Page 68 of Bound By Flames
“Yeah, figured I’d shake his hand and head out to let you both talk it out,” I explain.
“Ok-okay.” She nods, her head falling back like she’s swallowing tears.
“Hey, talk to me, what’s going on?” I urge, not getting this sudden change of heart.
“Could—no really, I’m asking too much of you, it’s—” she mutters.
“Mia, just tell me, princess.”
“You’re really convincing for a fake husband…that’s all.” Her voice breaks with sadness. Grabbing the side of her throat gently, I step closer, her little body still sitting on the stool as I force her to spread her knees to get closer. Then, because I’m just a man who’s been forced to back out for the last hour and my resolve is about to snap, I angle her to look at me and kiss her sweet pouty lips as tenderly as my roughness allows it.
“Is that fake to you?” I demand her, daring her to contradict me.
A trembling exhale escapes her lips. “I think, I think I’d like you to stay.” Her eyes grow watery. “But it won’t be pretty and—”
“I’ll stay,” I grunt, kissing her once more, showing her I’m right fucking here. Her hazelnut eyes widen, her hand naturally rising to my chest, as if we had always done this. Eating together, talking stuff out over breakfast. Like any normalcouple. Pushing her bowl away, she stands and laces her fingers with mines.
“Ready?” I ask her, searching for any hint of panic in her face.
She answers me, nodding with a shy smile, “Ready.”
Chapter 16
Mia
Breathe.
Don’t freak out.
It’s going to be alright.
After exchanging pleasantries with the doctor, we all sat in the living room, Ares on my right on the beige sofa and Dr Ofenhaus in front of us, dressed like a scholar with his navy blue wool jacket and brown pants, the table as the only barrier between me and his skills. I didn’t know what I was expecting, but he’s young, very young, perhaps just a bit older than me. Short brown hair, warm smile, calm voice, and eyes that move fast like a machine registering as much information as possible. Made me think of an eagle right away. Sharp, straight to the point. No bullshit. Now that I think about it, Ares wouldn’t have wanted it any different. He’s like that too. Not the kind to circle around the bushes. His shake was firm, not that I’m the kind of girl to judge a person on the way they shake hands, but in this situation, I kinda am. If I get a “you’re in a safe place” kind of approach, I will land my fist in his face so fast he won’t have the time to see it coming. I don’t want pity. I want help.
Sitting next to Ares, my fingers dig into the cushy fabric of the luxurious sofa. I try to steady my breathing with his protective hand sliding behind my back.
“So, Mia,” the doctor starts, his tone direct, leaning forward. I’m kind of surprised he didn’t lose his shit from the way Ares towered over him like a fighter ready to break the poor guy into pieces. Must be one hell of a doctor.
“Ares told me about your struggles with food. I understand how hard it can be to let someone in on something so personal.”
Wow, as I said, not wasting any time.
The wordfoodsomehow stings, and I feel the panic rising in my throat. My hands begin to shake a bit, but Ares’ touch steadies me as his fingers gently graze mine. I don’t pull away.
Dr Ofenhaus watches me carefully.
He knows.
I nod mechanically, not knowing what to answer to him or how this kind of session is supposed to happen.
“I’m not here to push you more than you can handle, in the same way that I’m not here to judge you or trigger you. I’ve been working with patients for over five years now, all suffering from orthorexia, and most of them recovered, especially the ones who had a strong support system around them.” He glances at Ares in an approbative nod.
“Let’s start simple.” He pauses, sitting back in the chair. “Do you think you could explain to me what it’s like for you to eat outside your home?”
“Outside, you mean, at a restaurant?” I ask.
“Restaurant, friend’s houses, anywhere where you wouldn’t have total control over what you're going to be served.” His fingers cross like a pyramid.
Ares's phone vibrates in his pocket, but he ignores it.
