Doctor-Patient Confidentiality: Chapter One Hundred and Forty-Seven

Safe.

Word.

Two words.

They fall on my ears like anvils, wringing my eyes back to his. I have none as air catches in my throat. The word ‘safe’ swings like a knife, slicing through my brain and the silence. I can’t think, can’t move, can’t breathe. All I can do is stare at him, willing my limbs to work, my lungs to fill with air. 

The entire world narrows to just him; this blue-eyed demon watching me, cataloguing my every movement—or lack thereof—and my heart pitter-patters as I regard his neutral yet intense expression, relaxed but alert.

Safe.

Yeah…right.