The air hung heavy with an unspoken melancholy, and shadows danced across the walls like ghosts of forgotten dreams. Flynn sat on the couch, her fingers tracing the rim of a half-empty glass of whiskey. The amber liquid reflected the dim light, just as her eyes held a reflection of distant memories. If wishes were horses.

"Martin," she whispered her voice a fragile thread of emotion. "He was a storm that I thought I could weather." She said with a deep feeling of regret and shame.

Her gaze drifted towards her purse where an old photograph was, frozen in time. It captured a younger version of her and Keith, their smiles seemingly genuine, masking the storms that raged beneath the surface.

"I used to think we were meant to be, you know?" Flynn's voice trembled as she spoke, the weight of the past pressing down on her shoulders. She took a huge gulp of whiskey, its warmth doing little to chase away the chill that seemed to have settled in her heart.

"Keith had a way of making me feel like I was walking on thin ice," she continued, her fingers tightening around the glass. Overwhelmed by confusion and despair, her heart darted towards the good times she had with both Keith and Martin.

Flynn's eyes glazed over, lost in the whirlpool of her memories. The room seemed to close in around her as if she were trapped in a cocoon of regrets that she had spun herself.

"I tried to hold onto the good times, hoping they'd outweigh the bad," Flynn's voice grew softer, barely audible over the sound of her thoughts. A tear slipped down her cheek, glistening like a crystal teardrop against the pale light. Flynn wiped it away with a shaky hand, her fingers trembling as if unable to hold onto the emotion any longer.

The pain became familiar, like a melody that played on repeat, suffocating any hope of happiness.

As she stared at the photograph once more, Flynn's lips curled into a sad smile – a bittersweet remembrance of a hopeless love that had once burned bright, only to fade into the obscurity of lies.

In the quiet of that dark room, Flynn's heartache hung heavy, a reminder that even in the deepest of shadows, there can still be moments of painful beauty and cathartic release.

Flynn finally accepted that she had failed, and she needed help, professional help.

INT. THERAPIST'S OFFICE - DAY

The office is cosy and inviting, adorned with soothing colors and tasteful artwork. A plush couch is positioned across from a comfortable armchair. Flynn sits on the couch, pale-faced, fidgeting with her hands. Her Aramis early 40s, calm and empathetic sits in the armchair, ready to listen.

He says calmly, "Welcome, Flynn. I'm Aramis. It's nice to meet you."

Flynn, (nervously) "Hi... thanks for seeing me. I'm not sure how this works."

Aramis smiled "That's perfectly alright. Therapy is a safe space for you to share and explore your thoughts and feelings. You're in control here. Why don't we start by you telling me a bit about why you've decided to seek therapy?"

Flynn takes a deep breath, her eyes welling up with tears.

Flynn (struggling) "I've been... feeling really overwhelmed. My mind is like a whirlwind, and I can't seem to escape my thoughts. It's affecting my sleep, my relationships, everything."

Aramis nodded in consolation. "It sounds like you've been carrying a heavy burden. Let's take it step by step. Can you describe what these thoughts are like?"

FLYNN (teary-eyed) "It's like... a constant stream of worries. About the past, the future, everything. I keep replaying mistakes I've made, and I'm terrified of what might happen next. Sometimes, I feel like I'm drowning in my head."

Aramis tries to calm her down. "I'm here to help you untangle those thoughts, Flynn. It's normal to feel overwhelmed but remember, you have the strength to face these challenges. Let's work together to find some clarity.

Her voice quivered in a mixture of tears and laughter; merely putting her thoughts together sent her down to a frenzy of temporal insanity. "OH... doctor, kick back and let me tell you how much of a monster I've been."

Aramis stared at her in wonder, awaiting her outpour of emotions as it was considered healthy. Flynn began her confession; she left no stone unturned, every appalling detail, especially the part where she constantly slept with her husband's brother even after he caught them and even after they got engaged which led to her husband's brother committing suicide on the day, she wedded her husband; expressed how she didn't deserve to be happy and how her pitiful fate befits her for all the wrong she's done. Aramis felt sorry for her, although her admittance to her wrongs and shortcomings is a good sign of her healing journey.

"What do you think you'd have done differently?" Aramis asked while jotting some things down. Flynn sighed, "I wish I never married Keith,"

Keith sat alone in his room, surrounded by a dim glow from a single lamp. The silence of the room amplified the ache in his heart. Memories flooded his mind, filling him with a mix of longing and regret.

His gaze fixed on a photograph of him and Athenaïs, captured during happier times. The sight of her radiant smile brought forth a bittersweet wave of emotions. Determination began to well within him, and he clenched his fist, channelling his resolve.

"I won't let our love slip away," Keith whispered, his voice wavering with determination. "I need to find her and win her heart back."

He reached for a blank sheet of paper and with trembling hands, picked up a pen. Thoughts and emotions swirled inside him, craving an outlet. As he started to write, the ink flowed onto the page, capturing his deepest desires and intentions.

"I will search for Athenaïs," Keith declared, his voice filled with unwavering determination. "I'll apologize for my mistakes, show her I've changed, and fight to reignite the love that still burns within me."

The words etched onto the paper became a personal manifesto, a roadmap to his soul. Each sentence, each heartfelt promise, imbued him with a renewed sense of purpose. Keith knew that this journey wouldn't be easy; it would require patience, vulnerability, and endless effort. But he was willing to give it his all.

Placing the pen down, he stared at his written declaration. The weight of his words settled on his shoulders, intertwining with the hope that pulsed through his being. Keith knew he had a long road ahead, but he was resolved to take the first steps.

Standing up, he glanced at their photograph one last time before dialling his PI's number.