It had been days since Elena walked out of his life, yet Victor couldn’t shake her from his thoughts. The silence of his office was deafening, broken only by the faint ticking of the clock on the wall. He sat there, unmoving, his fingers drumming lightly against the edge of his mahogany desk.

Her face was everywhere—haunting him. . No matter how much he tried to focus on work, she consumed him.

Victor leaned back in his chair, the leather creaking under his weight. He closed his eyes and let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Why aren’t you coming back, Elena?” he murmured, his voice low and filled with longing.

He had convinced himself she needed him, that she’d realize it eventually. She had to. Yet every passing day felt like an eternity, and the distance between them only deepened his obsession.

......

Victor sat in his office, the soft glow of the evening sun streaming through the blinds, casting golden streaks across the room. The faint scent of old books and coffee lingered, grounding him as he thumbed through the patient files scattered on his desk. His tie felt uncomfortably tight, and he loosened it with a frustrated sigh.

The room was quiet, almost unnaturally so, when he sensed movement out of the corner of his eye. He looked up, and there she was—Elena.

She stepped into the room, her presence stealing the very air he breathed. She wore a long white dress that flowed like liquid silk, the fabric clinging delicately to her form before cascading to the floor. Her hair, dark and lustrous, tumbled freely over her shoulders, catching the light in a way that made it look like spun gold. Her skin glowed, smooth and radiant, like porcelain kissed by the sun.

Victor froze, his breath hitching as she moved toward him, her steps deliberate and graceful. There was an ethereal quality to her, as though she belonged to some dreamlike realm. Her lips curled into a soft, enchanting smile, one that made his heart race and his thoughts scatter.

“Elena,” he breathed, his voice barely above a whisper.

“You came,” he said as their eyes locked. His voice carried a mix of disbelief and yearning, his gaze drinking her in.

“How could I not?” she replied, her voice as soft and melodic as a lullaby. She moved closer, her scent—a mix of lavender and something sweet—wrapping around him, intoxicating his senses.

He watched, mesmerized, as she leaned forward, her lips curving into a smile that seemed to light up the entire room. Her hand brushed against his, a fleeting touch that sent a shiver down his spine. Her eyes, warm and inviting, held his gaze as though they could see every hidden part of him.

“You don’t know how long I’ve waited ” he murmured, his voice trembling with emotion.

Her smile widened as she leaned in further, her face inches from his. He could see every delicate detail—the way her lashes framed her eyes, the soft curve of her cheeks, the glow of her skin.

And just as her lips parted to speak—

“Doctor. Doctor!”

The sharp voice jolted him awake. He blinked, disoriented, as the image of Elena dissolved into the harsh reality of his office. The nurse stood before him, concern etched across her face.

He rubbed his temples, leaning back in his chair. “It was a dream,” he murmured to himself, the ache of disappointment settling in his chest. “She didn’t come.”

The nurse hesitated before speaking. “She did, Doctor.”

His head shot up, his eyes narrowing. “What do you mean? Who came?”

“Elena,” she said gently. “She came with her mother.”

His heart stuttered, a flicker of disbelief mingling with hope. “Are you telling me the truth?”

“Yes, Doctor . They’re waiting outside. Should I send them in?”

Victor straightened, a new kind of happiness lighting up his face. “Send them in,” he said, his voice steadier now.

The nurse turned to leave, but he stopped her with a call.

“Nurse,” he said, his tone thoughtful.

She turned back. “Yes, Doctor?”

“How did you know I was talking about Elena?”

The nurse smiled knowingly. “Who wouldn’t know, Doctor? Ever since she left, you’ve been restless. You don’t realize how often you ask me if she’s come back.”

He let out a quiet “Oh,” feeling slightly exposed.

The nurse chuckled softly. “You’re different from other doctors. I’ve never seen anyone care so much for a patient. It only adds to your charm.”

He waved her off, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Alright, alright, go now. Call her in.”

“I was going. You stopped me,” she said with a playful smirk as she left the room.

Victor leaned back in his chair once more, his heart racing with anticipation. This time, it wasn’t a dream.

........

Elena knocked on the door, her heart pounding against her chest. As the door creaked open, he appeared, his gaze landing on her. For a moment, he froze, his expression softening as he admired her.

“Come in, Elena,” he said, his voice calm yet professional.

Elena stepped inside hesitantly, followed closely by her mother.

“Have a seat,” he gestured toward the chairs in front of his desk. As they settled down, he turned his attention to Elena. “How are you feeling, Elena?”

“I’m fine,” she replied quickly, her voice quiet, but there was a flicker of hesitation in her tone.

Her mother, however, interjected. “She’s been having nightmares ever since she came home from the hospital.”

He sighed, his expression turning serious. “I’ve mentioned before how important therapy is in cases like this. Has her father agreed to it?”

“We didn’t tell him,” her mother admitted, her voice edged with frustration. “He doesn’t believe in such things, but I couldn’t wait any longer.”

He nodded. “I understand. So, have you decided to proceed with therapy?”

“Yes,” her mother answered firmly.

“how long will she need to come?” her mother asked, leaning forward anxiously.

“Psychological healing takes time,” he explained patiently. “I can’t give you an exact timeline, but she’ll need at least three months of therapy, coming three times a week.”

Her mother frowned. “I can’t accompany her that often. I have work.”

“That’s fine. She doesn’t need to be accompanied. Elena can come alone,” he assured her. Then, turning to Elena, he asked gently, “Is that okay with you, Elena? Do you have any concerns about coming alone?”

Elena hesitated, looking down at her hands. “What happens in therapy?” she asked, her voice tinged with fear.

He noticed the tremor in her voice and offered a reassuring smile. “Nothing that will harm you, I promise. Therapy is about understanding your feelings and working through them at your own pace.”

Despite his calm explanation, he could sense her unease. Was it the nightmares that scared her so much, or was there something else she wasn’t saying?

“Don’t be scared, Elena. You can trust me,” he said softly. “There’s no rush, and no one will force you into anything. But the sooner we address this, the better it will be for you.”

“She’s doing it,” her mother cut in decisively.

“Mom, I…” Elena started, but her mother interrupted again. “I don’t want you to keep suffering through these nightmares. We need to fix this before it gets worse.”

He gave Elena a moment to process before speaking again. “If she’s ready, she can start tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow it is,” her mother agreed, leaving no room for argument.

As they stood to leave, he called out, “Wait, Elena.”

Elena turned back, her brows furrowed in curiosity.

He opened a drawer, retrieving a small pill. Holding it out to her, he said, “Take this before bed tonight. It will help you sleep without nightmares.”

Elena hesitated, her eyes flickering between the pill and his face.

“You can trust me,” he assured her again, his voice steady.

After a moment, she reached out, taking the pill from his hand. “Thank you, Doctor,” she murmured, her voice barely audible.

“You’re welcome,” he said, watching as she left with her mother. There was still a shadow of fear in her eyes.