Annoyed by my own antics and her amusement, I turn to him, demanding, “And who is he exactly?”

The man smiles warmly, extending his hand, which I regard warily. “I’m Dr. Watkins, Kerry’s therapist.”

I hesitate, my hand in mid-air as I process this. “And you make house visits to all your patients?” I ask, suspicion threading through my tone.

Sensing the tension, Dr. Watkins offers a comforting smile. “Only for a select few.” He clarifies, his tone reassuring.

“Stop it!” Kerry touches my arm, a silent plea for civility. as she explains to me, “If you must know, Mr. Nosey, Dr. Watkins has been kind enough to continue seeing me off the books since I can’t afford the sessions anymore.”

The raw honesty in Kerry’s voice pierces through me. Her usually bright and confident expression dims slightly as she looks away. With a subtle movement, she brushes a strand of hair behind her ear, her eyes downcast, showing her discomfort and embarrassment. I feel guilty for my thoughtless behavior upon realizing the depth of the financial struggle she’s been facing despite the smile she wears on her face.

Feeling like a complete fool, I gently lift her chin with my finger, encouraging her to look at me. “I’m sorry, Kerry. I didn’t mean to get jealous or pry. I know I have a lot to apologize for, and I promise to do it with both my words and actions. I’ll never make you feel embarrassed or uncomfortable again.”

She parts her lips to speak, but no words come out. The atmosphere grows tense, unmistakably heavy with unspoken thoughts, until Dr. Watkins clears his throat, reminding us of his presence.

“Well, Mr. Grimes,” He says with a slight chuckle. “it was a pleasure meeting you. Ms. Kind, same time next week?”

Kerry nods, but before he departs, she remarks under her breath, “Do you see what I mean now, Doc? Freakin’ melting in his hand.”

A soft chuckle escapes me, and even Dr. Watkins smiles, acknowledging her bashfulness with a knowing smile before he walks away.

However, once he’s gone, Kerry’s demeanor shifts. “What do you want, Mr. Grimes?” She asks, her tone suddenly firm.

Her straightforwardness catches me off guard and stirs a bit of desire within me.

“Well, that’s a loaded question, Ms. Kind,” I reply, smirking. “But to start, these are for you.” I raise the bouquet.

She attempts to maintain a stern facade, but I watch it melt away as the seconds tick by. “They’re beautiful,” She admits, taking in it’s scent. “But flowers aren’t going to get you off the hook that easily!”

Kerry snatches the bouquet and turns to walk into her house. I can’t help but watch, captivated by her grace, until she pivots to face me with a composed expression.

“You comin’ in or not?”

I smirk. “I don’t know. May I?”