Therapy or Treason?
Language: en
My hands wouldn't stop shaking. Hot, bitter tears spilled over my cheeks, blurring my vision. Just yesterday, I took a freelance makeup gig. My client turned out to be a sweet young girl in a wheelchair, secretly in love with my boyfriend. She, just like me, viewed Nolan as the absolute light of her life. He was my anchor, the man who had pulled me out of my darkest psychological depths step by step. But today, the brutal truth finally hit me. His boundless warmth wasn't exclusive to me. It was a public commodity. He held the young girl's hand, looking at me with utter…