SOPHIA

When life was busy, three months had a way of flurrying by.

But Sophia Barrett's last ninety-two days had passed in a drizzle of constant monotony. She'd spent them curled up napping on her leather couch, reading well-worn novels, and sitting in a slew of therapy sessions.

Thank goodness today was day ninety-three and she was finally standing in front of her office. She straightened her freshly pressed blazer, adjusted the strap of her laptop bag across her shoulder, and blew out a breath. At long last, a return to normalcy. Her trembling hand pulled on the large black door to Suite 608 and swung it open.

Sophia walked through the door and did her best to pretend like she was still the strong, confident woman whose mission in life was to help others through their pain.

The waiting room smelled like lavender as always, the view of downtown Phoenix from the window behind the secretary's desk remained unchanged, and the wall fountain to her right still had a way of soothing her nerves.

But something about being here felt different. Maybe it was simply Sophia who had changed.

Kristin's head popped up from the large, oak secretary desk. "You're back!" The intern unhooked her headset and rushed from behind the desk, throwing her arms around Sophia. "We've all missed you."

"I've missed being here." Sophia released a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.

"You chopped your hair!" Kristin tilted her head and chewed her gum as she studied Sophia. "I love it."

"Thanks." Sophia reached up to tug at the shorter strands, which now barely reached her shoulders. David had always liked her hair long. "It was time for a change."

Kristin's smile turned sympathetic. She squeezed Sophia's shoulder. "Good to have you back. I know Dr. Beckman has been going crazy without you."

"I'm sure Joy has survived just fine."

"No, Joy has not. But that's beside the point."

Sophia turned to find her best friend standing in the hallway, hands on her hips. Joy Beckman stood at barely five feet tall, but what she lacked in height, she made up for in personality. From her blonde pixie haircut to her outlandish jewelry and bright-colored clothing, no one could accuse Joy of not being her own person. Sophia, on the other hand, was much more comfortable in her black pants and cream-colored blouse, perfectly content to not stand out.

But despite their differences and the nearly ten-year age gap between them, Joy was more friend and pseudo big sister to Sophia than a boss.

"Hey." Sophia leaned down to hug Joy. "It's not like it was my idea to sit at home for the last three months. You're the one who banished me."

Joy rolled her eyes. "Come on. I'll brief you on your schedule for today." The phone rang. "Kristin, can you get that, please?"

"Of course." Kristin scrambled back behind the desk and slid her headset on. "LifeSong Women's Counseling. How can I help you?"

Sophia followed Joy down the short hallway into her friend's office. She picked a photo off Joy's cluttered desk. "You got new pictures done." In the photo, a jubilant Joy sat surrounded by five dogs.

"I couldn't very well have a photo without Lion. He'd be offended." Joy took the photo from Sophia's hands and glanced at it briefly, a small smirk playing at the corner of her lips.

"Lion is a tiny, nine-year-old dog with one eye that you rescued in his old age. I think it would take a lot to offend him." Sophia plopped into the seat opposite Joy, who slid into the office chair behind her desk. "So, do you have any appointments scheduled for me today? I wasn't sure whether you decided to transition my former clients back to me or keep them with Veronica." Though she'd seen her outside the office several times a week, Joy had always refused to discuss work, believing it would only stress Sophia out more to know what she was missing.

Joy searched the piles of paper on her desk and finally pulled a piece loose. "Here. I sent this via e-mail but thought we could chat briefly before you got all settled in."

Sophia took the paper from Joy's hand and studied it. She raised an eyebrow. "There's only one name on this list."

"You should start slow." Her friend worried her bottom lip. "I'm still not sure you should be here. Three months isn't that long."

"Three months is plenty long. I was wasting away on that couch and you know it." Sophia tried hard to keep the accusation from her tone, but it slipped in anyway.

"Nobody said you had to spend the three months twiddling your thumbs."

"I didn't." At Joy's pointed look, Sophia huffed. "Okay, fine. I guess I did. A little." At first, it'd been so hard to deal with the fact that she'd had a mental breakdown — in the grocery store of all places — on the first anniversary of David's death. Somehow she'd managed to hold it together for a year — denial was a many-faceted beast — and seeing the expensive brand of protein powder he had liked on the clearance shelf had just set her off.

How embarrassing to think back to the way she had taken every single container, unscrewed the lids, and dumped the contents onto the floor, not stopping until she was sobbing in a pile of powder and empty tubs.

Needless to say, she hadn't been back to that particular grocery store, even though she'd apologized profusely and paid for the mess she'd created.

After that, facing anyone other than Mom, Joy, and Cindy — the therapist who had walked Sophia through the worst of it — had been too difficult. It had seemed easiest to bury her nose in her favorite books and just grin and bear her sentence as quickly as possible: three months' paid leave from work.

Most people would find that sentence glorious. But most weren't trying to forget a dead fiancé and all the complicated feelings his death still raised in her, now more than a year after a car accident had taken him from this life into the next.

"I'm not judging you. I'm just concerned. You know that. David did a number on you. And when he died, you stuffed all your feelings away and tried your best to pretend his death didn't affect you."

Right. The very opposite of what she'd learned in six years of school for counseling and countless practicum hours. "I know all of that. But going to therapy with Cindy was just the thing I needed to get past it all. I'm better now."

Well, she would be, once she relearned how to stand on her own two feet.

And part of that meant facing the world again. "I need this." Sophia gestured around the room. "To return to something familiar. To keep busy." To help other people. Mom always said that was the best way to get out of your own head — and Sophia was so tired of being in hers.

Joy rubbed her forehead. Clearly she wasn't finished, despite all the protests she'd already laid in the weeks leading up to today. "I'm just afraid that being here will trigger —"

"I do appreciate your concern, Joy. I do. But please. Just trust me." Sophia stood and straightened her shoulders. "Now, it looks like my client will be here at nine, so I need to get to my office and prep." She walked toward the door and turned. "Goodness knows I wouldn't have survived without you. But I'm ready. I can do this."

Joy's smile appeared forced. "Okay."

Sophia stepped across the hall and rummaged through her bag for her keys. She unlocked the door and flicked on the fluorescent lights. The air smelled stale, tinged...