Chapter Two

Dr. Bryan Kirk knocked briefly and then stepped into the exam room.

“Good morning, Ella. How are you?”

Ella fought the urge to smile. But simply hearing his voice made her all kinds of excited. And being in the same room as him? Yep. She was pretty sure her panties were getting wet.

A dreadful thought crossed her mind, causing her to tense with panic. Would she have to take her pants off for any reason? What if he noticed the giant wet spot on her underwear?

She silently reassured herself that she wouldn’t have to disrobe. He wasn’t that kind of doctor. It wasn’t that kind of exam.

Part of her was disappointed.

She remembered that he had asked a question. She pulled her head out of the clouds and said, “Doing good. How are you?”

“I’m fine, thank you. You’re my first patient of the morning. Starting my day with you is a treat.”

She blushed, but at least stifled the giggle that had threatened to spill from her lips. That was a small victory.

Don’t read anything into it. He’s just being polite and exchanging pleasantries.

“Of course, you might have selected this early slot so you can get it over with. I’m acutely aware people don’t like to see me,” he said with a good-natured grin. “Comes with the profession.”

Oh, I have no problem seeing you first thing in the morning. I just wish it was when I wake up and roll over to find you lying next to me!

Ella kept that comment to herself, instead sharing the real reason she’d booked the earliest slot.

“I like to get it over with, but it doesn’t have anything to do with you. I love to eat! I’m sure you can tell by my weight.” She gave a short snort of laughter, though there wasn’t much humor behind it. “I can’t eat until after you draw blood for the labs, so yeah…I like to come early so I can get to my breakfast.”

Dr. Kirk cleared his throat. The serious look shading his face told Ella he didn’t find the comments very funny.

Oh crap! This man seriously looks like he wants to pull me over his knee and spank my bottom!

That’s ridiculous because he’s not a Daddy. Stop projecting your fantasies onto him.

“As your physician,” he said, “it’s my duty to make recommendations regarding your health.”

“Sure,” she said.

“Well, what you just said, believe it or not, has adverse health effects.”

“You mean me being fat?” she asked.

“No,” he said, very matter of fact. “I mean speaking poorly of yourself. That seeps into your brain. It impacts your health.”

“Hey,” she said, smiling and trying to lighten the mood. “You’re not shrink. You’re a doctor.”

He smiled at that. “Yes. But your mental health is tied to your physical health. And I can certainly recommend you see a therapist.” He swung a keyboard out from under a mounted computer and began typing. He looked at the monitor. “Just remember those comments only hurt you.” He read the screen for a moment. “Okay. Looks like you first came to me with these symptoms three months ago. You reported some dizziness. Trouble sleeping which led to fatigue. Some loss of appetite.”

“Yeah,” she said with a nod. She thought about adding that she clearly hadn’t lost enough of her appetite since she seemed to be getting fatter by the day. But after the way he’d reacted to her last comment, she decided to hold back.

“And we scheduled a follow-up for today,” he said, stepping away from the computer system and closer to the exam table. “Have you noticed any changes?”

“Yeah. I think the symptoms have actually…gotten worse,” she said.

He nodded and then moved the stethoscope from around his neck to his ears. He put the circular disk at the end on her chest and said, “Can you take a deep breath for me?”

She did so.

“Release.”

She obeyed.

Had she been dreaming, he would have told her she was a good girl. The thought made her smile.

They repeated the process several more times. He moved the stethoscope’s chest piece to her back and listened. Satisfied, he put it back around his neck and said, “Last time you mentioned your kids were preparing to move away. Right? College?”

“Yeah. They just started,” she said. “And you have a good memory.”

He gave her a smile, and, in that moment, it seemed as if there was something to the look in his eyes. Something to indicate he remembered her particularly.

She brushed off the notion as being ridiculous.

“They just move?”

“Yeah.”

He nodded. “And you were having some troubles at work. Things were stressful.”

She shifted on the exam table, causing the thin, white paper beneath her to crinkle. “Running a small business is tough.”

“Still stressing you out?”

“It’s always stressing me out.”

He nodded again, giving her an understanding smile.

A few seconds passed before he said, “Well, the lab results will tell us more. But I suspect they’ll be normal, just like they were three months ago. So, that’s the good news. I don’t think there’s anything wrong that would require long-term treatment.

“But I do think you need a lifestyle change.”

Oh great, Ella thought. This is where he’s going to tell me to lose weight and exercise. See, he knows I’m fat.

But instead, he said, “I think you’re stressed out. Remember what I said about mental health being tied to our physical health? You’ve had some big life changes recently. Your kids moving away is no small thing, Ella. Add the stress from work—and your negative self-image—and you have the recipe for a disaster.”

He let his words sink in. She shifted once again while looking down at the floor.

“Now, the good news,” Dr. Kirk continued, “is that this hasn’t reached crisis level yet. But it’s not hyperbole to say it might, if you don’t make some changes.”

“Like what?” she said. “I can’t really do much about work. And my kids…”

He smiled reassuringly. “I’m not trying to downplay any of it, Ella. I know it’s stressful and I’m sorry.”

She knew he was being genuine. She had to fight the urge to lunge forward, throwing her body against his and wrapping her arms around him. But a hug sure would feel nice right now.

“I certainly recommend therapy. I think we can all benefit from seeing a therapist at certain points in our life. Just talking things out can work wonders. Plus, a clinician can help you cultivate positive coping strategies.”

She nodded. She’d been thinking about seeing one. She made a mental note to set up an appointment later that day.

“Also, what’s something you’d love to do? Something that is realistic and attainable?” he asked.

She fought hard to suppress a smile. She couldn’t tell him what she really wanted to do. What she truly needed.

Because what her soul craved was regression.

Regression with a strong, sexy Daddy like him would be even better.

But she’d settle for simply regressing in a care-free environment.

She needed Little Space.