My Celebrity Therapist's Cruel Deception

your uterus... it' s a miracle you conceived at all. It' s uniquely structured, almost a one-time event for you. Carrying

he bitter irony. Here I was, fighting for a life I barely had within me, a life I was willing to sacrifice everything for. Meanwhile, Carlt

n burned in my mind, a

omething unreadable in his eyes before he resumed his therapist facade

, often breaking things. Carlton had been annoyed, even suggesting

something resembling pity, even a flicker of curiosity, whenever Carmen spoke of her "suffering." I, the naive fool, had even tried to help Carmen find a safe house, offering her money, but s

caping my lips, "my attempt to 'save' her with ethical means failed. But

usea in my stomach, Carlton's phone buzzed. A text. Then another. His face, illuminated by the screen, softe

nnection. We must maintain a healthy distance for optimal mental well-being." His words, once accepted as wisdom, now sounded like a cruel jo

nto it. Now I understood. It wasn' t about hormones or well-being. It was about her. An

And with that realization, a profound sense of abandonment washed

m done. The words formed silently, a quiet, resolute declaration. I was

gling with his usual cologne. He caught my eye, then quickly looked away, running a hand over

on?" I asked, my voice

issue work. Sometimes patients express gratit

not bothering to

rate rooms for a while, Alexis. My work is incredibly drainin

d suffocating. I went through the motions of p

movements jerky. "Carmen?" he whispered into the phone, his voice laced with concern. He thre

clarity had settled over me. I needed to see. I followed him, my car tailing his through the deserted streets, the ci

hes were torn, a smear of blood visible on her forehead. He looked frantic, his usual composure com

ht, his face etched with genuine fear and concern. He, the man who meticulously sanitized his hands after every patient, who once scolded

this time, it was a clean break