Millionaire Girlfriend

“Hello, Clara. I’d love to say I’m happy to see you again, but unfortunately, the fact that you’re back in my office is bad news,” said a brown-haired woman in her forties, sitting comfortably in an armchair with a notebook resting in her hands.

She was Clara’s psychologist, the same one Clara had seen after Ashley disappeared.

Clara was back in the same office, lying comfortably on the couch in an oversized white hoodie.

Unlike last time, however, her choice of clothing had nothing to do with her emotional state.

She had simply chosen something comfortable.

The hoodie also helped hide the large bandages wrapped around her neck, shoulder, and back.

Her injuries were still painful, and even simple movements could sometimes remind her of what had happened.

But strangely enough, the physical pain didn’t bother her nearly as much as what was happening inside her head.

“Now that I look around, I have to admit that your office is really cozy,” Clara said, looking around.

The room hadn’t changed much since the last time she had been there.

The same furniture.

The same peaceful atmosphere.

The same couch.

It almost felt strange being back in a place associated with one of the darkest periods of her life.

“Have you always had goldfish here?” she asked after noticing the small, beautifully decorated aquarium in the corner of the room, with a little fish swimming peacefully inside.

“It’s not the same fish as before, but yes. There has always been an aquarium and a fish in this office,” the psychologist replied as she put on her glasses and opened her notebook, ready to begin the session.

Clara watched the fish swimming peacefully behind the glass for several seconds.

It moved slowly from one side of the aquarium to the other, completely unaware of the world outside.

For some reason, Clara found the sight strangely calming.

“You seem different,” the psychologist said after carefully observing Clara’s behavior.

“That’s obvious,” Clara replied.

The depressed version of Clara was nothing like the person sitting in front of the psychologist now.

“It’s obvious, but can you tell me how?” Clara asked.

She was genuinely curious.

She knew that a psychologist’s job was largely to analyze a patient’s behavior and find the right therapeutic approach for them.

If anyone could understand what was happening inside her mind, she hoped it would be this woman.

“Last time, you shut yourself off because you didn’t want to face reality,” the psychologist explained. “But now, you’re much more open to the people around you, while at the same time, you’re constantly on alert, as if you don’t want to miss a single detail.”

Clara thought about those words for a moment.

They were accurate.

“Last time, I was right not to accept what everyone else thought was reality. Maybe I’m right to stay open to the people around me while still keeping my guard up this time,” Clara argued.

“You might be right,” the psychologist admitted. “It’s understandable to stay alert after everything you’ve been through.”

She paused briefly before continuing.

“However, being like this all the time affects not only your mind but also the way you behave.”

“Because of it, you’re having nightmares every night, and you’re constantly tense throughout the day. Eventually, that will affect your relationships, especially your romantic relationship.”

Clara listened quietly.

She already knew all of this.

She knew she was constantly tense.

She knew the nightmares were becoming a problem.

But knowing what was happening wasn’t the same as knowing how to stop it.

She still hadn’t found a way to make it stop.

That was why she had come to see a specialist.

“What do you recommend, Doc?” Clara asked, determined to overcome the trauma that was ruining her life and keeping her from being truly happy.

“That’s good. I can see that, unlike last time, you’re actually willing to cooperate,” the psychologist said with a warm smile.

“All right, then. Start by telling me about the attack,” the psychologist said.

Clara took a deep breath.

For a moment, she remained silent, gathering her thoughts.

“We left the next morning after my cousin Ben’s wedding . I was driving normally when several bullets shattered the rear windshield. Then several men opened fire on us with machine guns, causing the car to veer off the road. We almost crashed into a tree.”

“We exchanged gunfire, and I told Ashley to run. I was ready to sacrifice myself to save her. But a few minutes later, she came back and threw herself at one of the attackers.”

“But when I tried to help her, I was shot twice, leaving me practically dead. Then my brother and a bodyguard came and saved us.”

As Clara recounted what had happened, the psychologist continued taking notes.

Her pen moved across the paper while she listened carefully.

Clara was on the verge of tears, but she couldn’t help wondering what exactly the psychologist was writing in her notebook.

“That was very brave of you, telling me all of that,” the psychologist said.

“However, I noticed something interesting. The way you’re telling the story isn’t really from your point of view. It sounds more like you’re telling it from someone else’s perspective.”

“Perhaps your fiancée’s.”

“So when you describe what happened, it’s almost as if you weren’t really the one who experienced the event.”

The psychologist was right.

Most of what Clara remembered about that morning came from what Ashley had told her afterward.

Her own memories were extremely blurry.

“I want you to tell me the story again,” the psychologist said. “But this time, I want every detail you personally remember.”

“And I want you to tell me what you felt in those moments.”

Clara took a deep breath and slowly exhaled.

Then she began again.

This time, she told her own version of what had happened, leaving nothing out except, of course, the intimate moment she had shared with Ashley.

She described everything she could remember, down to the smallest details.

The attack.

The gunshots.

The fear.

The confusion.

The desperate attempt to protect Ashley.

The pain.

The helplessness.

The moment everything became too much for her.

As she spoke, the memories became increasingly difficult to describe.

By the time she finished, tears were streaming down her face without her even realizing it.

She hadn’t even noticed when she started crying.

As usual, the psychologist continued taking notes.

“Here,” she said, handing Clara a tissue.

Clara accepted it and wiped away her tears.

“Have you figured out what’s wrong with me?” Clara asked as she wiped away her tears, though she was still smiling slightly.

She was trying to lighten the mood despite the seriousness of the conversation.

“I have a hypothesis,” the psychologist replied with a warm smile, answering a very serious question in a gentle manner.

“Your problem is that you still haven’t fully accepted that you survived.”

“You were trapped in a situation where you were willing to die so the woman you love could survive. You were ready to sacrifice yourself for her, but you never expected her to be willing to sacrifice herself for you too.”

“I think you’re traumatized because you lost consciousness believing that you were going to die and that Ashley would die shortly after you.”

“You lost consciousness carrying that feeling of helplessness with you.”

“And that’s what is causing your nightmares. Your subconscious still hasn’t moved on from what happened. Every time you fall asleep, it feels as though you and Ashley are still in danger.”

Clara remained silent for a few seconds.

She thought carefully about what the psychologist had just said.

Then she realized the psychologist was right.

“So what can I do to get better?” Clara asked.

“In your case, I think the best solution is to bring some closure to this story.”

“Go back to the place where the attack happened and create a new, better memory there.”

“Then, if possible, visit your attackers in prison. And if any of them are dead, visit their graves.”

“Your mind needs to understand that you’re the one who won, not them.”

“It needs to understand that you can finally rest and move forward.”

After the session ended, Clara left the psychologist’s office determined to finally put the tragic event behind her.

She went straight back to the place where the attack had happened, wanting to create a new memory there.

The first time, she had been too focused on surviving to pay attention to her surroundings, which was why her memories of the place had always felt incomplete.

But this time, she noticed everything.

Every detail of the forest.

The trees.

The sounds.

The path.

She even noticed traces of blood where the car had been.

Being there made her uneasy, but she forced herself to confront the fear that now existed only in her mind.

She knew she had to do this if she wanted to overcome her trauma.

She had already survived the attack.

Now she needed to prove to herself that she could stand in the same place without being consumed by what had happened there.

After that, she went to the cemetery to visit the graves of her attackers.

She could no longer remember their faces clearly, but she knew that the people who had tried to kill her were now six feet underground.

Then she went to the hospital where one of the attackers who had survived was being held.

The man was clearly surprised to see the woman he had once tried to kill standing in front of him.

If anything, it was Clara who had nearly killed him.

——–

“Where did they go?” Clara asked as she entered her father’s office, the same office that had once belonged to her.

“Sit down,” her father said.

Clovis opened one of the drawers of his desk and took out several photographs he had kept there.

He had known his daughter would eventually come asking for answers.

He gently pushed the photographs across the desk toward her.

Clara picked them up and carefully examined the faces of the people responsible for so much of the misery she had endured.

It was Dylan and Lucinda, along with their son.

They were sitting in a restaurant surrounded by people who appeared to be Asian, which meant they were probably somewhere in Asia.

Judging from the photographs, they seemed to be doing relatively well, almost as if they had started a new life.

“What did you do to them?” Clara asked.

“I gave them a chance to start over somewhere far away,” Clovis explained.

Clara raised an eyebrow.

It was the first time she had ever heard her father talk about giving someone a second chance.

It was strange coming from him.

Clovis had never been the type to show mercy to anyone not even his own children.

“Do you want revenge?” Clovis asked, studying Clara’s expression carefully.

Clara looked closely at the photographs again.

She noticed that Lucinda was still in a wheelchair.

Dylan, on the other hand, looked thinner and extremely pale.

Then Clara noticed the child sitting with them.

It was the boy she considered her nephew, the same child she used to take out for ice cream.

“What are the chances they’ll come back?” Clara asked.

“None,” Clovis replied.

“They’re wanted by the FBI. Their American passports are no longer valid, and I’ve placed them somewhere where I have people keeping an eye on them.”

“If they decide to cause trouble, I’ll deal with them myself.”

Clara nodded in agreement, accepting her father’s arrangement.

She didn’t need to ask anything else.

After that, she decided to go straight home.

Ashley was already waiting for her, and Clara missed her terribly.

“So, how is my brave fiancée?” Ashley asked with a smile when she saw Clara walk through the door.

It was true that Clara was the clingier one between them, but this time, Ashley couldn’t stand being apart from her, even though Clara had only been gone for a few hours.

“Tired. Everything hurts,” Clara admitted.

Her body was still covered in bandages, and even the short trip had left her exhausted.

“Come on, sit down. I made you something delicious,” Ashley said.

“Hmm… I hope it’s not soup. I’m seriously sick of soup,” Clara complained.

“Don’t worry. Your future wife knows what you like better than anyone,” Ashley replied.

Then she brought Clara a delicious-looking meal that immediately made her mouth water.

Clara couldn’t help smiling when she saw it.

After everything she had gone through, being able to come home to Ashley and enjoy something as simple as a meal together felt strangely precious.

After eating, Clara went straight to bed.

Her body was still too fragile and needed plenty of rest.

Ashley stayed beside her, making sure she was comfortable before they both settled down for the night.

That night, Clara fell asleep beside Ashley.

She had another nightmare.

But this time, she didn’t wake Ashley.

Ashley continued sleeping peacefully beside her while Clara silently endured the nightmare.

She remained there until the nightmare finally began to fade.

For the first time, Clara’s mind was beginning to understand that the nightmare belonged to the past.

And the past could no longer hurt her.