Pathological dependence のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 1 - チャプター 10

Emily was already at their usual table in the corner of the campus café, two steaming mugs of coffee waiting. She pushed one towards him as he slid into the seat. Her sharp eyes scanned his face, missing nothing.“You look like hell, Leo,” she said, no sugar-coating. That was Emily. A grad student in psychology herself, she was too smart and too direct for pleasantries. It was why he liked her, and why he was terrified of her.“Thanks,” he mumbled, wrapping his hands around the warm mug. The heat felt good. Real. “Just… didn’t sleep much.”“Yeah, I got that from the text.” She took a sip of her coffee. “What happened in Weston’s class? You shot out of there like a bat out of hell. And that question…” She lowered her voice. “That was… bold.”Leonard’s stomach clenched. He focused on a crack in the table. She knows. She knows how messed up I am. “It was stupid,” he muttered. “I don’t know what I was thinking.”“It wasn’t stupid,” Emily countered. “It was relevant. But, Leo… are you okay

The walk back to his dorm felt different. The evening air wasn’t just cold; it felt clean. The streetlights weren’t just bright; they cast warm, hopeful pools on the pavement. For the first time in years, the heavy blanket of despair had lifted slightly, allowing a sliver of light to touch him. He felt… lighter. The crushing weight on his chest had eased, just a little.He replayed the session in his head. Paul’s calm voice. The understanding in his eyes. “It’s a treatable condition.” The words were a mantra, a shield against the familiar voice of shame that usually hissed in his ear. He didn’t think I was disgusting. He thought I was hurt.Emily was in their shared living space, working on her laptop. She looked up as he entered. “Hey. You look… better.” Her tone was cautious, observational.Leonard managed a small, genuine smile. “I feel better. Just… went for a walk. Cleared my head.” The lie came easier this time, coated in the afterglow of his session. He wasn’t ready to share th

Back in the silence of his dorm room, Leonard tried to recreate the calm. He sat on the edge of his bed, closed his eyes, and placed a hand on his stomach, just like Paul had shown him. He took a slow, deep breath, pushing his stomach out.It felt hollow. The breath was just air moving in and out. The silence of the room was oppressive, not peaceful. The memory of the nightmare from the night before lingered at the edges of his mind, a dark stain the breathing couldn't wash away. He tried again, focusing harder. But without Paul's low, guiding voice, without the firm, warm pressure on his wrist, the exercise felt empty. It was just a mechanical action. The knot of anxiety in his chest remained, tight and stubborn.Frustration bubbled up inside him. Why isn't it working? He was doing everything right. But the magic was gone. The profound sense of safety and calm he had felt in Paul's office was nowhere to be found. It was like trying to start a fire with wet wood; the components were t

Paul’s apartment was nothing like Leonard had imagined. It wasn’t a cold, sterile bachelor pad. It was warm, lived-in, and surprisingly cozy. Soft light came from a lamp in the living room, illuminating comfortable-looking furniture and more bookshelves. The air smelled like coffee and that faint, familiar sandalwood.“You can take the guest room,” Paul said, his voice still low and calm. He led Leonard down a short hallway and opened a door. The room was simple but inviting: a bed with a dark blue comforter, a nightstand, a small desk. It was clean and quiet. “The bathroom is just across the hall. There are clean towels in the cabinet.”Leonard stood awkwardly in the doorway. “Thank you,” he mumbled, feeling like an intruder. “I’m so sorry for… all of this.”“Don’t be,” Paul said, his tone leaving no room for argument. “This is what I’m here for. To help. Try to get some sleep. I’ll be right out here if you need anything.” He gestured towards the living room.Leonard just nodded, his

The email from Paul was a beacon, a secret light that guided Leonard through the next few days. The awkwardness with Emily was a constant, low hum of discomfort. She didn't bring it up again, but the easy camaraderie was gone, replaced by a careful politeness that felt worse than an argument. Leonard told himself it was a necessary sacrifice. The sessions with Paul were what mattered. They were his real life now; everything else was just background noise.On Wednesday, heading to his 4 PM appointment, he felt a familiar mix of anticipation and nervous energy. As he walked across the quad, a voice called his name."Leonard! Hey, wait up!"He turned. It was Jack Morrison, a guy from his psychology class. Jack was everything Leonard wasn't: sunny, outgoing, with an easy smile that seemed to come naturally. He jogged up to Leonard, his blond hair a little messy in the wind."Hey, Jack," Leonard said, trying to sound normal. He subtly adjusted the strap of his backpack, a nervous habit."H