I'm getting married

Ariana’s POV

It happened in the blink of an eye that my heartbeat stopped for a second.

With my eyes widened and my breath sharp, he lifted his eyes.

“Vanilla. Mmmh, so innocent.”

Then he shut his eyes, his brow knitted.

“Beautiful. Soft. Creamy.” He groaned, planting soft kisses on my knuckles, one at a time.

I didn’t know why I stood still, unable to receive alarm signals from my nervous system or maybe it was how soft and gentle his moist lips felt on my skin.

And his words. The way he said them as if memorizing my scent.

I felt something tighten up the flesh between my thighs before it snapped.

Snatching my hand back, I screamed.

“Get off me!”

In a moment, two armed guards burst into the room, straining his arms to the chair.

“Are you okay, Ma'am?” The first one asked.

Then the other one eyed him before asking.

“Should we call for emergency?”

With my palm already flattened against my chest, I caught my breath.

He only sat there. Calm. Nonchalant. Still.

Like he hadn't just caused a commotion.

Like a man who has seen violence a hundred times, the scene bored him to death.

I don't know why, but it made me shiver with every glance I threw at him.

Why does he talk carelessly and touch me like I should want it?

Shaking my head, I told the guards.

“No, it was just a slight touch. I got agitated for no reason.”

I regretted glancing at him because he smirked.

The smirk that says I was a pathetic liar.

The guards reluctantly released his arms, and one of them cowered slightly on meeting his eyes.

Then they disappeared through the door.

I longingly look at the door wishing I could follow suit, but I was the doctor.

“Please have a seat, doc. So sorry. Won't happen again.” He apologized.

But for some reason his tone didn't sound sorry. It sounded like the start of an assault.

One that told me he could go further than this, violate me, and I would want it.

“It'll be best to take this process seriously and focus on your treatment….” I trailed off when I spotted a viper tattoo sprouting up his neck as he rubbed on the spot, clearly uninterested in my sermon.

The viper’s teeth and eyes stared directly into mine, and I shuddered a bit as I took in the details…

It felt like the viper was a picture representation of his personality.

“This assessment will determine the duration of your stay in the hospital and your quick release.” I finished.

He wasn't looking into my eyes this time.

His eyes were fixed on something else. The wall clock in the room.

Was he in a hurry to leave? It wasn't like he stopped by for a session.

He was admitted.

When his eyes found mine, I blinked at the sternness in them.

“Tell me, doc, what will it take for you to believe I'm fine?”

I opened my mouth to say something, but words didn't come out.

“In case your biology teacher didn't tell you, a hard-on is a natural reaction to girls in little skirts like yours, which leads to sex.”

The skin between my eyes folded,

“One more vulgar word from you and this session is over.” I warned.

Realizing it was unprofessional to threaten a patient, I exhaled, brushed a strand behind my ear, and tried to keep my expression neutral.

“What I mean to say is if you'll let me access your body and mind… I stopped allowing the message to sink in.

His smirk returned, his arms squared as he leaned into his seat, his gaze still on me.

“And who gave you the right to access my body and mind?”

“Did you wear that little ironed skirt with your hair packed up like that hoping you'd change the world?”

The sarcasm dripping in his tone made my nose red with embarrassment.

I wasn't going to let him walk all over me like this.

Raising my chin in the air, I brought out my certificate, slapping it in front of him.

“Here's the state and council's approval of my license that gives me the right to access your body and mind.” I huffed.

“Are you satisfied?” I asked, knowing this act of mine was unprofessional and petty.

Again, he succeeded in getting a reaction from me as he barely glanced at my certificate but eyed me as he said,

“Well, I don't mind the assessment if it'll be physical.”

“I also fancy skin-to-skin most times….

“That's it.” I cut him off.

I wasn't going to sit here and get disrespected by this overstimulating man.

If he wanted to piss me off, then he'd done a really good job.

Writing on his assessment review sheet, my pen scribbled on the poor paper aggressively as I put down; Arrogant, unwilling to learn, disobedient to instructions, Passing vulgar comments, harassment and mentally unstable.

With these I was certain he’d be landing in a psych ward any minute from now.

Leaning closer to check the paper,

“Oh my, I hope they're all good things.”

Good things, my foot!

For the first time today I kept his stare as I hit a rough full stop.

Getting up, I grabbed my handbag and hit the desk with my palm one last time before stomping out.

All the while his calculative gray eyes followed my movement, his lips twisting, his Adam's apple bobbing like I was the most entertaining thing he'd seen today…

“It was really nice to meet you.”

“See you on the outside, doc.” He called after me, and I stopped to give him a scowl before I left.

I had no other appointments with other patients because it was on a weekend.

Mr. Ferrari must be a VVIP patient to have secured a session even today.

Trying not to think about what happened between us, I blocked all my thoughts by listening to old music.

Putting my headphones over my head, *LA ISLA BONITA BY MADONNA* boomed softly in my ears as I took a bus.

Being the introvert I am, I had no other engagement till the evening, when I'd go in for my part-time job at the department store , so I went home.

Just as I got to my room, I leaned my weight on the door to push it open rather than use my hand.

“Ariana dear, is that you?” Mom called, and I dropped my head backward, clicking my teeth.

Staring down at my bare feet, I shook my head, realizing I took the pain to come in as quietly as I could for nothing.

“Come out here. I have something to show you.” Mom said, and this time her voice sounded farther, as if she was moving from the living room.

Dragging my legs over there, I met her leaning against the kitchen island, her phone hanging loosely in her hand.

Pressing my nails into my palm, I muttered.

“Hi, Mom.”

Her eyes were resting on the couch beside me, as she stretched the phone to me,

“We had our engagement while you were on a trip.”

My brow arched as I collected it.

“Engagement?” I repeated.

Then I saw it.

A text that read,

“We are excited to share that we’re engaged! Gideon proposed to Cecelia on November 25th at Central Park. We’re so grateful for the love and support from our friends and family and can’t wait to celebrate our wedding in 2026.”

She started,

“Wanted to show you in person.”

“I'm getting married.” She announced.