Chapter 4 4

The door clicked shut behind Nora, but her presence lingered in the air, unsettling Theo in a way he couldn't shake. He turned back to the window, staring out at the restless ocean. The waves mirrored the turmoil in his chest, and for the first time in years, he didn't brush it aside.

Her words played on a loop in his mind: You've built walls so high, you don't even realize you're trapped behind them.

Trapped.

He hated how accurate she was. Hated that in just one session, she'd seen through the polished armor he wore in public, cutting straight to the broken man beneath. And yet, he didn't feel anger toward her-just unease.

He grabbed his phone from the coffee table, scrolling aimlessly through emails, looking for something-anything-to distract him. But his gaze kept drifting back to the spot where she'd sat, the faint scent of her subtle perfume still clinging to the room.

This was going to be harder than he thought.

Nora stepped into the elevator, her fingers gripping the strap of her bag as the doors slid shut. She leaned against the wall, exhaling deeply.

Theo Lancaster was...intense. She'd worked with difficult clients before-stubborn CEOs, hardened soldiers, people whose trauma had turned them into fortresses-but there was something different about Theo.

He wasn't just guarded; he was calculated, like every word and movement was carefully chosen to keep people at arm's length. And yet, there were cracks in his façade-small, fleeting moments when the pain he worked so hard to hide slipped through.

The challenge of helping him intrigued her more than it should have.

By the time the elevator reached the lobby, Nora had mentally filed away their session, resolving to focus on her next client. She stepped out into the warm California sun, her heels clicking against the marble floor as she crossed the parking lot to her car.

But as she slid into the driver's seat and turned the key, her mind wandered back to Theo.

There was something about him-something beyond the wealth and the walls he'd built around himself. He wasn't just a man dealing with grief; he was someone who'd been shattered by it, someone who didn't believe he deserved to heal.

And she couldn't help but wonder: what had made him agree to therapy in the first place?

Theo stood in his kitchen, a glass of whiskey in hand. The amber liquid caught the light as he swirled it absently, his mind far from the present.

Victoria. Her name was like poison in his veins. He hadn't spoken about her in years, and now her memory felt fresh and raw, like an old wound torn open.

He tipped the glass back, the burn of the alcohol doing little to dull the ache. He hated how easily Nora had pulled it out of him, hated how much he'd revealed in such a short time.

The door to the kitchen swung open, and his assistant, Lucas, stepped inside.

"Long day?" Lucas asked, eyeing the glass in Theo's hand.

Theo shot him a look. "What do you think?"

Lucas smirked. "I'd guess your therapist didn't exactly go easy on you."

"She's...persistent," Theo admitted grudgingly.

"That's probably a good thing."

Theo leaned against the counter, the glass dangling from his fingers. "She thinks she can help me."

"Maybe she can," Lucas said, crossing his arms.

Theo snorted. "You're more optimistic than I am."

Lucas studied him for a moment. "You wouldn't have agreed to therapy if you didn't think it could help, even a little. You don't do anything without a reason, Theo."

Theo didn't respond, but Lucas's words struck a chord.

"Look," Lucas continued, his tone softening, "no one expects you to fix everything overnight. Just...give it a chance. What's the worst that could happen?"

Theo stared into his glass, the swirling liquid a poor substitute for the answers he sought.

"I lose more than I already have," he muttered.

Lucas frowned but didn't press further. "Well, if you need anything, you know where to find me."

As Lucas left the room, Theo's grip tightened around the glass. The truth was, he wasn't afraid of failing therapy. He was afraid of what would happen if it worked-if the walls he'd spent years building came crashing down, leaving him exposed and vulnerable.

Because deep down, he wasn't sure he knew how to live without them.

The next morning, Nora arrived at Theo's estate, her nerves steady but her curiosity heightened. She had spent the night replaying their session, going over his words and his body language, trying to piece together the puzzle that was Theo Lancaster.

The butler opened

the door before she could knock, his expression as composed as ever.

"Good morning, Dr. Bennett," the butler greeted. "Mr. Lancaster is expecting you."

Nora nodded, stepping into the expansive foyer. The air inside was cool and still, the faint scent of cedarwood and citrus lingering-a fragrance that seemed to suit Theo's meticulous nature.

She followed the butler down the hall, her heels clicking softly against the polished marble floors. As they approached the study, she steeled herself. Yesterday had been a small breakthrough, but she knew better than to expect the same level of openness today. Progress in therapy was rarely linear, especially with someone like Theo.

The butler opened the door, and she stepped inside to find Theo seated on one of the leather armchairs near the window. He was dressed casually today-dark jeans and a fitted gray sweater that hinted at his athletic build. His gaze was fixed on the ocean, but as she entered, he turned, his expression unreadable.

"Punctual as always," he said, setting down the book he'd been holding.

"Of course," Nora replied, settling into the armchair across from him. "How are you feeling today?"

"Let's skip the pleasantries," he said, leaning back in his chair. "I've been thinking about our conversation yesterday."

Nora raised an eyebrow, surprised. "And?"

"And I've decided you're either very brave or very foolish for trying to get inside my head," he said, a faint smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Maybe a little of both," she quipped, matching his energy. "But you're here, which means part of you is willing to let me try."

Theo tilted his head, studying her. "You're persistent, I'll give you that."

"It's part of the job," she said lightly, pulling out her notebook. "Now, since you brought up yesterday's conversation, let's dig into that a bit more. You mentioned Victoria. How long were you two together?"

Theo's smirk faded, replaced by a tightness in his jaw. "Five years. We met when I was twenty-eight."

"And what was the relationship like in the beginning?"

He hesitated, his fingers drumming lightly against the armrest. "It was good, I guess. She was charming, confident. She had this way of making you feel like you were the center of the universe."

Nora nodded, her pen gliding across the page. "But?"

Theo let out a bitter laugh. "But it was all an act. She knew exactly what to say, how to act, to get what she wanted. And I was too blind-or maybe too desperate-to see it."

"Desperate?" Nora repeated, her tone gentle.

He glanced at her, his blue eyes colder now. "I'd just inherited Lancaster Industries. My father had passed, the board was breathing down my neck, and I was...lost. Victoria came in like a lifeline, and I clung to her."

"And when did you realize she wasn't who she appeared to be?"

Theo leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "After the plane crash. I was in a dark place-physically, mentally-and instead of helping me heal, she used it as leverage. She pushed me to make public appearances, to keep up the façade of the untouchable billionaire. She didn't care about what I needed. She cared about the image."

Nora's chest tightened at the vulnerability in his voice, but she kept her tone steady. "That must've been incredibly isolating."

"It was," he admitted, his voice quieter now. "And by the time I realized it, it was too late. She had her claws in everything-my life, my business. Ending it wasn't just a breakup. It was a battle."

Nora leaned back in her chair, giving him a moment to breathe. "You said something yesterday that stuck with me-that connections always end in disappointment. Do you think that belief started with Victoria, or does it go further back?"

Theo's gaze darkened, and for a moment, she thought he might shut down entirely. But then he spoke, his voice laced with something raw and unguarded.

"It goes back," he said. "Way back."

"To your father?"

He nodded, his jaw tightening. "My father was a hard man. He didn't believe in weakness or second chances. Love, to him, was conditional-something you earned by meeting his impossible expectations. And when you failed..."

He trailed off, the weight of unspoken memories filling the room.

"When you failed, what?" Nora prompted softly.

Theo's lips pressed into a thin line. "You became invisible."

The words hung between them, heavy and heartbreaking.

Nora leaned forward, her gaze steady. "Theo, the way your father treated you and the way Victoria manipulated you-they weren't your fault. But they shaped how you see the world, how you see yourself. If we're going to make progress, we need to challenge those beliefs. Are you ready for that?"

Theo looked at her, and for a moment, she saw the boy he must have been-the one who'd grown up craving approval and finding only rejection.

"I don't know," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I'm here, aren't I?"

"Yes, you are," she said, her tone warm but firm. "And that's a start."

For the first time, Theo allowed himself a small, genuine smile. It was fleeting, but it was there-a glimmer of hope in the midst of the storm.

And for Nora, that was enough.