Lerato

I opened the door heading to the other side of my office, despite what goes on in here this had quickly become my safe space. Nestled within a tranquil corner, my office welcomed with soft, earth-toned walls that exude warmth. Sunlight filtered through billowy curtains, casting a gentle glow on plush, oversized armchairs arranged around a low coffee table. On the other side a comfortable couch and oversized armchair next to it for preference for my clients.

A vintage rug in soothing hues spreads beneath, complementing the soothing aroma of scented candles. Bookshelves line the walls, adorned with potted plants that bring a touch of nature indoors, I wanted to take the outdoors everywhere with me. The ambiance and hues encouraged relaxation and open conversation, creating a haven for healing and self-discovery which was the whole purpose of this room.

"Lerato." She said sounding it out making me role my eyes whenever she started off like that I knew nothing good would come out of her mouth next.

"What? London." I deadpanned placing my files on my table at the corner of my office as I walked around it. I wondered how long she would be in the city- London was the definition of a busy woman.

"Nothing I just find it funny that your parents named you after love yet you have never been in love. Such a bittersweet curse." She said making herself comfortable in one of the chairs opposite my table. I only rolled my eyes at her smiling, only because I loved my name actually I was quite obsessed with it.

I was the girl who believed in love actually not love but true love -the downside to this were my delusions.

"Why won't you just leave these nut jobs and come with me." She whined. Oh that's why she was here. Luthando wanted me to take a week off and run off with her to God knows where -she was a person who lived in the moment in a logical way it was tricky to explain it and it seemed impossible but she somehow just did, I on the other hand planned to be retired at 35 save as much money as I can and then go see the ocean -I had no interest in the world but the deep blue waters that held serenity.

"Don't disrespect my patients." I loved my job I wouldn't change it for anything in the world. I have always been interested in the human brain for as far as I could remember but I never thought I would be a therapist -seeing as I was a qualified psychiatrist but decided being a therapist was a better option for me. I hadn't even spent a full year being a psychiatrist before I switched.

"Are they not nut jobs- you are way too beautiful for this." The woman lacked filters of any sorts.

"Do you not work for cruel people who put the innocent in jail or six feet underground." She looked at me squinting her eyes as she looked around my office.

"Touché." She said making me smile. I looked down at my patients that I had said my final goodbyes to, I had built a connection with all of them so it was a little sad for me to see them go, that was one of my problems I got too attached. I was the one psychiatrist that you would find that didn't follow majority of the things that she studied when it came to herself and I was okay with that. London wasn't and she never failed or missed the opportunity to express her hatred for it.

"You should get more colour in here." I sighed, we had this discussion every time she entered my office which was why I never wanted her here but she had insisted this time she would just stay for a while.

"The pale coloured walls offer a calming and soothing effect for my patients- it's not about me or you but about my patients because we are at my job- remember."

"Whatever you say. Can you at least please reconsider one last time before I have to leave ever since our careers took off we haven't spent much time together. I'm always travelling for my cases and you are always with your nut jobs- I mean special cases." She said correcting herself at my stink eye, which didn't change anything.

"Lerato I am worried about you; you are way too fragile for this I know you now deal with 'normal' people but maybe they too will end up messing with you- I don't want what happened before to happen again. You are way too young for this." She said of course at normal she used apostrophes with her hands. The woman didn't believe in any of my patients -she refused to believe I just specialise in good old therapy now. Despite what happened in the past I tried by all means to move on from it and I have moved on.

She was right on one hand, I had stopped being a psychiatrist because everything became too real too quick, I mean for as long as I could remember I had always been book smart -my qualification came easy to me but when I actually had to put it into practice on my own I started having issues -I wanted to help people but it became way too dark for me and then it became dangerous so my Uncle suggested I just go into therapy and I have never looked back since then this was so much better -it didn't give me nightmares.

"If I say I will think about it for real will you stop harassing me?" I asked watching her as a smile spread across her plumb red pinkish lips, her light brown eyes turning soft at my words as she stood up to her 5'4 frame. Her long black straight hair swaying with her movement.

"I will draw up a contract." I immediately shook my head knowing better the last time she tricked Hope and myself into signing those we almost ended up in prison because we could not make her trip due to our flights being delayed.

"I'm definitely not making that mistake again." Her smiled dropped as she picked up her purse.

"I will let you think about it for now. Well I will be on my way now. I at least know Hope will sign it." She said turning to leave as I chuckled behind her, watching her walk out.

I sighed turning around on my chair watching the mirror that London had sent to my office without my knowledge because she claimed it need a little ...life. Yes she was impossible, but I honestly wouldn't have it any other way. She was one of the best lawyers in the world she travelled quite a lot for her job and she loved it. In our 23 years on this planet we were just now fully experiencing the working life and my did it have a lot to offer.

I looked at my brownish pink lips that glistened under the light due to the lip therapy I had applied not so long ago- today wasn't about work anyways. I looked at my reflection people claimed I was a combination of my mom and my dad but I didn't see it, I recognised the little features I got from them but I couldn't count the amount of times I had asked them if I was adopted.

My eyes, deep brown pools framed by long, thick eyelashes, drew attention just as Hope had often remarked. These were the eyes inherited from my father, though mine held a shade lighter than his. The delicate almond shape of my eyes, however, had my mother's signature, her resemblance to a supermodel undeniable. Yet, her modesty always brushed aside my compliments, attributing my praise to my father's influence.

As my gaze wandered from my perfectly-shaped nose to the curve of my high cheekbones, I contemplated my reflection as I didn't have a mirror back home. My forehead boasted those baby hairs, persistently reaching out to graze my eyebrows—a minor annoyance on occasion. It might seem like I had a full coat of hair, but that wasn't the case; my face and scalp bore the brunt, leaving me bald elsewhere. Hope often quipped it was a blessing, those other hair-covered areas taking ages to grow back—something she considered advantageous.

Shifting my attention, my neatly braided hair formed a professional updo, and a sigh escaped as my focus shifted to my attire. Dressed in black suit pants, I couldn't help but lament the monotony of my wardrobe. This was a price I paid for the job I held—a vestige from my very first employment. The requirement to wear subdued hues was an unyielding part of the job, a directive meant to ensure our presence remained unobtrusive. Every aspect of our appearance needed to be restrained, calm, and devoid of any threatening aura.

I wasn't expecting any patients today; instead, I had a scheduled meeting with my uncle. My gaze drifted to the corner of the room where I've conducted countless sessions. Even now, it surprised me that I had shifted from working within jail cells to this therapeutic environment. Thoughts of my uncle occupied my mind; he had promised to arrive at 11:00 a.m., and he was never one to be tardy. Ordinarily, I wouldn't be concerned, but our last conversation left me uneasy. His tone over the phone had conveyed worry and regret, unusual for him, a man of strength and resolve. Our exchange had been brief, he'd kept it curt.

Glancing at my watch, which read 11:30, I contemplated whether I should call him and confirm his attendance. Just as the thought crossed my mind, the office phone rang. Acting swiftly, I put it on speaker, but the voice on the other end anticipated me.

"Lerato."

"Uncle Roger," I replied, concern inadvertently creeping into my voice. Despite not sharing blood, he was family by virtue of being my father's closest friend. At every event, he and his wife Gloria were a steadfast presence.

"Are you all right?" The question slipped out, his sigh audible over the speaker. There was an unusual tension in his tone.

"I apologize for not being there in person; I'm currently... held up abroad," he said nervously.

He proceeded to address the favor he'd mentioned earlier. His words came in fits and starts, as if he struggled to convey his message. "The favor I'm about to ask, Sobrina, it's crucial. I understand this isn't your usual line of work anymore, but I wouldn't ask if I had any other option. Trust me, it's a matter of urgency."

"Of course, Uncle Roger."

He chuckled softly, the sound tinged with an odd mix of unease and relief. "A friend of mine is concerned about her two sons. They're not diagnosed psychopaths, but she believes therapy could benefit them."

"Why mention it if they're not diagnosed?" I questioned, puzzled by his approach.

"I simply want you to exercise caution," he said, his disquiet reflecting my own.

Uncle Roger's unease resonated with me, and his cryptic words intrigued and confused me. He continued, revealing a staggering offer: "This friend is willing to pay you four times your annual earnings, on the condition that you prioritize her sons—meaning you'll have to cut back on your current patient load."

I hesitated, knowing that abandoning my patients, whom I'd worked tirelessly with, wasn't a decision to be taken lightly. Yet, the plea in Uncle Roger's voice was heartrending. "I ca..."

"I understand your attachment to your patients, Sobrina, but I'm begging you to help me. I'm in dire straits."

His desperation was palpable, a stark contrast to the jovial uncle I'd always known. The emotional toll this had taken on him spurred me to make a choice.

"Fine, Uncle Roger. I'll do it. Are you sure you're all right?" I inquired, my concern for him genuine.

"Thank you, Sobrina. You've saved me, more than you know," he said, his voice almost breaking.

As I hung up, I resolved to speak to his wife later, seeking assurance of his well-being. I knew he wouldn't let me into his troubles easily, but I'd do whatever it took to alleviate his distress.

Before leaving, I tucked my phone back into my purse, reflecting on why I'd come to the office when the meeting could have transpired at home. Feeling the weight of uncertainty gnaw at me, I decided to spend time with friends to lighten my mood. Although my workload would decrease, the thought of leaving my patients behind felt like betrayal.

Before departing, I intended to see Amanda, asking for her assistance in person. Despite her repeated offers, I wanted to ensure I wouldn't be imposing. Amanda's kindness was boundless, and while my reduced caseload seemed like an advantage, it carried an emotional burden.

...