Falling In Love With Therapist Novels & Stories

"Not for the medal, not even for the recognition. Because I genuinely love skating, even when it's terrifying. When the pressure gets too loud, I try to find my way back to that love instead of the fear." I sit with that for a moment, something settling in my chest. "That's good advice." "Stolen from my own therapist, technically," she admits, laughing slightly. "Started seeing someone a few weeks ago, actually. Been meaning to tell you." "Ava, that's great," I say, genuine warmth in my voice. "How's it going?" "Really helpful, actually," she says. "Turns out unpacking months of scandal, family secrets, and a fake relationship that became real benefits from having a neutral professional to t

Summer said. "She actually did" Ava said laughing. "Take your time with this Doctor John guy. Even if you say you are just friends. I know you better than that love. We really need to talk about how we are coping with the stress of work" Summer said. "This is the friend I fell in love with so smart, I don't know who that other girl is" Ava said laughing.

Liam’s face visibly fell. His jaw tightened. I saw the pain flash across his eyes — the same pain I had caused so many times before. The therapist nodded neutrally, but I could feel the session shifting into dangerous territory. That night, after another intense but ultimately unsatisfying lovemaking session where I had to fake my final orgasm, the crack became a dangerous fissure. Liam had fallen asleep holding me. His warm body pressed against mine should have brought comfort. Instead, it made the hunger worse.

CERENA || "WHY do we need a sex therapist Dan?" I sit on his lap with a confused look on my face admiring my good looking husband. I run my fingers through his golden blonde hair as he massages my ass. "Baby I don't like it when you fake your orgasms. It makes me feel bad that I finish and enjoy it but you don't" he looks hurt that I've been faking my orgasm whenever we have sex. Don't get me wrong guys, I love Dan with my whole heart, he's my first love, my first everything. But lately some things have changed.

“Samantha, please listen to me. I’ve always cared about your well-being. But you knew from the beginning that our relationship was that of a doctor and patient. My role was to help you, to guide you—but as your therapist, not more than that.” Samantha’s face crumpled, her bravado collapsing as she let out a strangled sob. The hand holding the knife wavered slightly, her entire body trembling. “But… but I just wanted someone to love me,” she choked out, tears streaming down her face. “Why? Why is it that nobody can love me, not even you?”

It felt like I was being torn apart from the inside. “Fuck, I’ve never been in this position before,” I confessed, as I wiped my nose. “I’m sorry, Harper. I’m undergoing therapy so I can be a better spouse to you. I know your love for me, and I want to be able to reconcile with that love. That’s why I went for therapy. I want to fix this, fix us.”

“You can try to lie to yourself, but that doesn’t change the truth… Somewhere along the way you did fall in love with Chloe. That’s why losing her hurt.” Silence falls after that as the crushing weight of all that I said fills the air. I used to think like him. Back when I had hope. I thought that he only stayed with her because of the lies she told him and that he really didn’t love her. It took my therapist to finally realize that you don’t stay with someone you don’t love for years, well, unless there is something wrong with you. She helped me understand that Noah at one point fell in love with her. I may not know when, and only he can figure that out, but yes, love was very much involved

I walked out of his office, through the waiting room, and into the parking lot before I let myself breathe. Oh no. Oh fuck. I was attracted to my therapist. My married, forty-year-old therapist who I was court-ordered to see for the next seven weeks. This was bad. This was really, really bad. --- That night, I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about him. It didn't work. I kept seeing his face. His hands. The way he'd looked at me when I mentioned my mom's boyfriend. Like he cared. Like I mattered.

“I never really… I mean, I’ve tried, but it felt… weird. I stopped.” His smirk deepened, the piercing catching the light. “That explains a lot.” I gawked at him. “You’re supposed to be a therapist. Aren’t you meant to be… professional?” “I am being professional,” he said smoothly. “You came here because your ex called you boring. My job is to find out why you think that’s true. And right now, I see a woman who’s been too afraid to even touch herself. Tell me, Alessia - how can you expect to please anyone else when you don’t even know how to please yourself?”

Certain physical contact wasn't explicitly mentioned but was expected. The fact that Luke was so cautious told me that this client probably wasn't to be trifled with. Still, I smiled. "It's okay. I can handle it." I prepared myself and smiled professionally before heading into the private room. "Good day, sir. I'm your love therapist… for the day."