Kerri straightened her spine and raised herself to her full five feet four, hoping that the simple black shift and matching peplum jacket she'd chosen to wear that warm autumn day actually looked as nice on her curvy frame as she thought. "I'm here to see Sebastian March." The receptionist led her to a seating area through a door off the main hall and offered her a coffee, which Kerri refused, then seemed to glide off again in the general direction she had appeared from. Kerri fingered the thick business card in her jacket pocket, the one embossed with the therapist's name and address, and felt the butterflies in her stomach kick into overdrive. One more time, she questioned her decision to come. The internet hadn't provided much in-depth information on the psychosexual therapist her ex, Benjamin, had tried to force her to visit. How ironic was it that his attempt at controlling her had inadvertently given her the motivation to address an issue she'd been ignoring for a long time, but for her own sake, not his.
