“You’re not alone in this, Mia. I’ve been treating patients in the exact same condition as you for years, and from what I cantell, you’ve got all the cards in hand to heal. I think the first step we should work on is removing the pressure around food and the rules your mind created about them.”
I nod, though I’m not entirely sure I understand. “What do you mean?”
“It’s about finding a balance,” he explains. “We’ll work on understanding why these rules are in place and how to gradually make changes without feeling like you’re losing control. Most of the time, those rules come from childhood or from significant others who taught us those rules, especially parents, siblings, or even friends. We’ll have to get to the root of it to impact your day-to-day actions.”
I glance at Ares again, who is watching quietly, giving me the space to process. I take a deep breath. “When—when can we start?”
The doctor smiles. “We’ve already started, and you’re doing great, if I may say so.”
I glance at Ares, pride pouring out of his gorgeous eyes as if he’s seeing me for the first time.
“We can start with a session a week and adjust depending on your progress,” Dr Ofenhaus says calmly. “This is a process. It’s about gradual change, not perfection. You’ll set the pace, and we’ll adapt as needed.”
I exhale slowly, feeling a bit more at ease with his approach. “Okay, yes, that makes sense.”
“Until next week, we could set a small challenge for you, and you'd tell me next time how it went.”
“Like what?”
“You could try a bite of something that is a little bit outside your comfort zone, like a piece of candy, for example? Or a juice from the store, not a fresh pressed one?” he suggests.
“Um…, okay.” My voice falters at the idea of it.
“It's up to you, Mia, no pressure. Perhaps you could just look at it and take notes on how you feel and we would work on that for the next session.” He smiles at me gently with no judgment or disdain, and I really appreciate it.
“We'll work on it, doctor. Thank you for coming on such short notice,” says Ares, standing and shaking Dr Ofenhaud's hand.
“Of course, you were rather generous, sir. It’s only fair I'd made myself available for your wife,” the doctor’s voice flinches slightly as if having Ares towering over him was shaking him more than he could admit. I stand and instinctively meander next to Ares, brushing his hand.
“Mia, it was a pleasure to meet you. I look forward to our next session,” says the doctor with a warm smile.
“Thank you, doctor,” I reply. The pulse of my heart is regular compared to the beginning of our session.
“I'll show myself out. Good day.” He nods before turning his back to us and heading to the entryway. Once the doctor is out of the living room and in the hands of Maria, Ares turns to face me, his hands sliding from my hips to my face, his gaze searching mine with an intensity that sends shivers through my spine.
“You did so good, princess. I'm so fucking proud of you.” He kisses my forehead roughly.
I shouldn't care that he's proud of me. But I am, and it makes my belly churn with hot, dripping lava.
“I don't know how to thank you for this,” I tell him, playing with my nail polish.
“You don't have to, never.” He smirks. “In sickness and in health.”
I smile back, fake punching his chest.
“What was that about?” I point at the phone in his pocket.
“Nothing that could be more important than what we were doing.”
Did he ignore important calls just for my sake? Why would he ever do that? The club is his life's work. His number one priority.
Checking his phone quickly, he announces, “Shadow and Ash will be here in an hour. Is that alright with you?”
“Yes, we'll go grab my matcha, and then I have some work calls this morning,” I tell him. “Oh, and I'm going shopping with your sister this afternoon. She needs a new dress for the exhibition she told me about.” Ares frowns.
“What is it?” I ask.
“I don't like when you go out of the house,” he mutters like a caveman.
