LOGINJanet's Point of ViewPeter was still standing in the doorway, his expression skeptical."I need to retrieve some files from the clinic," I said, my voice carefully steady. "Work files. I promised to organize them tonight."It was a lie. A smooth, practiced lie. But necessary.Peter's eyes narrowed slightly. He didn't believe me. I could see it in the way his jaw tightened. The way his shoulders tensed."Files," he repeated, and there was doubt heavy in that single word."Yes," I said, meeting his gaze without flinching. "I'll be back soon. I promise."He studied my face for a long moment. Searching for the truth. Searching for a reason to stop me.Then he stepped aside."Be careful," he said quietly. "And Janet? Whatever it is you're really doing... be smart about it."I nodded without responding and left before he could change his mind.The restaurant was exactly as beautiful as I remembered. Soft lighting. Elegant decor. The kind of place that whispered money and sophistication.Bu
Janet's Point of ViewThe days that followed were suffocating.I arrived at the clinic each morning with dread settling heavy in my chest. Every time a new patient was assigned, I watched them get taken away from me. Watched them get handed to other psychiatrists. Watched my caseload shrink until there was almost nothing left.My hands would clench beneath my desk. My jaw would tighten. My entire body would carry the weight of the injustice.By the fourth day, I couldn't take it anymore.I went directly to Elena's office."This isn't fair," I said, my voice shaking with barely controlled rage. "You're systematically removing every patient I have. You're cutting me off from doing my job."Elena looked up from her paperwork with an expression that suggested she had been expecting this conversation."You're distracted," she said calmly. "Your personal issues are affecting your work.""That's not true," I said, my voice rising. "I'm being treated unfairly and you know it. This isn't about
Janet's Point of ViewIt was late. Nearly midnight. But I couldn't sleep knowing that my patient—the teenage girl who had tried to take her own life—was struggling without proper support.Three weeks of intense therapy. Three weeks of building trust. Three weeks of real progress.And I was supposed to just walk away because of some bureaucratic reassignment?No.I got dressed quickly, my movements purposeful despite the exhaustion weighing on me. I grabbed my keys and headed downstairs.My mother was sitting in the living room, her expression tired."Where are you going?" she asked as I passed."I have to take care of something," I said, not stopping. "I'll be back in no time."I didn't wait for her response. Just headed out into the night and called for a taxi.The ride felt long. My mind was spinning with worry about my patient. About what could have happened to trigger another crisis. About whether I could still help her despite the circumstances.When I arrived at the address, I k
Janet's Point of ViewI walked into the clinic that morning, and I could feel it immediately.The stares.Eyes turning toward me like I was some kind of spectacle. Whispers that stopped the moment I glanced up. The kind of atmosphere that suggested everyone had already made up their minds about me.I kept my head down and moved directly toward my office. I wasn't going to acknowledge them. Wasn't going to give them the satisfaction of seeing that their judgment bothered me.My teenage patient was scheduled for today. The girl I had been working with. The one who had tried to take her own life. We had been building rapport. Making real progress.I sat at my desk and waited.An hour passed.Then another.My appointment time came and went, and my patient didn't arrive.Confusion mixed with concern flooded through me.I picked up the phone and called reception."Is my patient here?" I asked. "The teenage girl scheduled for ten o'clock?""Yes," the receptionist said. "She arrived about an
Rowan's Point of ViewI was in the middle of reviewing contracts when my secretary knocked on the door."Your mother is here to see you," she said apologetically, like she understood this was an intrusion.I set down my pen slowly. My jaw clenched."Send her in," I said, trying to keep the irritation out of my voice.My mother appeared in the doorway, her expression filled with concern that felt suffocating even from a distance. She moved toward me like I was fragile. Like I might break at any moment."What's going on?" she asked, sitting down across from my desk without waiting for an invitation. "You look terrible. Are you eating? Are you sleeping?"I felt something twist inside me. Irritation mixed with exhaustion."I'm fine," I said flatly. "There's no need for you to come check on me at work. I'm not a baby anymore, Mother.""You'll always be my baby," she said, her voice carrying that weight that mothers have when they're certain they know what's best for their children.She lea
Janet's Point of ViewThe therapy session had been emotionally exhausting. A patient with deep-seated trauma. Years of pain that needed careful unpacking. I had given everything I had to that hour, and now I was running on empty.I sat at my desk in the mini psychiatric clinic, staring at my phone.My hands were shaking slightly as I picked it up.I didn't want to do this. Didn't want to call him. Didn't want to beg him to come back. But for my mother's sake. For her recovery. For her fragile heart.I had to.I dialed his number slowly, deliberately, each digit feeling like a small surrender.It rang once. Twice. Three times.Then voicemail."Rowan, it's me," I said, my voice steady despite the trembling in my chest. "I need you to call me back. Please. It's important. It's about my mother. She's... she needs you to come home."I ended the call and set the phone down on my desk.That's when the door opened.Edward stepped through, and immediately I could feel the shift in the room. Th
Janet’s Pov“What the hell is happening here?”Rowan’s voice cut through the air like a blade. It was sharp, cold, and filled with something unreadable. My heart clenched, but I refused to look weak.“So, you’re back, huh? Finally taking a break from playing knight in shining armor for your best fr
Janet’s PovI gripped my bag tightly as I walked out of Rowan’s penthouse, my heart hammering against my chest. My Ankle was still paining me, but my heart hurt more , but I didn’t stop. The cold night air hit my skin, but it did nothing to cool the fire burning inside me.I raised a trembling hand
Janet’s Point of ViewI hung up the call and sat up on the bed, my fingers tight around the phone. My chest felt heavy, my heart tightened more. Rowan really thought low of me.He still believed the only thing I ever cared about was him. His shirt. His tie. What he wore. How he looked.I laughed so
ROWAN’S POINT OF VIEW Martha’s hands twisting nervously in front of her. She looked uneasy, her head lowered. “Sir,” she said softly. “Mrs. Janet… she hung up on me. She refused to come,” Martha continued, her voice barely above a whisper. I barely spared her a glance. As if I hadn’t heard it mys







