And there it was.
Out in the open.
My hideous secret, placed neatly on the breakfast table between the toast rack and the egg cups.
Everything I’d read about never quite fit my situation. I wasn’t traumatised. I hadn’t been sexually abused. I wasn’t lashing out or seeking attention. I simply had a naturally high libido that wasn’t acceptable for society because I didn’t have a cock.
“Fine. Whatever,” I muttered, reaching for the raspberry conserve as though this were just another instruction about curfews or portion sizes.
After breakfast, I’d have a long shower.
Fuck him and her.
No one could fix me.
???
Three times a week was excessive, wasn’t it?
But here I was.
I stared at the grand house before glancing down at my phone to double-check the address. It didn’t look like an office. The entire street was residential, lined with immaculate façades and perfectly trimmed hedges.
Maddox Lexington
46 Addison Rose Avenue
Damn.
How much did psychiatrists get paid? These houses were anywhere between eight and twelve million pounds. Prime London property.
I supposed it made sense. My parents were affluent. They would have selected someone suitably impressive.
I tapped my finger against the side of my phone, considering how I might get out of these sessions. I could be honest with him, watch him flounder, then say he made me feel uncomfortable. That would be the final nail. Request a female psychiatrist and it would be bye-bye, Mad Maddox.
I chuckled under my breath as I climbed the steps.
Apparently, he’d been at the party, but I couldn’t recall who he was. They all started to look the same after a certain age—polished, confident, and boring.
I pressed the brass doorbell.
Posh.
The lock disengaged, and I forced my mouth into a polite smile.
My smile faltered immediately.
The man standing there had to be in his sixties.
“Miss Byron?” he asked.
I nodded.
There was absolutely no way I could speak freely in front of someone who looked like a grandfather. I’d probably give him a heart attack, and then I’d need another psychiatrist to deal with the guilt of killing the first one.
“If you’ll follow me to the study, Dr Lexington will be with you shortly,” he said, opening the door fully.
Thank God.
