Chapter 3

3.

Veronica brought a psychiatrist home that very afternoon.

After introducing the doctor to me, she left for work.

The doctor conducted a series of assessments, his expression growing increasingly grave.

"Mr. Clarke, your condition has been neglected for years. It is quite severe."

"You are suffering not only from claustrophobia, but also from moderate anxiety disorder."

I paused for a second upon hearing the diagnosis, then nodded calmly.

"Thank you, Doctor. I will follow your plan."

Shortly after we settled on a treatment schedule, Veronica returned home.

She looked at me with a hint of tension in her eyes.

"The doctor said you have an anxiety disorder. What is going on?"

Ever since she brought Bryce into our lives, I frequently suffered from insomnia, spiraling into overthinking and self-blame.

The diagnosis was hardly a surprise to me.

I didn't want to explain any of this to Veronica, so I simply muttered that I didn't know.

Before she could press further, Bryce called her name from down the hall.

She told me to cooperate with the therapy and immediately turned away.

I let out a breath of relief and went back to the guest room.

Over the next few days, the therapist visited daily to conduct my sessions.

The results, however, remained lackluster.

The therapist repeatedly told me to relax and let go of the pressure.

Yet whenever I realized Veronica was under the same roof, my heart still raced uncontrollably.

The therapist naturally reported my progress to Veronica.

The way she looked at me grew colder and more impatient by the day.

At the end of the first week, Veronica stormed toward me with a dark scowl.

"Landon, you were the one who asked for a therapist, and now you refuse to cooperate. What the hell do you want from me?"

I looked at her blankly and opened my mouth.

"Veronica, let's get a div―"

"Ah! Veronica, help!"

Before I could finish my sentence, Bryce's cry echoed from the kitchen.

Veronica didn't even glance back at me as she rushed over to him.

I let out a quiet sigh.

Seeing Bryce's lightly scratched finger, Veronica panicked and scrambled to find the first-aid kit.

Watching this scene, my mind involuntarily drifted back to last month.

I had slipped and fallen down the stairs, twisting my ankle badly.

I called out for Thomas for nearly an hour, but no one answered.

In desperation, I called Veronica over ten times before she finally picked up.

After hearing what happened, she merely let out an irritated laugh.

"Thomas just ran an errand. Just lie there and wait. It's not like you're dying."

Then she hung up on me.

I lay on the cold hardwood floor until evening before Thomas returned.

When the family doctor arrived, he dismissed it as a minor sprain and said there was nothing to worry about.

In this house, nobody gave a damn about me.

Just as I shut the guest bedroom door, my phone buzzed with an email from my lawyer containing the finalized divorce agreement.

As I put on my jacket to head out, Veronica called out to ask where I was going.

My hands paused as I zipped my coat.

"To visit my mother's grave."

Veronica's expression softened slightly, and she murmured.

"Drive safe."

My mother had suffered from heart disease for years.

When she found out I had been kidnapped years ago, the shock triggered a massive heart attack.

She passed away before the paramedics could save her.

At my mother's funeral, Veronica had held me, crying as she swore an oath.

"Landon, from now on, I am your family."

I had forgotten that promises are only meaningful at the exact moment they are spoken.

I sat before my mother's headstone and talked to her for a long time.

Before leaving, I whispered softly.

"Mom, I'm getting a divorce from Veronica."

"Don't worry about me. I will live a good life from now on."