Chapter 153

Philip's POV

I stormed back to my office immediately after the confrontation with Annie and Howard, slamming the door behind me with enough force to rattle the framed certificates on the wall. Collapsing into my leather chair, I loosened my tie with trembling fingers, feeling as if it were choking me.

The video exposing my mother's behavior played on a continuous loop in my mind. Betty Baker, the sophisticated Upper East Side socialite,speaking so callously about Annie, her words dripping with contempt and judgment. And Howard's suggestion-"I recommend you see a therapist"-stunglike a thorn embedded deep in my pride.

I reached for my phone and dialed my mother's number before I could reconsider. She answered almost immediately.

"Philip. it's you." Mother's voice sounded more high-pitched than usual,with an unmistakable edge of agitation.

"Mother, I've just seen what's happening online," I said, struggling to keep my voice steady. "What's going on?"

"Hmph!" She let out a dismissive snort. "I merely spoke the truth. Thato country girl from Boston never understood our rules! How could she possibly be worthy of the Baker family? I was only trying to educate her,but she was completely ungrateful!"

I massaged my temple, feeling a wave of exhaustion wash over me."Mother,are you aware that everyone online is supporting Annie?" A few seconds of silence followed from the other end.

"What?" Betty's voice suddenly became shrill, and I could imagine her perfectly composed face contorting with shock. "How dare they?!Everything I did was for the Baker family's reputation!"

Then, her voice abruptly cracked, dissolving into something close to tears."Philip, all my social invitations have been canceled! Even Mrs. Morgan sent me a message saying I'd better not attend tonight's charity gala! My standing in the Upper East Side has crumbled overnight-a lifetime's reputation destroyed in an instant! You must help me! That Annie must be orchestrating all this behind the scenes!"

The fear and resentment in her voice were palpable, almost tangible. "I will never forgive her! Never!"

"I'll handle it, Mother," I responded mechanically,though I had absolutely no idea how to manage this storm.

After hanging up, I slumped in my chair, staring at the financial reports spread across my deskthat suddenly seemed entirely meaningless. The image of Annie walking away hand-in-hand with Howard, completely unfazed by my threats, kept flashing through my mind.

Could the problem actually be me? This question refused to leave my thoughts until I finally picked up my phone and searched for a highly-rated psychological counseling center.

I arrived twenty minutes before my scheduled appointment, surprising even myself with this sense of urgency. The waiting room was tastefully decorated in minimalist style, with abstract art adorning the walls-clearly designed to soothe anxious patients. I was the only one waiting, my knee bouncing nervously. The receptionist eventually led me into Dr. Matthews' office-a space much smaller than I had anticipated, with one wall lined with bookshelves and another featuring large windows overlooking the city skyline. Dr.Matthews was a man in his fifties with salt-and-pepper hair at his temples and thin-framed glasses, sitting at his desk eating lunch.

"Mr. Baker. I wasn't expecting you quite so early," he said,clearly surprised by my presence.

"I know," I stood awkwardly in the doorway. "If you need to finish your lunch. I can wait outside."

"No, please come in," he gestured to a leather chair opposite his desk. "I just wasn't expecting you so soon."

I watched him glance between me and his lunch, obviously caught in an uncomfortable situation. "I just needed to confirm whether there's actually something wrong with me, so I had to see you, to make sure."

Dr. Matthews looked at his lunch, his expression conflicted. "Would you mind if I finish eating first?"

"Please do," I nodded, somewhat relieved at the temporary reprieve from explaining my situation.

Several minutes later, once his food container was empty, he set it aside,picked up a notepad, and focused his full attention on me. "So, what do you believe is your problem?"

The directness of the question caught me off guard. "I believe I love Annie,"I said, the words feeling foreign on my tongue, "but no one around me agrees with that. Not even Annie herself can feel my affection for her."

Dr. Matthews made no comment but pulled out a set of assessment forms from his desk. "Before we discuss further,could you fill out these questionnaires? They'll help me better understand your situation."

For the next twenty minutes, I answered numerous questions about my interpersonal relationships, emotional responses, and behaviors. Many questions made me uncomfortable, forcing me to confront aspects of my interactions with Annie and Sarah that I had never carefully examined before.

When I finished, Dr. Matthews carefully reviewed my answers,then looked up at me. "Mr. Baker, your situation doesn't necessarily constitute a psychological disorder. It seems more like a cognitive bias in your approach to relationships."

"What do you mean?" I frowned.

"Based on your responses," he continued cautiously, "you appear to be someone who places great importance on self-image. Sarah was once your first love-what people often call a 'white moonlight'-and she remains your friend. You very much want to prove to her that you're doing well,that her decision to leave you was a mistake, which is why you're particularly generous around her."

His words touched an uncomfortable chord deep within me.

"This behavior isn't love in the traditional sense; it's more accurately a.combination of unresolved emotions and competitive desire." He adjusted his glasses. "As for Annie, she supported you on your journey from having nothing to your current success. You became accustomed to her frugality, and even when your financial situation improved, your thinking remained fixated on how Sarah rejected you for your lack of money.This unconsciously created a desire to tightly control finances." "You assumed Anmnie would continue to love you and stay with you regardless. This suggests that what you felt before your divorce wasn't love.but dependence on her contributions." Dr. Matthews looked directly at me.

"Generally. when people achieve success, they typically want their spouse to enjoy the improved lifestyle together. Your financial stinginess with Annie suggests a lack of genuine feeling."

His words hit me like a physical blow. I had never considered my behavior from this perspective. "What about after the divorce?" I asked,my voice sounding strained.

"Are you willing to spend money on Annie now?" Dr. Matthews didn't answer directly but posed another question.

The question caught me unprepared. I found myself genuinely thinking:how much would I be willing to give her? What amount feels appropriate?The fact that I was calculating rather than responding emotionally seemed telling in itself.

"You feel pain seeing her with Howard," Dr. Matthews pointed out, "how does that compare to how you felt about marrying Sarah? Which situation causes you greater emotional distress?"

I suddenly realized I had never compared these scenarios.

"When you honestly answer these questions,you need to determine if your desire for reconciliation with Annie stems from genuine love, or merely resentment at seeing her flourish without you." Dr. Matthews leaned forward slightly, "Or perhaps you simply miss the comfort her care provided, but are only willing to value that care at a housekeeper's salary.Theextra money, you'd rather keep entirely for yourself."

"Once you answer these questions honestly. you'll understand your true feelings for Annie, without needing me to tell you."

"Thank you." I said quietly, rising to leave, my mind already beginning to process the implications of everything he had said.

The conversation with Dr. Matthews clarified one thing: I didn't actually love Sarah.

But what about Annie?

If what the psychologist implied was true, then I had never truly loved Annie-I had only valued her for what she could do for me. This realization was disturbing, forcing me to reconsider what kind of person I was.

I picked up my phone and scrolled to Annie's contact. My thumb hovered over her name for a long moment before I set the phone down again.What could I possibly say to her? That I might have been wrong about my own feelings all along? That Howard's assessment of me was potentially accurate?