True Affliction - Chapter 2

That was hardly the sort of answer one expected from an ordinary person.

Then again, I could hardly imagine being this affected by an ordinary person. We had clearly moved well beyond the boundaries of ordinary.

The way he watches me, making no attempt to conceal how much he is enjoying my discomfort, pushes me even further off balance. But, I take my time studying him properly. His exceptional physique gives little away, but the faint lines at the corners of his eyes offer some indication of his age. Mid to late thirties, perhaps.

There is no wedding ring on his hand.

I am still trying to gather my thoughts and decide how to respond, while wondering why I am looking for a wedding ring in the first place, when Maya intervenes.

“Mr Ashcroft is requesting an urgent appointment today. He has been particularly insistent about how urgent it is.”

She lowers her voice as if Mr Ashcroft cannot hear every word.

“I told him you had no availability, but apparently it has to be with you.”

I have no idea why he is insisting on seeing me.

I know I have done good work during my brief time at the clinic, but I have not yet acquired the kind of reputation that sends desperate strangers marching through the door and demanding appointments with me specifically.

Mr Ashcroft continues observing us, or rather me, with quiet amusement.

I force myself to respond. Politely, this time. Ideally using a complete sentence.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe it will be possible to offer you an appointment today. Once you have completed the form, Maya will contact you.”

His eyes appear to be fixed on my lips.

Unless I am imagining it.

“What a shame,” he says. “I was under the impression that you were free this evening.”

He cannot possibly be suggesting that I see him tonight.

Heat spreads from my scalp downwards.

“Sessions cannot be arranged outside the clinic’s working hours,” I reply, more sharply than I intend. “Please complete the form for a later appointment, Mr Ashcroft.”

He purses his lips, as if conceding a minor defeat.

“Very well.”

He takes the form Maya is still holding out to him in a state of near paralysis. From the inside pocket of his jacket, he produces an expensive-looking fountain pen and begins filling it in.

I hear him murmuring as he works through the questions.

“Previous therapy. One, unsuccessful. Family history. Irrelevant. Age. Also irrelevant. Address.-.”

When he finishes, he offers the form to me.

“There. I believe I can have an appointment now.”

He winks.

This man has somehow made me forget how one is supposed to speak to patients.

“Not today, but we’ll contact you with the earliest available appointment. Won’t we, Maya?”

I look to Maya for rescue, but she appears incapable of rescuing herself.

Mr Ashcroft continues undressing me with his eyes while I concentrate on looking anywhere but at him.

I cannot give this man an appointment.

I cannot do anything while I am this affected by him. The small part of my brain that remains functional recognises how profoundly unethical it would be.

Yet he continues watching me as if he is waiting for something, trying to see through me.

There can be no session, Mr Ashcroft.

Especially if you continue looking at me like that.

He swallows lightly before speaking in that compelling voice again.

Even his throat is attractive.

I cannot believe my own thoughts. It is as like he has located a switch inside me that I did not know existed.

“I’m sure you could create an opening now without troubling Maya any further.”

That was far too easy.

Especially when I have already lost possession of most of my rational faculties.

Do you honestly believe I can remember my own diary while you are standing there, Mr Ashcroft?

I pull myself together and say the one thing I absolutely should not say.

“We could arrange an initial session for Friday afternoon. That is my earliest opening.”

I never see clients on Friday afternoons. I reserve that time to complete my notes.

Maya knows this, judging by the expression of astonishment on her face.

Mr Ashcroft looks at me as if I have delivered terrible news.

“Friday is a very long way away, Doctor. Waiting that long to see you will be devastating.”

“It is the best I can offer.”

His response is immediate.

“For now.”

Heat rushes through my body.

I want to go somewhere private and splash cold water over my face. More importantly, I want to escape whatever spell he appears to have cast over me.

Why did I agree?

I should never have agreed.

“Are you all right, Doctor? You look rather flushed.”

I feel as if I have run up several flights of stairs, but I force myself to answer.

“This is only an initial session, so I can determine whether I am able to help you. It does not mean we will continue working together.”

Disappointment flickers across his face, but it disappears almost immediately.

“What a pity. I’m quite certain we’ll be working together for a very long time.”

He does not look away from me for a single second.

I cannot tolerate this pull for much longer.

What am I going to do on Friday?

I am completely screwed.

Maya has been watching us from behind the reception desk and finally manages to come to my rescue.

“Claire will be here in a moment. Shall I take her straight through to your office?”

“Yes. Of course. We’re already running late. Please bring her in.”

I give Mr Ashcroft a restrained nod.

“Mr Ashcroft.”

His eyes smile at me. He has the air of a rogue disguised as a gentleman.

“We’ll leave it there for now, Doctor.”

I turn towards the corridor.

The heel of my stiletto catches on the edge of the soft beige carpet.

I stumble.

Before I can fall, Mr Ashcroft catches me from behind.

He pulls me against the hard wall of his chest, strong arms closing around me as he steadies my body.

I can feel every solid line of him.

His scent. His closeness. His hands.

He seems to have been created for the sole purpose of ruining my judgement.

My fingers have closed around his arms in my effort to keep myself upright. Even after the danger has passed, he does not release me.

Instead, he lowers his head until his mouth is close to my ear.

“Careful, Doctor,” he whispers. “I need my therapist in one piece.”

Then, with entirely unnecessary slowness, he lets me go.

He turns and begins walking towards the clinic entrance.

I remain where I am, consumed by heat and a pleasant, unfamiliar sensation low in my stomach.

I cannot take my eyes off him.

He reaches the door with the long, assured stride of a model and turns back towards me.

“I look forward to Friday, Caitríona.”

Behind the reception desk, Maya appears to be on the verge of collapse.

Just as Mr Ashcroft leaves, Claire walks through the door.

Unfortunately, Claire’s curious expression is not enough to restore either of us to normality.

Neither Maya nor I seem capable of greeting her.

Eventually, Maya finds her voice.

“Oh my God. What was that? He was practically devouring you with his eyes, Cait.”

Claire looks between us, trying to make sense of the scene, while I attempt to extinguish the flames.

“I’m going to tell him on Friday that I can’t continue working with him.”

Maya looks surprised, although she knows perfectly well that it is the only sensible decision.

Claire appears to have gathered enough information to join the conversation.

“Good morning to you too, girls. Was that gentleman your new patient?”

Maya and I turn towards her at the same time.

“Yes!” we say, far too loudly.

My palms have begun to perspire.

Maya continues as if I am no longer present.

“That gentleman specifically requested Cait. Apparently, he has an urgent need for her. An extremely urgent need.”

Claire gives a quiet laugh.

Maya has finally returned to her usual settings.

“You cannot possibly have missed the attraction between you, Cait. There was enough sexual energy in this room to power the clinic.”

I respond without thinking, because if I stopped to think, I might be forced to agree with her.

“There absolutely was not.”

“Let’s hope Tom never hears about it,” Claire says with a laugh.

Tom.

Just as I am wondering what I have forgotten, his name brings everything rushing back.

I need to speak to him.

I add that to my mental list and accompany Claire into my office.

The familiar, soothing scent of the room settles my nerves slightly.

I excuse myself and go to wash my hands and face.

The Caitríona staring back at me from the mirror is deeply flushed, her green eyes brighter than usual.

How has he managed to reduce me to this state in a matter of minutes?

I look as if I have just had exceptionally good sex.

I remain at the sink for a moment, trying to erase the sensation of his body against my back and every curve of mine.

When I remember that Claire is waiting, I return to the office.

Perhaps I am only this affected because our encounter was so brief.

Perhaps, once I conduct the session on Friday and learn something real about him, I will be able to free myself from this ridiculous fascination.

Or perhaps the opposite will happen.

Perhaps learning more about him will only make it worse.

The safest decision would be to refuse him another session.

It would also be the most ethical one.

Claire and I begin our appointment. She tells me about her week while I take notes and ask the usual questions. She understands the structure of therapy so well that our sessions never exhaust me.

Before leaving, she even gives me the telephone number of a trainer who might be able to help with Nounou.

Our appointments have become more like conversations than clinical sessions. I know it would be inappropriate to share details about my own life, but Claire has made it perfectly clear from the beginning that she no longer comes here solely for therapy.

She reaches the door, then looks back at me.

“That new patient seems to have disturbed your equilibrium.”

She winks and leaves me alone.

What is that supposed to mean?

What am I going to do until Friday?

I do not want to admit it, but perhaps Mr Ashcroft was right.

Friday suddenly feels very far away.

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And that’s Chapter Two 🖤

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