."

"Looks like we both think alike."

His eyes finally met mine.

For the first time, something changed in his expression. He wasn't expecting me to say that.

Well, I am not the only one who is going to get cocky answers in these sessions. If we decide to continue.

But he didn't look offended.

Interested maybe.

Then I hit the nail.

"People say you killed your wife?"

Something snapped inside him, and the next thing I knew was that my phone flew across the room and shattered on the wall.

I watched him, shocked.

"Mr Elijah, that was my phone."

He cursed something under his breath and stormed out of the house.

I stared at my shattered phone.

Well, I guess I have my answer for Dr Brooke now.