woman six hours prior. If I was going to feel guilty about anything, it should be the fact that I still had Juliet’s scent all over me when I met up with Madison. But with Juliet, it was just sex—with Madison, it was…more.
So the obvious answer here would be to tell Ms. Harte to hit the road and see where things go with Madison. But I can’t—sex without strings is so much easier than a relationship. And I have a feeling a relationship with Madison wouldn’t be smooth sailing, as call it doctor’s intuition, but I think she has some serious baggage buried underneath her sweet smile.
So what do I want? Sex? Or a possible relationship? Because at the moment, I’m currently presented with both options, but I don’t know which I want more.
I know this all stems from my damaging breakup with Lily the bitch. But I am as much to blame as she is. No, I never forced her to fuck my best friend, but I never dealt with my emotional scars at the time, and now look what I’ve turned into—a commitment phobe.
Massaging my temples, I really am in no state of mind to be counseling anyone today. The wise thing to do would be to take the afternoon off. Just as I’m about to call Ms. Vale and ask her to cancel the rest of my appointments, she buzzes me through the intercom.
“Dr. Mathews,” she frantically says, which is very uncharacteristic of her.
“Yes, Ms. Vale?” I quickly reply. “Is everything okay?”
“Dr. Mathews, a patient who doesn’t have an appointment insists on seeing you.”
I hear Susanna cover the receiver and address whoever is outside, making it quite clear she’ll have to make an appointment if she wishes to see me.
“Oh, stop right there! Miss, you can’t go in there,” Susanna states, and before I know what’s happening, my office door flies open and in charges a hysterical Juliet.
Susanna is chasing after her, her face filled with irritation and concern, but I wave her off, as Juliet looks like hell.
“I’m so sorry, Dr. Mathews! She just barged in here,” Susanna apologizes, while glaring at a sobbing Juliet.
“It’s fine, Ms. Vale. Please shut the door on your way out.”
She looks at me, slightly confused, but she does as I ask, as she knows I don’t mince my words. The moment the door closes, I stand behind my desk, watching Juliet as she weeps uncontrollably. I stand motionless, as I don’t know what to do.
Professionally, I’m not to hug or canoodle her, as I’m not her friend. I’m not here to cuddle her and tell her everything will be all right. But as her lover, that’s exactly what I should be doing. And this is why you do not get involved with your patients.
“Juliet, is everything okay?” I ask, still standing behind my desk, using it as a barrier between us.
“What does it look like? No, everything is not fucking okay!” she cries, her tear-stained eyes meeting mine.
Clearing my throat and adjusting my tie, I round my table and point to the sofa.
“Please, take a seat.”
“I’m not here to get fucking psychoanalyzed, Dixon.” But she thankfully slumps onto the couch, and her sniffles lessen.
Taking a seat near her, I place my palm on her bare knee. “What’s happened? Why are you so upset?”
“No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be good enough,” she whispers, her lip trembling as she lowers her face.
“Good enough for whom?” I gently ask.
“For…anybody,” she replies, and her slight pause has me wondering what she originally wanted to say.
“That’s not true,” I rebuke. “You just have to believe in yourself, Juliet. I know how messed up that sounds, considering our current circumstances. But any man would be lucky to have your affections.”
“You think?” She sniffs, raising her face.
“I know,” I confirm. “All these awards on my walls confirm I know what I’m talking about,” I add with a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
Thankfully she laughs, and reaches into her clutch for a tissue. As she
So the obvious answer here would be to tell Ms. Harte to hit the road and see where things go with Madison. But I can’t—sex without strings is so much easier than a relationship. And I have a feeling a relationship with Madison wouldn’t be smooth sailing, as call it doctor’s intuition, but I think she has some serious baggage buried underneath her sweet smile.
So what do I want? Sex? Or a possible relationship? Because at the moment, I’m currently presented with both options, but I don’t know which I want more.
I know this all stems from my damaging breakup with Lily the bitch. But I am as much to blame as she is. No, I never forced her to fuck my best friend, but I never dealt with my emotional scars at the time, and now look what I’ve turned into—a commitment phobe.
Massaging my temples, I really am in no state of mind to be counseling anyone today. The wise thing to do would be to take the afternoon off. Just as I’m about to call Ms. Vale and ask her to cancel the rest of my appointments, she buzzes me through the intercom.
“Dr. Mathews,” she frantically says, which is very uncharacteristic of her.
“Yes, Ms. Vale?” I quickly reply. “Is everything okay?”
“Dr. Mathews, a patient who doesn’t have an appointment insists on seeing you.”
I hear Susanna cover the receiver and address whoever is outside, making it quite clear she’ll have to make an appointment if she wishes to see me.
“Oh, stop right there! Miss, you can’t go in there,” Susanna states, and before I know what’s happening, my office door flies open and in charges a hysterical Juliet.
Susanna is chasing after her, her face filled with irritation and concern, but I wave her off, as Juliet looks like hell.
“I’m so sorry, Dr. Mathews! She just barged in here,” Susanna apologizes, while glaring at a sobbing Juliet.
“It’s fine, Ms. Vale. Please shut the door on your way out.”
She looks at me, slightly confused, but she does as I ask, as she knows I don’t mince my words. The moment the door closes, I stand behind my desk, watching Juliet as she weeps uncontrollably. I stand motionless, as I don’t know what to do.
Professionally, I’m not to hug or canoodle her, as I’m not her friend. I’m not here to cuddle her and tell her everything will be all right. But as her lover, that’s exactly what I should be doing. And this is why you do not get involved with your patients.
“Juliet, is everything okay?” I ask, still standing behind my desk, using it as a barrier between us.
“What does it look like? No, everything is not fucking okay!” she cries, her tear-stained eyes meeting mine.
Clearing my throat and adjusting my tie, I round my table and point to the sofa.
“Please, take a seat.”
“I’m not here to get fucking psychoanalyzed, Dixon.” But she thankfully slumps onto the couch, and her sniffles lessen.
Taking a seat near her, I place my palm on her bare knee. “What’s happened? Why are you so upset?”
“No matter how hard I try, I’ll never be good enough,” she whispers, her lip trembling as she lowers her face.
“Good enough for whom?” I gently ask.
“For…anybody,” she replies, and her slight pause has me wondering what she originally wanted to say.
“That’s not true,” I rebuke. “You just have to believe in yourself, Juliet. I know how messed up that sounds, considering our current circumstances. But any man would be lucky to have your affections.”
“You think?” She sniffs, raising her face.
“I know,” I confirm. “All these awards on my walls confirm I know what I’m talking about,” I add with a small smile, hoping to lighten the mood.
Thankfully she laughs, and reaches into her clutch for a tissue. As she
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