webnovel

Lace

The old lady had been staring at me since I arrived in this silver cubicle, making me fidget under her sharp judgmental glare which was cutting through her big brown glasses. My sweaty hands were woven together like a knitted sweater and my legs were now a wooden log, tired of bouncing in this dreadful delay of my appointment. The room was filled with a thick tension of stubborn loneliness. I looked at my hands to avoid the intimidating lady. Then, a big sturdy certain hand slid on mine, unwinding them, "Hey it's not so bad, Sara. You are doing great so far, you will be fine", Tim said and kissed my cheek. It always amazed me how such rock-strong hands could feel so tender. He scooted closer to me, engulfing my trepidations with his mildly strong but warm cologne. I turned to face him but only saw a metallic empty chair. "Ms. Sara, Dr. Callas is ready to see you now.", a tiny woman with a bundle of papers announced. My neck snapped towards her. I collected myself and went inside the cabin.

"Hi Sara, it's been a long time since I have seen you.", she came in for a hug. Dr. Judy Callas was more than a therapist. She was my mom's friend since her college, hence the disposition.

"Yes, it has been two years or so.", I hugged her back. Her white buttery arms squished me between them.

"I have heard about you and Tim. I know breakups can be tough to deal with. And Tim was someone who could've been very imperishable".

Whenever I heard his name, I could feel the uncontrollable flow of emotion flooding through the timid gates of my mind. I always started to quiver under the weight of his name and memories.

"I am kind of uncomfortable talking about this", I cleared, ignoring her calculating gaze. Her eyes lingered at me for a while as if she was reading my mind or my paranoia forced me to believe that.

"Fair enough. Then what brings you here honey?", her soft kind eyes melted when they met mine.

"I can't stop thinking about dad. I have tried to distract myself. But nothing seems to work. I have tried to keep myself busy with my office, but whatever I do, his voice and memories just don't leave me."

"These are the exact problems you were facing when you started this therapy.", she scribbled something on a paper.

"Yes, and now they are occurring all over again.", I stated.

"I know you've mentioned before that we should not talk about your relationship. I can't help but see a pattern here. Maybe you not being able to talk about Tim and suppressing it further, is making everything that happened with your dad bounce back. And we both know that Tim helped you in dealing with it. Only he saw your sufferings and pushed you for therapy", she paused.

"And it's normal for a person to relapse if something similar happens to them."

It was a beautiful Sunday afternoon, I went to the central park to be alone for a while. The sun was so bright as if someone was smiling at me from above, the sky so blue and clear that birds flying seemed to swim in it. It was as blue as the ocean. And its vastness made my heart flutter. After visiting Dr. Callas in that dreadful pedantic place, I deserved to enjoy this beauty.

Shiny bright days have always shown me that no matter how much darker the night gets, a single ray of sunshine is enough to defeat the darkness. It is the sunshine, solely, which can make something as beautiful as a rainbow after ugly storms. The steady yellow sun was my anchor when my life was only rains and storms. My father called me yellow, because to him, I was his hope. When I was born, he had hope that he could escape his demons and love one more person on this earth as he had never loved before. 'I miss him, but I am better off without him.'

Neil asked me to meet him at the coffeehouse. I hadn't seen him for a week now. He was out on a business trip and had only returned last night. He called me from the airport itself to check up on me. 'What will I ever do without him?' I reached the coffeehouse and as I expected he wasn't there. I sat at the corner table. I wasn't complaining about waiting for him, as I was so used to it. Tapping my finger on the table I looked outside the glass pane, the Sun was about to hide behind the brisk city. My mind strolled back to the envelope which was sitting in my bag like a curse. I still hadn't dared to see what it held. I dug into my purse curiously to pull out that dense piece of paper.

From National Intelligence service (NIS-EYP)

Headquarters

Athens, Greece

"Here we go.", I sighed

To Sara,

We hope this letter finds you in pink of your health. We have tried to contact you through calls and emails for two months but we are unable to reach you. We haven't received any reply from your side. We understand that you asked us not to contact you because of the unfortunate events that occurred. But your great potential can be put to a greater use if you hear us out for once. We have some questions to ask. We hope that you understand that being a Former Software engineer at NIS-EYP burdens you with some obligations. And one of them is not disregarding us. We are hoping to hear from you.

Task-force head

Gregory Jefferson.

I leaned back in the chair. A cyclone of questions arose in my head. It had been two years since I left the job. I hadn't spoken to anyone about the details because of the confidentiality that needs to be maintained at the NIS. And I made it very clear that I would never want anything to do with it again. The urgency of the letter sounded very absurd and unsettling to me. Beads of sweat formed over my forehead.

"Don't leave Sara. You are stronger than you think", Greg said, not missing a single chance to change my mind. I signed the papers, turning them frantically. My tear-stained cheeks were red under my dark swollen eyes. I was struggling for air. "This is the last time I am doing this," I whispered under my unsteady breath. My chest rising and falling rapidly, defying every rhythm of normal breathing. I submitted my ID card and collapsed on the floor. Before closing my eyes, I saw Greg running towards me.

"Hey, what's wrong?", Neil came up to me in the coffeehouse.