Page 61 of Dark Therapy

The tears came then, hot and silent, spilling down my cheeks as I sat there, my hands shaking, my heart pounding with the weight of my guilt. I had been his last hope, the one person who could have saved him, and instead, I had become his undoing.

I broke down, letting the tears fall, each one a reminder of my failure, of the irrevocable damage I had done. I had lost him. And in losing him, I had lost myself.

After Claire’s visit, I spent the entire evening in a daze. Her words had crawled under my skin, burrowing into my thoughts,twisting everything I’d believed about myself, about Damien. I couldn’t escape them. I couldn’t escape the suffocatingguiltthat hung around me like a heavy shroud, pressing me down, making it harder to breathe.

But as I sat there, drowning in the echoes of Claire’s venomous threats, something arrived. It was a letter, slipped through the crack of my office door, the handwriting on the envelope unmistakable. I recognized it immediately—his. Damien’s.

My heart pounded as I tore it open, my fingers trembling, as if the letter might somehow dissolve into thin air if I hesitated too long. Inside, the familiar scrawl of his words sent a chill through me.

Don’t worry, Millie.

She won’t bother you again.

The letter was short, almostcoldin its simplicity. And yet, I felt a strange sense of relief wash over me, a relief I hadn’t expected to feel.

I held the letter in my hand, my eyes skimming over the words again and again, not because I didn’t understand them, but because I wanted to. I wanted to feel the power in them, the assurance that, no matter what I had feared, Damien still had control over the situation. That he was stillwatchingme, still holding the reins.

It was absurd, how his words—his simple, casual command—had such power over me. But I wasn’t naïve enough to think he did this out of some misplaced loyalty or affection. No, this was Damien’s way of marking territory, of reminding me that he had never left, that he would always be a part of my life. Even now, even from behind the walls of the institution, he was still in control.

And there it was again—the flicker of something that stirred inside me. Thepullthat I had never been able to shake, no matter how much time had passed.

I had tried to move on. I had tried to convince myself that I could go back to my life, to my practice, to the people who relied on me. But every time I looked at the letter, at the words he had written so effortlessly, I was reminded of everything I had tried to forget.

He was still in my head. He was still there, in the background of my thoughts, in the way I looked at every new patient, in the way my heart skipped when a man brushed against me in the street.

And now, with his words ringing in my mind, I realized I would never truly escape him. Not because of the threats, not because of the danger, but because of the way he had slipped into my soul, wrapping himself around my every thought.

I dropped the letter onto the desk, my hands shaking as I leaned back in my chair. The silence in the room seemed to grow louder, filling every inch of the space, suffocating me as I realized the truth.

Damien wasn’t just a part of my past anymore. He was a part ofme. A dark, twisted part that I could never escape.

My Dearest Millie,

I suppose it’s been a while since I’ve written to you. Not that I’ve forgotten you. No, that would be impossible. You’ve never left my mind.

I’m sure you’ve noticed, or maybe you haven’t—your world seems a bit quieter without me in it. I know you’ve been trying to move on, to pretend like I’m not still lurking in the background of your every thought, but let me remind you of something: I’m never far from you.

Funny, isn’t it? How you can keep trying to outrun something so inescapable. You know it, I know it. The truth is, you don’t want to escape me. Not really.

You probably think you’ve gotten away from me, that the walls of that little office of yours are enough to keep the memories at bay, but I see you. I feel you. You think about me more than you let on. Every time a man touches you, every time you close your eyes, you can’t help but imagine what I would do to you if I werethere. You can’t help but wonder if, in some twisted way, you still belong to me.

You do, Millie. You always will.

I won’t lie to you. I miss you. More than you could ever imagine. But I know this: You’re safe. For now.

Don’t mistake this letter for a promise of peace, or that I’m going to let you go. No, I’ll never let you go.

I’m writing not to remind you of your place, but to remind you of mine. I am always watching. Always. So don’t think for a moment that you’re alone in this.

I’m still here, Millie. In the shadows. In your thoughts. In the deepest part of you, where I know you don’t want me to be.

You’ll see me again. I promise you that.

Until then,

Damien

SWEET DREAMS