Chapter 251

Astrid had to concede-the cosmetic surgeon who worked on Simon was remarkably skilled. Yet, under closer scrutiny, faint traces of the scalpel still lingered.

As for exactly which parts had been altered, a more deliberate study would be required.

Steadying her nerves, Astrid seated herself across from him.

Simon poured a steaming cup of coffee,his movements unhurried, and slid it gently toward her.With a tone as soft as silk, he said, "Ms. Mills, if anything weighs heavily on your heart, you can share it with me. I'm certain I can be of help."

Astrid gave a slight nod, her fingers trembling as she accepted the cup. "Thank you, doctor," she whispered.

Lowering her gaze, she took a careful sip, as though summoning courage drop by drop, and then slowly began, "I... my husband... he always beats me. I live each day like walking on thin ice, never knowing when he might lose his mind. Six months ago, he struck me so brutally I nearly died. That was when l finally divorced him."

Her eyes drifted away, as if she dared not stare into the abyss of those memories, her whole bearing that of a true victim.

"But ever since then-these six months-l've been haunted by nightmares. My mind feels worn thin, my temper frays for no reason. His vicious face rises again and again in my thoughts. He shadows me like a monster."

Astrid raised her eyes, fixing them on Simon, her lips quivering. "I'm terrified, doctor. So terrified..."

Simon's brow creased, but his voice remained calm, almost soothing. "Don't be afraid. You're safe here.Drink some coffee. Let your shoulders rest. Tell me-what is the fear that grips you most? I will help you untangle it."

Astrid pressed her lower lip, hesitating, as if weighing her words carefully. In truth, her mind wNas working elsewhere-how to catch the subtletes of his expression without drawing suspicion, how to discern whether he had truly undergone plastic surgery while concealing her real motive.

From their exchange so far, Astrid could tell-Evelyn had not exaggerated. The man in front of her was every bit as cautious as she had warned. He was no easy nut to crack.

Fortunately, Astrid had crossed paths with many psychologists before; she knew how to hold her ground with Simon.

Her lips quivered as she muttered, "He became vicious after drinking. The house would be torn apart, furniture shattered. He struck me, kicked me,and once..." Her voice faltered into silence. Simon, pen paused mid-note,lifted his head to look at her.

Astrid clutched the coffee cup tighter, her hands shaking as though seized by a chill. Her eyes lost focus, drifting into the darkness of some dreadful memory.Fear was written all over her face.

Simon leaned closer, his hand gentle on her shoulder."Ms. Mills, are you alright?"

Suddenly, as though jolted awake, Astrid recoiled sharply. The hot coffee spilled from the cup, scalding the back of her hand. She let out a muffled cry of pain.

In the next instant, panic overtook her. The cup tilted,and the remaining coffee splattered onto Simon's face and pristine white coat.

"Oh no! I'm sorry, doctor-I didn't mean to. I was just so frightened." Astrid leapt to her feet, panic and guilt rushing over her features. Repeating her apologies, she snatched a tissue from the table and leaned toward Simon. Feigning nervous haste, she dabbed at the stains on his face. Yet her true focus lay on his jawline.

As she wiped, her fingertips brushed his jaw ever so lightly, tracing its shape, memorizing its feel.