I inhaled immediately through my nose, holding it there before releasing slowly through my mouth.
“And again.”
I followed his instruction, the second breath steadier than the first. The tightness in my chest eased just enough to think clearly.
“Everything you’ve told me is perfectly normal,” he said quietly.
“Really?” I gasped before I could stop myself.
Okay, I might not have looked at those studies.
He nodded, a small, reassuring smile settling on his face.
“Research shows that curiosity and self-exploration often begin around adolescence,” he said.“And in some cases even earlier, where it functions as comfort. It doesn’t automatically point to trauma or external influence.”
“Oh,” I breathed.“This is great news.”
The word normal echoed in my head.
Oh, shit.
I was normal.
“As an adult, I masturbated eighteen times in one day,” I blurted out.“I couldn’t stop. I just wanted more.”
I wasn’t sure if I had crazy eyes or not, but I stared at him anyway, waiting—bracing—for shock or revulsion.
It never came.
He only smiled.
“I loved it,” I whispered, the admission landing heavier than the number itself.
“Good for you,” he said calmly.“Did you feel better afterwards?”
I straightened a little in my seat, surprised by the simplicity of the question.
“I did.”
These sessions might be worthwhile after all.
Chapter 5
Stella
He kicked me out of his house at exactly 8:02. Not a minute earlier. Not a minute later. The hour had flown by so quickly it left me blinking, disoriented, as though I’d stepped out of a different climate.
I didn’t know how much my parents were paying him, but he was worth every penny.
As I walked down the steps and onto the pavement, a cascade of questions tumbled through my head, tripping over one another. Why had I let everything—and everyone—bury me? Why hadn’t I done my own research into developmental stages instead of swallowing guilt wholesale? Why had I believed literal strangers on the internet over my own lived experience?
Well. Them, friends, and family.
The cool evening air brushed against my face, crisp and clean, and I inhaled deeply, filling my lungs without thinking twice about it. My shoulders felt lighter. My chest too. Even my stride had changed—longer, looser, less apologetic.
The soft fabric of my trousers brushed between my legs as I walked.
And for once, I didn’t give a damn.
