Chapter 116 Gardenia

• The session starts off pretty normal. I knock on Dr Ambrose's door at precisely the right time, not giving away the fact that I was ten minutes early and lingering in the hall. His office is sparse and silent when I enter, the man himself already in the hard-looking chair opposite the couch–he stopped fighting that particular battle early on.
• He must have sensed even then that I'd insist on the couch every week, because firstly, it's part of the therapy vibe, and secondly, I need an interrupted view of his whole body. Dr Ambrose is wasted tucked away behind a desk. He should be free, unencumbered, wandering around campus in his shirtsleeves for all the world to see.
• Or folded across from me into that horrible chair. Either way, I don't want a stupid desk blocking my view.