Page 162 of Soulmateless
Amias.
He collapses on the ground and his eyes roll back. He looks nearly dead as people around me hold up signs and clap over this sickly ceremony.
My heart drops to my stomach.
No. Shit. He's going to get cleansed.
He's going to forget everything. He won't love me anymore. He won't care. He'll… he'll…
No. No! This shit isn't right! He doesn't-
I sniffle and fall on my knees. No. This isn't how things are supposed to go. Is this another prophecy? Why does Godusa have to tell me?
The last person who's ever loved me is going to be stripped away from me, and I don't know if there's anything I can do about it.
Chapter 57
Amias
"So… You believe she's innocent?" Dr. Willow asks as he sits in the cream-colored couch across from mine. His back up straight, looking at me with gray eyes behind small square glasses.
I explained everything I could about my relationship with Ignatia with this therapist, from the beginning to the end. Maybe it was the calming aroma of lavender or the beautiful paintings of mountains and flowers on the walls or maybe even the comfort of the soft couch that inspired me. Whatever it was, I pushed myself to speak once again. “Yes. She's innocent."
"So you don't believe anything was done without your consent?" he says, writing down notes on his notepad.
"I consented to everything."
"Of course you would think that. I understand."
My teeth clench, the spark of hope within me ceasing. He's not listening. His eyes stick to the paper, concreting on the writing more than me.
I take in a sharp breath. "She's not a monster like everyone says she is. I actually love her. She didn't play me into some stupid trick."
"Yes, of course." He glances up with a nod. “Of course you loved her a lot."
I squint. That seemed more like a sly comment than anything. “You don't believe me, do you?"
"Of course I believe you." He smiles, but it's lost its genuineness. "You really do love her a lot, and she doesn't seem like a monster to you. Those feelings are completely valid."
I want to fight back against that wording, but instead my foot taps in annoyance. Fuck him. I was a fool to think he’d actually listen.
Dr. Willow continues. “So, your mother said you were really attached to the idea of having a soulmate.”
I don't reply. It's not like it will help me or anyone to speak. They won't listen.
"Would you say that's true?" he prods.
I stare at my tapping foot and bite my lip.
"Do you feel uncomfortable?"
I wrinkle up my nose, and stand up. "Let's just end the meeting…" I march out the door and slam it behind me without hesitation.
I don't need a therapist. I just needsomeoneto listen.
I storm into the waiting room, where my parents wait on pale purple couches under a butterfly painting. Their heads lift before I shake my head at them.
"Dove?" Mother calls me. I don't reply and walk into the hallway.
