The Therapy

The environment was tidied, and so were the interiors. The voice of people chatting cheerfully could be heard from the reception. It begins as a chuckle, then slowly it turns into peals of a merry giggle. Now, it had finally transformed into a full-fledged chortle.

Kingston stopped for a while contemplating whether he should enter or not. looking at his wristwatch, it's 7:00 am sharp.

He walked in, interrupting the two people. Chatting joyously at the reception table.

You came right on time Mr. Kingston, right? ask one of the receptionists. As they composed into a working mood.

Kingston nodded his head. claiming he's right.

Please we shall be proceeding immediately... he repeated, as he paused to massage his ankle.

We've got a procedure, so you may sign here. he spoke again.

Kingston: shall we already? Kingston asked with expectant eyes, probably not wanting any delay.

Here sir. replied a nurse from another angle.

She led him towards an elevator, which opened automatically. She pressed the control button no.21.

021. she said, sounding audible enough for Kingston to hear her... that's the main office area. She finished.

mmh. reply Kingston with a nod.

Dema's Office

Inside a spacious room covering an area of 8.7 to 9m in length, with a POP ceiling and a single glass window.

Only a side table with two executive sofas, each in an adjacent position to the center table; could be seen. Out of every expanse.

In the office Kingston was made to sit on one of the metal padded executive chairs, facing a man who was dressed in a casual suit.

He's been going through Kingston's report, and he would pause on several occasions.

Staring at Kingston now and then.

Kingston: hmm mmh. he cleared his throat as his beginning to get impatient.

THE THERAPY.

Was being with her something you wanted to happen? ask Dema, the therapist.

Kingston: It was. replied Kingston hesitantly. lowering his eyes, as he pretends to have something underneath his trousers. seemly not expecting the question.

Dema: Why. he asks again.

Because I thought it might take my mind off things... reply Mr Kingston (1)

did it? ask Dema

No. reply Mr Kingston, in a hushed tone.

You feel like you were doing something wrong. Dema asks again.

Mr Kingston: Yes.

Dema: why

Because it made me think of Stephanie. replied Mr Kingston, but this time looking outside the glass window, probably avoiding Dema's eye contact.

Dema: Think what exactly.... ask Dema. He pauses again to see his reaction. He was tearing up already. seeing his patient like that, Dema could only pause for the time being; as Mr Kingston grows more lachrymal secretion.

Dema: Ste pha nie? Dema repeats the name, before handing him some tissue papers.

Kingston: thanks. Kingston thanks him, trying to sound okay, "he continues...

That's my late wife's name.. he started, before smiling bitterly. Charlotte could never be her.

Dema: no one is replaceable Kings. he said, calling him in short terms. And that...