Chapter 305

Serena's POV

I couldn't remember the last time I'd visited Dr. Chapman. Six months? Maybe longer. The familiar scent of lavender and sandalwood welcomed me as I pushed open the door of the private clinic nestled in a quiet corner of city. The receptionist smiled in recognition as I approached.

"Ms. Sinclair! What a lovely surprise."

I managed a polite nod, my fingers clutching my handbag a little tighter than necessary. My reflection looked tired, despite the flawless makeup I'd applied that morning. Dark circles stubbornly peeked through the concealer beneath my eyes.

"Is he available?" I asked, not bothering with pleasantries. Sleep had evaded me for weeks now, and I was too exhausted for social niceties.

"Let me check," she said, reaching for the phone. A quick conversation later, she beamed at me. "You're in luck! He just had a cancellation."

Minutes later, I heard his warm, familiar voice.

"Serena." Dr. James Chapman greeted me with genuine enthusiasm, his kind eyes crinkling at the corners. "What brings you here after all this time?"

I met his gaze briefly before looking away. "Insomnia. It's bad."

James ushered me into his office with a gentle hand on my shoulder. The room hadn't changed: soft lighting, plush furniture in muted tones, tasteful abstract art on the walls. Everything designed to soothe troubled minds.

He guided me to the chaise lounge where I'd spent countless hours over the years, unraveling the tangled threads of my past. As I settled onto the soft leather, he draped a cashmere throw over my legs.

"Comfortable?" he asked, moving to the small kitchenette in the corner.

I nodded, sinking deeper into the cushions. The familiar scent of the room-books, leather, and a hint of cinnamon-brought a strange comfort.

James busied himself preparing tea, the soft clink of porcelain filling the silence between us. "Work stress too much lately?" he asked casually, his back to me.

"That's just it," I sighed, staring up at the ceiling. "There's hardly any pressure at all. StarRiver is running smoothly for once. The board is satisfied. Everything is... fine."

"And that's why you can't sleep?" He turned, eyebrow raised, holding two steaming cups of tea.

I accepted mine, watching the amber liquid swirl. "Exactly."

James settled into his leather chair across from me, studying my face with the practiced eye of someone who had known me for years. "You're thinking about Lucas again, aren't you?"

The sound of his name sent a physical ache through my chest. I took a sip of tea to hide my reaction, but James had already seen it. He always did.

"I can't sleep," I admitted quietly. "Every night, the same thing."

"Tell me about it," he encouraged.

I closed my eyes, allowing myself to feel the full weight of my grief. "I lie awake for hours. When I do manage to fall asleep, I dream of him, and then I wake up reaching for someone who isn't there." My voice cracked slightly. "It's been three years, James. Shouldn't it be getting easier?"

James leaned forward, his expression gentle but serious. "Serena, we need to address something important. Lucas is gone. You know that, right?"

I opened my eyes, meeting his concerned gaze. "I know he's dead." The words felt like glass in my throat. "I've never deluded myself into thinking he's still alive. I don't dare hope for that. The disappointment when reality hits would destroy me completely."

James nodded, rising to light one of his aromatherapy candles. The soft scent of jasmine filled the air. "But you still can't let him go."

"I can't," I whispered, closing my eyes again. "When everything is quiet, when I'm alone with my thoughts, he's all I see. Even now, with my eyes closed, I see his face so clearly." I could picture Lucas perfectly-his intense gray eyes, the way one corner of his mouth would lift slightly when he was amused, how his powerful presence would fill a room.

James returned to his seat. "How severely is this affecting your daily life?"

"Completely," I admitted. "I can't sleep, I barely eat, nothing interests me anymore. I go through the motions at work, but inside I'm..." I trailed off, not knowing how to describe the hollow feeling that had become my constant companion.

"Do you remember what I suggested last time you were here?" James asked.

I nodded reluctantly. "You said I should start dating again."

"And why haven't you?"

I stared into my teacup, avoiding his eyes. "It feels wrong."

"Wrong how?"

"Like I'm betraying him," I whispered.

James' voice softened. "Do you feel guilty? Like you're being unfaithful to Lucas?"

I nodded, feeling the sting of tears behind my eyelids.

"My dear, you still haven't fully accepted that Lucas is gone," James said gently. "He's no longer in this world. Whatever you do, he won't know about it, and he wouldn't mind even if he could know."

A tear escaped despite my efforts to contain it. "That's not it," I said. "I'm afraid..."

"Afraid of what?"

"Afraid of forgetting him," I admitted, the truth finally surfacing. "Afraid that if I let someone else in, his memory will fade. The sound of his voice, the feel of his touch..." My voice broke. "I can't lose those too."

James was quiet for a moment, respecting my grief. Then he asked, "What would Lucas want for you, Serena?"

The question hit me hard. I knew the answer, of course. Lucas had always wanted my happiness above all else.

"I'm tired," I said finally, avoiding the question. "I'd like to sleep for a while, if that's okay."

James nodded, understanding my need to retreat. "Of course. Rest as long as you need."

I turned onto my side, pulling the soft throw closer around me. The gentle scent of the candle and the comforting presence of someone watching over me worked their magic. For the first time in weeks, I slipped into a dreamless sleep.

When I woke, sunshine was streaming through the partially closed blinds. James was at his desk, working quietly on his laptop. He looked up when he heard me stir.

"Sleep well?" he asked.

I stretched, feeling slightly more rested than I had in a long time. "Not bad."

Glancing at the antique clock on the wall, I was surprised to see it was already past noon. I'd slept for nearly three hours. Standing up, I smoothed my wrinkled clothes and reached for my handbag.

"I should go," I said.

James walked me to the door. "Think about what I suggested, Serena. It's time."

"Mmm," I murmured noncommittally, not meeting his eyes.

Once inside my car, I checked my phone: five missed calls from Miles. I dialed his number.

"I'm heading to the airport," I told him without preamble. "Bring my luggage over."

"Right away, Ms. Sinclair," he replied efficiently. "Anything else you need?"

"No, that's all. Thank you."

After hanging up, I gazed out the car window. The city felt suffocating suddenly-too many memories, too many ghosts.

"Start dating again," I whispered to myself, repeating James's advice. The thought made my stomach clench with anxiety. How could I possibly open myself up to that kind of pain again? After Lucas, after everything we'd been through together, how could anyone else ever compare?