Connor’s POV
Two months later
I lean back into the couch as the Hispanic woman across from me, Johanna Perez, smiles warmly. I’ve been seeing her for the last six weeks after just not gelling well with the first two therapists I found. Once I walked into her small, organised office, I felt a sense of peace, and I just knew I was where I needed to be.
The first session I barely said a word, everything still so jumbled up in my own head that I couldn’t begin to articulate what I wanted to say. Johanna was patient with me though, not trying to force out my issues like the one before her, instead she took the time to let me open up at my own pace, until I finally found my voice, and once the floodgates opened, it was as though I needed to be purged.
She helped me navigate my grief, showin
