The billionaire's sweet editor
Chapter 25: Lucas: Men and their pickles

Chapter 25: Lucas: Men and their pickles

"COGNITIVE BEHAVIORAL therapy might work on her," Doctor William, the therapist I just got introduced to by Diana—our family doctor—says. After Diana gave me an ointment for my throbbing ass I took the chance and asked her if there was a way to cure one’s fear of the dark.

"Do you have nyctophobia, Lucas?" She asked in that comforting motherly voice of hers, a voice that doesn’t in the slightest bit match her image.

Even though she’s turning thirty-eight soon, her looks are way beyond human nature. She’s aging slowly like a vampire, and so is her body. If I had a thing for older women she’d surely have been the first person on my hit list, but I don’t so we’re good.

"No, but my—" I paused glancing at the door. Should I introduce her as my girlfriend to my doctor or is she going to get mad at me for that? "My friend might."

"You mean the girl outside?"

I slowly nodded at her commentary, adjusting myself in my seat and returning to business. "So?"

"Yes, there is a scientifically proven way to cure nyctophobia, but you’ll need a therapist for that. I can recommend the one I know for you if you like—"

"She doesn’t know I’m asking you guys about this," I cut her, placing my hands on her desk. It’s clear and organized, just like her—a contrast to mine which is probably full of magazines and stacks of scribbled papers right now. "I want to help her without offending her, and that means I need to do this in silence if that’s possible."

Diana eyed me for what felt like an eternity, fingers playing with her pen as the silence stretched on. "I’ll ask if there’s a solution to that, but I advise you to ask for her consent soon if you don’t want her hating you in the future."

Now that grabbed my attention. "You think she will?"

"I’d hate it if it happened to me," she replied, typing something into her phone and placing it on her ears. As the phone rang, I couldn’t sit still, not when what she just said kept replaying in my mind.

In the end, I excused myself, leaving Diana to attend to her call and heading down the small corridor towards the wooden bench where I left Iris and Paul. But when I tried telling her what I was planning on doing, the truth refused to come out of my mouth.

Why you may ask? Simple. Iris looked pissed. Her answers were icy and cold, and so was her tone. Even Paul seemed on edge sitting a considerable distance away from her with half his bum. If I wasn’t as scared as him, I would have laughed at him, but Iris seemed angrier with me than him.

I did fuck up her morning with my bitter speech, but I thought after our car ride here when she let me rest on her lap, we were good. So what the fuck is going on now?

Ugh, so fucking stressful.

"Lucas, are you listening?" Diana claps her hands in front of me a few times before I snap back to our video call with Doctor Williams.

"Sorry, I’m just not in my right mind at the moment."

"Then we better cancel this call or you’ll use the wrong techniques on your girlfriend and end up hurting her."

I want to protest that she’s not my girlfriend, but I leave it at that. "No, please continue, I’ll pay attention from now on."

"Promise?" Doctor Williams asks.

"Promise."

"Okay, so as I was saying, cognitive behavioral therapy might be of use if you want to help her without telling her you are, although it needs a professional or someone with utmost care and attention to detail before being practiced."

"Trust me, he’s the last guy you’ll need to worry about when it comes to attention to detail," Diana spouts in her sarcastic tone. "He’s a fucking perfectionist."

I chuckle. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

"Be happy because that might just be your key to helping your wife’s fear of the dark."

"Wife?"

Turning away from the tablet, Diana clears her throat and gestures for me to look at her. "I might’ve just told him she’s your lover and he took it the wrong way," she whispers.

Diana! I whine in my head.

"You said she used to have a therapist right?"

"Yes?"

"I need to talk to her to see how far she’s come, so please try and convince her to come for a therapy session."

"I’ll try," I reply, already doubting my words.

"Good. But for now, we’ll have to try doing exposure therapy with her. It’s a process where you’ll need to gradually expose her to the feared situation, in this case, the dark, so that she can learn to reduce anxiety and build confidence when a blackout happens again." I nod at him. "Don’t just do it on a whim like turning off the lights at your house intentionally as this may worsen her fear. Instead, try going to a dim place and gradually increase the dimness until she can handle the dark, okay?"

"Yes, doc."

Leaning back into his seat and revealing a potion of his background, a ground outstretching over the horizon of his large windows that looks like a golf course, Dr Williams adjusts his glasses. "Do you know how it started, the nyctophobia I mean?"

I want to lie to him, but something about him tells me if I do, he’ll know. "She’s had a traumatic experience when she was seven."

"Oh," is all he says about it before changing the topic almost immediately. "I’m pretty sure the therapy you mentioned must have helped, but if the fear is traumatic, she might not have had enough sessions. Try talking her into getting more therapy sessions, it’s for her own good."

"I will Doc."

He shuffles closer to the camera blocking his gorgeous view from us. "That said, Doctor Diana here will give you my business card. If you ever need my help, I’m always available to talk."

I nod. "I will definitely contact you."

"I’ll gladly wait for that moment. Until then, I’ll talk to you later," he waves, doing a peace sign before the call disconnects. I heave a huge sigh.

How the hell am I going to tell Iris to restart therapy without offending her? I already did that earlier, doing it again might be the catalyst needed for her to finally lose it.

★★★★★

Cute, cute. So fucking cute!

That’s the only word that pops into my mind when I walk in on Iris stuffing her mouth full of a burger. She looks like a chipmunk, with both cheeks puffed out and full as she chews that burger, swallowing it with so much gusto I smile at her.

If it weren’t for the depressing air around the hospital, or Paul sitting next to her on that wooden bench, smiling the same way I’m doing, I don’t know what I’d have done or said to her by now.

Paul freaking adores her, it’s so evident in his eyes. He rarely smiles, so there’s that too. I don’t know what bonding session the two of them took, but I’m starting to get a little jealous. I think I’ll be fuming by the time we get home because she promised to kiss him too as a thank-you token.

He is the first to notice me standing by the corner, blending with the white walls and he immediately goes back to being the sculpture I’ve always known since hiring him.

"You’re back," he exclaims, already standing and making his way to my side. Almost twice my size and my age, although an inch shorter than me, he is the reliable guy any man would be proud to call a friend. I shouldn’t be jealous that he’s close with Iris because I know for certain he won’t betray me, neither would Tim but damnit, I’m only human.

Not only is it pathetic that I’m getting jealous over a woman who makes it clear she wants nothing to do with me on a personal level, I think I’m falling for her.

Offering Paul a gentle smile and doing my best to hide my thoughts, I move from the wall. "Yes, should we go back or are you two still eating?"

His eyes turn to face Iris who doesn’t seem to give the least fuck that I’m in her presence, opening her mouth wide in the most sexiest way possible, a cute fuckable ’O’ that leaves dirty imagery in my mind. She’s still pissed. That I can tell.

"I will eat when we get home," is all Paul says as he turns back to that fake uninterested expression of his when he clearly wants to rewind time and watch Iris eat again.

Closing the distance between Iris and me, I sit next to her. "Are you done, princess?"

She stops bringing the burger to her mouth, facing me with her mouth still open. My dick won’t fit in there without a little struggling. "Since when did I upgrade from babe to princess?"

"Just now?" I shrug, brushing my perverted thoughts away, "I just felt like calling you that."

A slight blush creeps up her cheeks and she smiles. "The way you flirt makes me doubt you’ve never had a girlfriend before."

Again with this. Paul snorts and I glance at him smiling before turning back to Iris. "Not having a girlfriend doesn’t mean I’ve never had experience with girls."

Iris pauses again. "Hmm, you mean girls like that doctor of yours?"

"What?" Both Paul and I shriek loudly, Paul being the loudest.

Iris chuckles, a chuckle so low it sends goosebumps appearing on my skin. "You were blushing when she told you to follow her to the office, it was pretty clear you like her, or want to fuck her at least."

If pale brown was a person, then right now Paul would be him. I think I’ll call Dr William and book that therapy session after all.

"Men and wanting to stick their pickles everywhere," is all she says before she’s out of the clinic.

★★★★★