"...your therapist?" Elijah responded a beat late, eyes widened slightly.
Eugene glanced at the second-floor gallery, wondering whether it was okay to say this in front of his children—even if they might not understand. But then again, what was wrong with admitting that you seek professional help for your problem? He shouldn't make it a vulgar or taboo topic. He didn't want them to think that going to a psychologist was a shameful thing to do.
"Yes, my therapist suggested that I should try to write how I feel in a journal," Eugene shifted his gaze back to Elijah. "At that time, all I had written was abstract gibberish, sometimes more of scribbles and doodles than anything. Later on, when I got way more stable, I tried reading it again and decided to rewrite it with more...clarity."
The actor gasped, leaning forward in excitement. "Is that the novel?"
