Chapter 5 5

The moment passed as quickly as it came, and Theo straightened, the guarded expression returning like a well-worn mask.

"So," he said, shifting the subject slightly, "what's next? More digging into my personal history? Or are we going to dive into my psyche and uncover some deep, dark secrets?"

Nora smiled faintly at his sarcasm. "A little of both, maybe. But we'll go at your pace. Therapy isn't about forcing anything-it's about exploring what you're ready to confront."

He raised an eyebrow. "And what if I'm not ready to confront any of it?"

"Then we talk about something else," she replied easily, leaning back in her chair. "There's no right or wrong way to do this, Theo. The only thing that matters is that you're honest-with me and with yourself."

He didn't respond right away, his gaze drifting back to the window. The ocean stretched endlessly before them, wild and untamed, a stark contrast to the controlled environment of his home.

"I don't like being vulnerable," he said finally, his voice low.

"I noticed," Nora said gently, her tone carrying a hint of teasing.

That earned her a small huff of amusement. "Is that your professional opinion?"

"It's my human opinion," she said with a soft smile. "But vulnerability isn't a weakness, Theo. It's a strength. It means you're human, and that's not something to be ashamed of."

His jaw clenched, but he didn't argue. Instead, he stood abruptly, pacing to the window and staring out at the waves.

"You make it sound so simple," he said, his back to her.

"It's not," she admitted. "It's messy and uncomfortable, and sometimes it feels like it's not worth the effort. But it is. Healing doesn't mean forgetting what you've been through; it means learning how to live with it without letting it define you."

He turned to face her, his expression unreadable. "And you really think you can help me do that?"

"I think we can do that," she corrected. "But only if you're willing to try."

Theo studied her for a long moment, as if weighing her words, testing their sincerity. Finally, he nodded, a reluctant but genuine acknowledgment.

"All right," he said. "Where do we start?"

Over the next hour, Nora guided Theo through a series of grounding exercises-simple techniques designed to help him manage the anxiety and intrusive memories that often crept in uninvited. He resisted at first, his skepticism evident, but as they worked through each exercise, she noticed a subtle shift in his demeanor.

By the time their session ended, he seemed calmer, if not entirely convinced.

"Homework," Nora said as she packed up her notes.

Theo raised an eyebrow. "Homework?"

"Relax," she said with a laugh. "It's not an essay. I want you to practice one of the exercises we went over today. Just five minutes a day, whenever you feel the tension building."

He looked dubious. "And this is supposed to help?"

"It won't fix everything overnight," she said. "But it's a start. Small steps, Theo."

He gave a noncommittal grunt, but she caught the faintest glimmer of curiosity in his eyes.

As she stood to leave, he walked her to the door, his hands shoved into his pockets.

"Same time tomorrow?" she asked, pausing in the doorway.

He nodded. "Yeah. Same time."

"Good," she said, offering him a small smile. "And Theo? Try to go easy on yourself. You're doing better than you think."

He didn't respond, but the look in his eyes was softer than it had been before.

As she stepped outside, the crisp ocean breeze greeted her, and she allowed herself a moment to reflect. It wasn't much, but today had been progress-a step forward, however small.

And for a man like Theo Lancaster, that was no small feat.

Theo stood in the doorway long after Nora had left, watching as her car disappeared down the long, winding driveway. A part of him wanted to retreat into his usual routine, to bury himself in work or pour himself another glass of whiskey. But the other part-the part she'd somehow managed to awaken-lingered on her parting words: You're doing better than you think.

He hated how much those words unsettled him. For years, he'd built his life around the idea that he wasn't doing enough, that he wasn't enough. It was what had driven him to succeed, to build his empire, to become the man the world admired and envied. But beneath it all, he'd always known it was a façade.

And now, there was someone who could see through it.

The next morning, Nora parked her car in front of Theo's estate, steeling herself for what she hoped would be another productive session. She'd reviewed her notes from the day before, mentally preparing for the delicate balance of pushing Theo just enough without overwhelming him.

As she approached the front door, it opened before she could knock, revealing Theo standing there, a cup of coffee in hand.

"You're early," he said, stepping aside to let her in.

"So are you," she countered, noting the faint surprise in his expression.

He shrugged, leading her to the study where they'd worked the day before. The room was just as she'd left it-pristine and impersonal, though she noticed a stack of books on the coffee table that hadn't been there before.

"Light reading?" she asked, gesturing to the titles.

Theo smirked faintly. "Just something to pass the time."

Nora scanned the spines-classics, biographies, and a few titles on psychology that surprised her.

"Doing some homework of your own?" she teased, taking a seat.

"Let's not make a habit of calling it that," he said dryly, though there was a glimmer of humor in his eyes.

She smiled, pulling out her notebook. "Fair enough. How did the grounding exercises go?"

He hesitated, his gaze dropping to the coffee table. "I tried them," he said finally. "A few times."

"And?"

"They were...less useless than I thought they'd be," he admitted grudgingly.

"That's high praise coming from you," she said, her tone light.

He huffed a small laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing just slightly.

"Good," she continued. "We'll keep building on that. But today, I want to talk more about something you mentioned yesterday-your father."

Theo's expression darkened instantly, the humor vanishing from his face.

"Is that really necessary?" he asked, his voice tight.

"I think it is," Nora said gently. "But only if you're ready."

He leaned back in his chair, his jaw clenching. For a long moment, he didn't speak, the silence stretching between them. But then he exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair.

"What do you want to know?"

"Whatever you're willing to share," she said. "Start wherever feels most comfortable."

Theo's lips twisted into a bitter smile. "Comfortable isn't exactly the word I'd use."

"Fair enough," she said, meeting his gaze steadily. "But you're in control here, Theo. This is your story to tell."

He was silent for another moment, his gaze fixed on a distant point beyond the window.

"My father," he began slowly, "wasn't a bad man. At least, not in the traditional sense. He wasn't abusive, not physically. But he was...hard. Cold. He believed in discipline and perfection. Anything less was unacceptable."

Nora nodded, letting him set the pace.

"He wasn't the kind of man who gave praise or affection. He believed those things made you weak. If I wanted his approval, I had to earn it. And even then, it was...rare."

He paused, his fingers tapping absently against the armrest.

"I spent my whole childhood trying to be what he wanted. The perfect son, the perfect student, the perfect heir. But no matter what I did, it was never enough."

Nora's chest tightened at the raw pain in his voice. "That must have been incredibly lonely," she said softly.

Theo's jaw tightened, and he nodded. "It was. But I told myself it didn't matter. I told myself I didn't need his approval, that I could succeed on my own terms. And for a while, I believed it."

"And now?"

He looked at her, his expression inscrutable. "Now, I'm not so sure."

Nora leaned forward slightly, her tone gentle but firm. "Theo, the way your father treated you shaped the way you see yourself and the world, but it doesn't define you. You've spent your whole life trying to prove your worth to someone who couldn't see it. But your worth isn't something you have to prove-it's something you already have."

Theo's gaze dropped to his hands, his fingers tightening into fists. "It's hard to believe that," he said quietly.

"I know," she said. "But that's why we're here. To help you see it for yourself."

For a moment, he didn't respond, the weight of her words hanging between them. But then he nodded, a small, almost imperceptible movement.

"Okay," he said. "Let's keep going."

And for the first time, Nora felt a flicker of hope-not just for Theo, but for the man he could become if he let himself heal.