The Therapist's Obsession

A Dangerous Proposal

"That's insane," Hazel said.

She stood up from the gray sofa so quickly that her tea nearly spilled, her eyes wide and her body turned cold.

"I can't marry someone," she whispered, her voice cracking. "I have no one I trust enough for that. Who would do that? Who even does that? That's not a solution, Dr. Reeve. Have you gone nuts?" She was more stunned than ever.

Reeve did not argue. He remained seated, although his gaze followed her every movement.

"I know," he said, nodding quietly, "It was only a thought, Hazel. Forget I mentioned it."

"I will," Hazel replied furiously, clutching her bag against her chest. "I am going to forget you said that."

She pushed the door open and left almost running, as though the idea itself would follow her if she did not move fast enough.

Reeve did not stand to walk her out.

He stayed seated in his chair and watched the door close behind her, silently fixing his rimmer glasses with his thumb.

**********

At night, Hazel told the cab driver to drop her a block away from her apartment building. She did not want anyone seeing her entrance anymore.

The street was dark and slick from earlier rain. Her heels clicked against the wet pavement and her breath made small clouds in the cold air.

Click. Click. Click.

Then she heard another set of slow footsteps behind her.

Hazel's heart skipped. A chill ran down her spine.

She did not turn around. She walked faster. The footsteps behind her walked faster too, keeping the same distance.

Her throat went dry.

"Is someone there?" she asked quietly, her voice trembling.

No one answered. She clutched her bag tighter and glanced over her shoulder.

A tall figure in a black coat and cap stood ten feet behind her under a flickering streetlight. His face was hidden in shadow. He was not on his phone, he was not walking a dog. He was only watching her.

Hazel's hands started shaking.

"R-Roman?" she whispered. "Roman, is that you? Stop following me, y-you're scaring me."

The figure did not answer. He only took a step closer. Hazel took no time and started running. Her keys slipped from her wet fingers and clattered onto the pavement.

"Shit! No, no, no," she cried, crouching to grab them while glancing back wildly. The figure was closer now, walking calmly, as though he knew she could not escape.

She scrambled up and ran the last twenty feet to her building door, sobbing as she punched the entry code wrong twice.

"Come on, please, please come on," she whispered, tears streaming down her face.

Behind her, the footsteps stopped all of a sudden. She could feel him standing there, watching her.

The door finally buzzed open and she threw herself inside, slamming it shut with both hands. She pressed her back against it and looked through the glass.

The figure stood under the streetlight, looking straight up at her apartment windows for a long moment before turning and disappearing into the dark.

Hazel slid to the floor, her whole body shaking so hard she could not breathe. For the rest of the night, she sat on the sofa and held a knife in her hand, unable to sleep anymore.

In the morning, despite being sleep deprived, Hazel left the courthouse at seven. The sky was heavy and the street was empty. Rain hammered against the pavement.

She had not told anyone she would be at the courthouse. No one except Olivia.

She pulled her coat tighter and walked quickly toward the taxi stand, her knees still weak from the night before.

A white van was parked at the curb with its engine running.

She did not notice it until the side door slid open with a loud metallic screech.

A man in a black cap and black mask stepped out. She could not see his face, only his height, he was tall, broad, almost the same build as Roman.

Hazel froze in her steps.

"Hazel Brooks?" he said, his voice muffled by the mask.

"What do you want?" she asked, her voice barely audible as she took a step back. Rain soaked through her coat.

"Mr. Woods sent me to bring you home," he said calmly, as though it were a normal sentence. "He said either you would come willingly. Or we have to convince you to take you to him."

Hazel's blood ran cold. "N-No," she whispered, shaking her head violently. "No, I don't know you. Stay away from me. I-I won't go anywhere with you."

The man stepped closer and grabbed her wrist. His grip was hard and wet from the rain.

"Don't make this difficult," he said, his voice dropping. "Mr. Woods doesn't like it when you make things difficult."

"Let me go!" Hazel screamed, her voice breaking as she struggled and hit his hand with her bag. "Let me go, help!"

He grabbed her coat sleeve and yanked her hard toward the open van. She could see the empty metal floor inside, with no seats and only a rope in the corner.

Hazel screamed louder, tears mixing with rain, her feet slipping on the wet pavement as she fought.

"Someone help me! Please!"

That was when a couple turned the corner under an umbrella.

"What is happening here? Hey! What are you doing to her?" the man shouted.

The masked man let go instantly. He stared at the couple for one second, then climbed into the van and slammed the door. The van sped away, splashing dirty rainwater over Hazel's torn coat and bleeding knees.

Hazel collapsed onto the pavement, sobbing uncontrollably. She didn't wait for the night. She stayed there like a lifeless doll when the couple checked on her and left, then she collected her shattered self and stumbled toward the only place with the only choice she had left.

It was 7:00pm and she stumbled back into Reeve's office building.

She had not made an appointment. She arrived in her torn coat, her hair wet and tangled, her knees scraped and bleeding, her eyes swollen from crying.

Reeve opened the door himself. When he saw her, his calm smile cracked for the first time.

His eyes moved quickly over her torn sleeve and bleeding knees, he closed his eyes shut like he was controlling his demeanor. His hand hovered near her shoulder, as though he wanted to touch her but forced himself not to.

"Hazel," he said, his voice low and rough. "What happened?"

"H-He tried to take me," Hazel whispered, Reeve froze, looking at her whole body shaking so hard she had to hold onto the doorframe to stand. "A van, a man in a mask. He said Roman sent him to bring me home. He grabbed me, Dr. Reeve. He tried to pull me inside the van. If a couple hadn't come, he would have taken me." She completely broke down in tears.

Reeve gulped his nostrils flared and his jaw worked, but he remained silent and guided her to the gray sofa, his touch light at her elbow, but his fingers were cold.

"He followed me last night too," she cried, burying her face in her hands. "Same build, same coat. He stood under my building and watched my windows. He is obsessed with me, he is stalking me now and he can do anything to me. The police won't help, his lawyers already called them before I filed the report last time. He will never accept a breakup."

Reeve sat across from her, listening without interrupting. His face was filled with concern. His thumb pressed harder against his knuckle, as though he was holding his breath.

"You said a marriage would make him stop," Hazel whispered, looking up at him with desperate, teary eyes. "You said pursuing a married woman would destroy his reputation and his company. That his board would force him to stop."

Reeve nodded slightly, "It would," he said quietly, his gaze locked on hers.

"And you said it would have to be someone I trust completely," Hazel continued, her voice trembling so badly she could barely speak. "Someone who would never take advantage of my vulnerability."

Reeve did not move. He only watched her, his expression patient, but his knuckles had turned pale. “Did you find anyone?” Reeve asked, concern flickering his face.

Hazel nodded, forcing the words out through her tears.

"Would you…” she started, Reeve held his breath.

“Dr. Reeve would you…..marry me?”