Page 32 of Her Ohio Old Flame

He nodded as he deliberated her reply, his gaze thoughtful. “Then talk to your girlfriends.”

Asha let out a humorless laugh, brushing her hand against the edge of the counter. “I don’t exactly have a lot of friends here, Dad. Not anymore.”

“I’m sure Gina would like to talk with you,” he offered.

Gina. The image of her friend’s straightforward green eyes and no-nonsense demeanor flashed in her mind, followed by Maddy’s soft, round face and the warmth she carried like a shield. Maddy was a doctor. Doctors had patient confidentiality. The thought sparked something—a flicker of hope in her mental chaos.

“You’re right, Dad,” she said, her resolve growing. “I need to talk to someone, and I just thought of the perfect person to do so.”

Her dad’s lips curved into a small smile. “Good. I’m glad to hear that.”

Asha reached out to briefly squeeze his hand. “Thanks for pushing me on this.”

“Anytime, kiddo.” He patted her hand before stepping back, giving her the space she needed.

Asha stared out of the window, allowing her gaze to drift over the small garden outside. The sunlight was softer now, casting long shadows over the neatly trimmed grass. She swallowedhard, her throat tight with the weight of their conversation. The air inside felt stifling, too heavy.

She clenched her hand around her cell phone.Just call. Stop overthinking it.

Before she could change her mind, she swiped through her contacts and tapped on Maddy Quinn-Santana’s name. The phone rang twice before someone with a warm, familiar voice answered.

“Asha! It’s so good to hear from you. How are you?”

Asha hesitated, curling her fingers against the edge of the counter. “Hi, Maddy. I’m... I’m okay. Actually, I was wondering if I could come by your office. I need to talk.”

After a slight pause on the other end, Maddy spoke softly. “Of course. Are you able to see me in half an hour?”

“Yes.” Relief washed over Asha. “Thank you, Maddy. I appreciate it.”

“Don’t mention it. I’ll see you in about thirty minutes?”

“Perfect,” Asha replied.

Once she’d ended the call, she slipped her phone into her pocket and stepped outside.

The doctor’s office was quiet, the soft hum of a ceiling fan blending with the faint rustle of papers at the front desk. Maddy greeted her with a warm smile and gestured for Asha to follow her into a private room, the familiar scent of antiseptic and lavender calming yet disconcerting.

Asha sank into the chair across from Maddy’s desk, resting her hands awkwardly in her lap. The room felt both safe and suffocating, the weight of what she was about to say pressing down on her chest.

“So,” Maddy began gently as she leaned forward with an open, inviting expression on her sweet face. “What’s on your mind?”

“I’m here as a patient. That means what we discuss stays between us, right?”

Maddy frowned before nodding. “That’s correct.”

Asha hesitated, twisting her fingers together. She stared at the edge of the desk, the grain of the wood blurring as her vision swam. “It’s... hard to talk about,” she admitted shakily.

Maddy nodded. “Take your time.” The doctor leaned her forearms on the desk, her dark brown eyes warm and steady as she listened. Her black hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail, the simple style highlighting her smooth skin—a few shades lighter than Asha’s. There was a natural grace in her posture, a quiet strength that made Asha feel both safe and seen.

Drawing in a shaky breath, Asha forced herself to meet Maddy’s gaze. “It’s about someone I trusted. Back in high school.”

Maddy’s forehead wrinkled, and concern was etched into her features. “Oh-kaayyy.”

Asha made fists, her nails biting into her palms. “He was a teacher. I thought... I thought he was my friend. Someone I could confide in, someone who cared.” Her voice wavered, the words scraping against her throat like shards of glass.

Maddy remained silent, her expression steady and supportive.

“It started small,” Asha continued, her voice trembling. “Compliments, little things that seemed harmless at first. I didn’t think anything of it. He made me feel seen, like I mattered. But then... it changed. He started getting... possessive. Calling me special, saying things that didn’t feel right, but I was too naive to understand.”

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