Therapist Couch Novels & Stories

After my older sister Rachelle came home from dialysis, the atmosphere at home was suffocating. She curled up on the couch, thin as a rail. She was nagging me hard and telling me not to tire myself out too much at work. Dad was by the door smoking. To get money to treat Rachelle’s condition, he had sold our old house and land. Dirty and muddied, my fiance, who had always viewed Rachelle as a sister of his own, brought home his week’s salary. They all lamented how unfair life was to already poor and suffering people who had to suffer even more. I looked at myself in the mirror with my bleeding nose and flushed away the report with my acute leukemia diagnosis. During dinner, Dad suddenly said, “Ryleigh, Rachelle needs a kidney. You’re healthy and young. You might be a match.” I looked at Rachelle’s pleading eyes and coldly put my cutlery down. “I won’t do it. I’ll be a cripple with one less kidney. How am I supposed to find someone to marry then?” Dad slapped me hard, even as my fiance called me ungrateful. I slammed the door shut as I left. I looked for the nearest room to the hospital to rent so that I could wait it out until I died. The room I found was only five blocks away from the organ donation center.

So this is how the mate bond feels. A rush of energy, a pull like gravity tightening around us, and an almost maddening awareness of the other person. I wasn’t about to let it sway me though. Sure, the man in front of me is ridiculously perfect, but I wasn’t some love-struck fool who’d drop everything at the first spark of fate. I had a life, plans, and a fiancé waiting for me upstairs. I raised an eyebrow, forcing myself to stay calm even as my heart raced. “Take a number and get in line, sweetheart,” I said coolly, flashing the engagement ring on my finger in front of his gray eyes. “I’m otherwise occupied right now.” …Five years later, when I pushed the door open, my mate remained motionless on a leather couch, his piercing gaze boring into me with a cold detachment that sent shivers down my spine. He leaned back, the casualness of the gesture at odds with the intensity in his eyes. His arms rested lazily on the backrest, but there was nothing relaxed about him. His body was coiled tight, like a predator ready to pounce, and the air between us crackled with tension. “Is my number finally up?” he asks, his tone laced with bitter amusement. “My dear mate.” The words sting, but I can’t deny the truth in them. He is my last chance.

During my mother's prenatal testing, the doctor discovers that I, the baby she's carrying, have the XYY syndrome. Since Mom's health is frail, it will be hard for her to have another baby. My parents somberly decide to have me anyway. When I'm in elementary school, my nanny is playing with me when I accidentally break her arm by stepping on it. During middle school, a few thugs try to rob me on the street, only to end up in the hospital because of me. This one incident makes me famous. Word keeps spreading until I become known as a bully in school. No one dares to offend me at all. I've since graduated from college. During a class reunion with my college classmates, Zoey Johnson, my girlfriend of three years, brings Michael Greer, her male best friend, with her. When a game of Truth or Dare starts, Michael bluntly shares one of Zoey's secrets. "I know she has a mole on one of her nips." He looks smug about what he has just revealed. Everyone else has fallen silent. After glancing at Zoey, who's sitting beside Michael, I pull her off the couch and say, "Take your top off. Let's see if he's telling the truth."

The news came that Raymond had been shot. I was seven months pregnant, but I flew straight across the country to the family's East Coast compound—and got detained the moment I stepped inside. “Never heard of the Don having a fiancée, and pregnant no less. You've got some nerve running a con on Carraso turf.” The barrel of a gun pressed cold against my temple. My heart was clawing its way up my throat when I caught sight of a familiar figure across the room. “Raffina,” I shouted, “tell them I'm your brother-in-law's fiancée.” Raffina gave a small wave of her hand, and the man holding the gun immediately bent at the waist. “Donna, I didn't know she was a friend of yours. My mistake.” I stared with wide eyes, unable to make sense of what I was seeing. Inside the compound, the same man crossed to where Raymond sat on the couch without a scratch on him, and gave a formal nod. “Don, she claims she's your fiancée.” Raymond took a slow sip of his whiskey and shook his head, just barely. They dragged me out, and on the way the man slapped me across the face, warning me not to try my con act anywhere near the family again. I pulled the engagement ring off my finger and went straight to International Financial Tower.

On the fourth day of Christmas, my true love sent me, heartbreak on a platter of gold. How thoughtful. Melody Hart once believed December carried its own charm, everything feels beautiful and magical, and she would be having a Christmas wedding, something she’d dreamed of since childhood. But magic turned to ash the moment she walked in on the man she loved, unwrapping someone else like a gift. Determined to start over, she runs to New York City with nothing but a bruised heart and an almost empty bank account . She isn’t searching for miracles anymore. She just wants a job, a bed that’s not a borrowed couch, and one peaceful night where she doesn’t cry herself to sleep. Just like she had her problems, Logan Russo had his. He needs a woman for Christmas, someone who would be able to act in front of his whole family, just to get them off his neck. Melody needs two hundred thousand dollars. Neither of them needs love. The universe brought them together, two desperate strangers who needed each other. What started off as a confrontation at the airport, soon blossomed into something beautiful. She got her Christmas miracle after all. All that was short-lived because the universe had other plans. But this time, how much can she take, how willing is she to protect what she's built? Only time will tell.

My twin sister, Ruby Stone, and I split up after our parents' divorce. She stays with Mom, while I went with Dad. Since the divorce, he's sunk into a deep depression, gambling away every penny we have. We move into a dark, damp apartment, and life becomes an endless struggle. Every day, I go to school and quietly work a part-time job to keep us afloat. Then, out of nowhere, Ruby—whom I haven't heard from in forever—sends me a link to a live stream. "Check this out, Aria. There's a surprise waiting for you." I click it, and my jaw drops. I'm the one topping the trending live streams. The screen splits in two. On one side, I sit in my dingy apartment, hunched over homework under the dim light. On the other side, Mom and Dad cuddle with Ruby on the fancy couch of their sprawling villa. The comments came pouring in. "Let's see what happens when twins are raised on opposite sides of fortune all the way to 18." "Aria still doesn't know, right? Her parents never divorced. They're loaded and perfectly happy. Ruby's life has been like a dream too." "Poor Aria. She's always starving and never has anything decent to wear. Isn't that basically abuse?" "She's the more sensible one, so her parents decided to raise her poorly."

I was the heiress switched at birth by a nanny. It was not until I turned eighteen that my biological parents finally found me, and traded me back for the girl they had raised and loved as their own. However, fate played a cruel joke that very same week. My parents died in a car accident. The family business collapsed. In one night, I lost everything. My older brother survived, but his kidneys failed. I did not hesitate. I gave him mine. However, grief broke something in him. Blaming me for our parents' deaths, he spiraled into madness. "You killed Mom and Dad! Why wasn't it you who died instead?" he screamed. I gave up college and took on three jobs a day just to pay for his treatment. Years passed. One day, while cleaning a mansion as a housekeeper, I saw her, the "sister" I was traded for, gliding through a lavish party, dressed in designer clothes and dripping in jewels. I froze when I heard the voices I had long thought silenced. My parents, alive, speaking to her as gently as ever: "Jasmine, you're so compassionate… agreeing to end Helen's punishment early." My brother, the one who should still be seeing a therapist, frowned and objected. "No. Not even a day less. Just because she suffers a little doesn't mean she deserves to live." I glanced down at the medical report still warm in my hands. For the first time in years, I smiled. "Perfect," I whispered. "Now I can finally die like I wanted to."

A well-planned day will be the way to cross their path crucially. August 13, 2014, was the marked day Lavender Visha Grey will meet her new psychologist, Dr. Black, to maintain her lovely reputation she will need a therapist to help her heal her darkest past she had been hiding since she escaped. Growing up in an orphanage as skinny and stinky as she was, she has been the target of big fat bullies since she arrived in the shelter. The poor little Lavender tends to stay alone in the empty room, as usual after their meal she will run up to the third floor with her little smile and the idea she will be alone again. But she didn’t expect that the moment she stepped into the room her nightmares would be made and hunt her for the rest of her life. She never expected that the mighty psychologist would find the key to open her soul again out of curiosity. With his charming smile and dark look. Will her walls be shaken with the hot psychologist? Or she will buy any preference book to learn how to seduce a great seducer. Even she can entice many as she can. She needs to have the one she can’t unless she tells her story for the first time. On their way to getting into each other, they will be burned with their fiery desire with their way through. One heart that seeks revenge for her loved one, and one heart that intends to show his love but in a wrong way. “Manipulation is not always needed I know,” “I want peace but I need to avenge, yes,”

"That's going to conclude our session today" "Please, come back tomorrow, miss Athena. I enjoy your visit, especially when it's in this lone alone" He rasped, voice raspy as ever. Sadistic was his way of analyzing her features and expressions, he finds amusement in her suffering. Then she won't suffer. "don't forget that they're cameras here and all your sessions is being recorded Nyx, along with the guards out there, they just need me to press this button to make them walk in, "she said, locking her eyes with him as she showed him the red button of the instrument of the recording room. She eyes him silently." I don't have a problem with that " he paused before he continued" but I have one when you come to my cell, showing off your genius ass to the other prisoners, Doctor " he spoke. as she looked at him weirdly, until realization hit her. So the villain can be jealous. Interesting. "Jealous much? " "Yes, after all, you're my therapist, not theirs right ??" "maybe?" she paused taking a deep breath, "but what can I say? It seemed to me that the Villain is jealous. Goodbye, Mr. Nyx." She stood up, arranging her papers before walking toward the door. She was leaving him hanging on her words. The villain of her story.

I met him in a place no sane woman should ever be in Blackgate Prison. As a prison therapist, I was trained to see danger. Every part of me screamed to stay away, but I couldn’t. He was a legend behind bars, Nikolai Sokolov, ruthless, untouchable, the leader of one of Russia’s most feared Mafia syndicates. Darkness clung to him like a second skin. The dim light carved his face into something sharp and dangerous. He looked at me, cold and unreadable, and held me in place with his gaze. “Who are you?” His voice was rough, heavy with threats and scars I couldn’t see. I forced a smile, trying to keep my voice steady. And yet… a part of me felt at home in this danger, a shadow inside I had never admitted, one that hummed quietly at his presence. It was darkness like his, though he couldn’t know it. “I’m Dr. Korovin. I’m here to evaluate you.” The chains rattled as he shifted, a predator testing the limits of his cage. His lips curved, not into a smile, but into a warning. “My name is Nikolai,” he said slowly, deliberately, heavy with threat. “Remember it, Doctor.” I should have been scared. I should have run. But something inside me stirred, something dark, like him, and I didn’t yet understand it.