My Celebrity Therapist's Cruel Deception

arlton, clad in his expensive suit, his face pale and drawn, was signing papers at the nurse's station. His hand tremb

to the patie

cond, then looked up, his voice cle

for fear of "professional repercussions." He had insisted we keep our engagement a secret for months, citing his need to "maintain an objective im

directed at me. He was capable of such profound emotion. Just not for me. He was broken for her, just a

lready gone, melting back into the shadows of the h

of the living room, as he meticulously, almost reverently, hand-washed the blood-stained shirt he' d worn. That same shirt he' d been so car

ough night," he said, avoiding my gaze. He began preparing a steaming bowl of broth,

flowers, and headed for the door. "I'm going back to the hospital. She

tight. His concern, his devotion, was all for her. My own dinner, left

o of her, pale but smiling, nestled against Carlton' s shoulder, his arm around her. T

prescription. Never this tender embrace, this public declaration. My stomach churned, a familiar wave

ocating pressure. I needed air. I nee

nfidentiality." It was the one place in our house he always kept locked, the one place I had never entered. I used to joke about it

men to remember. My heart pounded as I pushed it open. The air was thick with the

al journals and patient files, a small, floral-patterned notebook lay

my eyes devouring

is precious patients. So kind. So worried. If only he knew

store. To help with the "abuse." He's so easy to manip

ut it's part of the plan. Make him feel guilty. Make hi

op thinking about me. We talked for hours. He was s

t was just "somatic therapy." But his eyes, they wandered. He wa

it was therapy, but we both knew. He feels guilty, though. He promised me a huge sum of money, a house, a new identity. Just for being "his pa

revelation of grotesque betrayal. They had been sleeping together for weeks, probably months. In his study. In ou

He let me believe his lies, let me suffer, all while giving Carm

drumbeat against my skull, but it was nothing compared to the agony in my heart. My marriage was dead, l

finally streamed down my face, hot and stinging, blurring t

eamed inwardly at Carlton. Why the

ngers steady despite the trembling in my body. Click, click, c

smile playing on my lips. He was still at the hospital, pl

ent of Carmen. My next call was to my CEO. I needed to arrange some