Chapter 3

3.

When I stepped out, Corinne was already waiting by the door.

She wore a sleek black leather jacket paired with sharp, smokey makeup, looking effortless and stunning.

No one looking at her would ever guess she was a top clinical psychotherapist.

Three years ago, I came to her clinic as a broken patient.

Unlike other therapists who droned on with clinical theories, she took me out to loud clubs, karaoke lounges, and dive bars.

One night, pleasantly tipsy, she wrapped her arms around my neck and whispered, "You have to walk through your own darkness before you can greet the light."

I never believed in love at first sight until that very moment.

I fell hard for her, booking appointments exclusively on her schedule.

She treated me with extraordinary care, even coming in on her days off just to sit with me.

When my friends found out, they warned me sternly.

"Haven't you heard the rumors about Corinne Hayes?"

"She's a heartless player who treats men like toys. She's gone through more guys than you can count on both hands."

"You get involved with her, and she'll toss you aside in a heartbeat."

I refused to believe them.

To me, Corinne was nothing like the wild player they described.

Sure, she loved the nightlife and partying with her wealthy crowd.

Yet no matter how late it was, she always replied to my texts, and she always brought home-cooked meals whenever we met.

"Let's hit the road," Corinne's voice pulled me back to reality. "It's a two-hour drive, just in time for our dinner reservation."

I nodded numbly, habitually letting her take my hand.

She slid into the driver's seat. She always drove whenever we went out.

Her notes mentioned that Silas never had a driver's license, so she drove him everywhere.

She wrote that she loved having him in the passenger seat because it made her feel completely in control of him.

Now, she held that same tight leash around my neck.