Wednesday, December 22nd.
Dr Jackson was making a lot of notes, which was weird, because I hadn’t said very much.
“I finished for Christmas today.” I chirped. “I’m going home.”
“You seem… excited? I wasn’t expecting that.” She didn’t lift her eyes from the paper.
Myself and Harry had both discussed not telling Bryony about our little set up, because fucking hell, I’d never get out of therapy if she knew I was setting up fake relationships to deal with my family. I’d have to keep seeing her for the rest of my damn life.
another vote for a bible story, which one are you thinking of?