Dr Rivera goes in the next day

Valeria – The next Morning

The morning sun came in through the windshield as Valeria drove, one hand loosely holding the steering wheel, the other resting in her lap, fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. She didn’t know why she was so tense. Or rather, she did. But didn’t want to know.

Chase had called her in super early. She hadn’t told Diego where she was going. Not that he’d asked. He’d barely looked at her during breakfast. A good thing, really. She couldn’t stand the disappointment in his eyes. Couldn’t bear to see the hurt she didn’t quite remember causing.

“Focus,” she whispered to herself.

It was just a check-in. That’s all. Just… a follow-up session. Chase had a way of helping her work through her guilt. And there was so much of it. The failures. The indulgences. The softness. He was right—she had been too soft with Diego. It was why he was so fragile. So unprepared for the world. She was only doing what was necessary. What a good mother would do.

The Whitmore estate came into view. She pulled into the circular driveway, her heart thudding like she was the one being sent to the principal’s office.

She parked her car.

Her hands stayed clenched around the wheel for a moment longer.

Then, with a deep breath, Valeria stepped out of the car.

The Whitmore foyer was silent save for the soft tick of the grandfather clock. She entered quietly—heels clicking against marble, shoulders tense beneath her tailored blazer. Her blouse was just a little too tight. She hadn’t noticed that when she’d left the house, but now it felt…correct.

Chase was on the couch, legs kicked up, arms sprawled along the backrest like he owned the place.

“Good morning, Dr. Rivera,” he said, flashing that easy, infuriating smile. “Sleep well?”

Valeria nodded, unsure if she had or not. “I… thought we were meeting at 10?”

He waved his hand dismissively. “Schedules change. And today, I figured we’d try something new. A little trip down memory lane.”

Valeria blinked. “Memory lane?”

He patted the cushion beside him. “Come. Sit.”

She hesitated—but only briefly.

Her heels clicked softly as she crossed the room, sinking down beside him like a well-trained puppy. Chase’s hand rested gently on her shoulder, warm and firm.

“Take a breath,” he said. “Let it out.”

She did. Slowly.

“Again. That’s it. Let the tension melt out of you. Let my voice be the only thing that matters.”

The world around her began to soften.

“Close your eyes. There you go. You’re safe here, Valeria. You trust me, don’t you?”

“…Yes.”

“Good. Let’s play a game. You’re thirty-six, right?”

She nodded.

“I’m going to count backwards. Each number, a year peeled away. With each number, I want you to tell me the strongest memory from that age. And when you do, you’re going to let it go. Like dust blown off an old photo. Do you understand?”

“…Yes.”

“Good girl.”

She shivered at the words, a shiver running up her pussy.

“Thirty-six.”

Valeria’s brows furrowed slightly. “Slapping Diego.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

“Wrong,” she whispered. “But… necessary.”

“Let it go. Thirty-five.”

“Conference in New York. I… gave a keynote.”

“Erase it.”

“Thirty-four.”

“I met someone. Briefly. It didn’t last.”

“Gone.”

Her voice quieter with each answer, each memory that got erased made her lighter. Chase’s voice smoother. Lower. Deeper.

“Twenty-six.”

“I gave birth to Diego.”

She paused.

“That one’s hard, isn’t it?” Chase murmured, brushing her hair behind her ear. “But you can let it go too. You’re more than a mother. Let it fade.”

She breathed. Shaky. ****.

Then whispered, “…gone.”

Chase smiled. Continuing to count down the ages.

“Eighteen.”

“Medical school. I was… driven.”

“Forget." Chase commanded.

With each number Chase seemed to grow bolder, as he knew that his goal wasn’t far away.

“Thirteen.”

“I kissed a girl. My best friend.”

“Sweet. But useless. Let it fade.”

“Ten.”

“First award. A math competition.”

“Gone.” Chase announced with a sadistic smile.

Her posture sagged. Her breath had slowed. Each number brought a little more slack to her face, her voice. She was drifting now, untethered, suspended in the endless dark void of Chase’s words.

“Five.”

“Lost my first tooth.”

“Forget.”

“Three.”

“Daddy sang to me.”

“Forget him.”

“T-wwo” she mumbled.

“Let it go.” He was almost there.

“One.”

“I learned to grab at things.”

“Let it all go.” Chase loudly said as he placed his hand on Valeria’s eyes covering them completely.

Silence.

Her lips curled into a soft, vacant smile. Eyes closed. Head tilted slightly. An empty slate.

“Perfect,” Chase whispered.

His voice dropped lower, more intimate now as he brushed her forehead with his hand.

“An empty slate.”

Chase watched her for a long moment—silent, still, pliable. Her chest rose and fell in soft, even rhythm, the ghost of that empty smile still tugging at her lips. Her features, so often sharp and commanding, now looked serene. Devoid of purpose. Wiped clean. Ready.

A blank canvas.

Chase was going to rebuild her. Brick by brick.