"Good morning, Doctor. I'm.."
June's words died in her throat as her gaze landed on the last person she ever wanted to see again.
"You!" They both spat in unison, scowls deepening as recognition set in.
June's fingers twitched at her sides, her irritation flaring instantly. Was this some kind of sick joke?
"Why are you here?" she demanded, glancing around, half-wondering if she had walked into the wrong office.
Dr. Deen—of all people—leaned back in his chair, not even sparing her a proper glance. "Why can't I be here? This is my office."
No. No. No. June repeated it in her head like a prayer, as if sheer denial could erase the smug-faced man sitting in front of her.
"You're Dr. Deen?" she huffed, scowling at the sheer incompetence of the hospital. "This is the professional they hired? A madman?"
Dr. Deen let out a low huff, clearly unimpressed. "I am," he confirmed, a flicker of amusement crossing his face as he took in her discomfort.
"Why would they hire someone like you?" she snapped, crossing her arms.
He exhaled sharply, choosing to focus on the screen in front of him. But June wasn't done. She marched toward his desk and jabbed a finger at his shoulder.
"Hey! I'm talking to you!"
Dr. Deen pulled away from her grasp instantly, eyes narrowing. "Miss June, don't push your luck."
She smirked at his reaction, satisfied. "Oh? Are you scared of me, doctor?"
"Take a seat," he instructed instead, gesturing to the chair across from him.
"Why should I?"
He gave a deadpan look. "To dance."
Her fingers curled into fists at his sarcasm, but she sat down anyway, crossing her legs in defiance.
Dr. Deen folded his hands on the desk, observing her with that clinical, unreadable gaze. His eyes flicked to her fingers, tapping against each other, to her foot bouncing impatiently.
"Anger issues," he mused aloud.
June stiffened.
He ignored the warning look she shot him and continued. "What's your name?"
She scoffed. "You're holding my form. Figure it out yourself."
He inhaled deeply, as if summoning patience. "I see it. I want to know if you still remember your own name, considering your temper might have wiped your memory."
June rolled her eyes. "June."
"June," he repeated, tilting his head. "No surname?"
She tensed, her arms crossing. "I don't have one. Why do you care?"
"Don't get me wrong—I don't. Not one bit. I'm just obligated to have this conversation with you."
"Well, just like you, I was forced to come here. If it were up to me, I wouldn't have stepped foot in this office, especially not with you as the doctor."
Dr. Deen smirked. "Then be my guest and leave. No doctor will handle your madness anyway."
June nearly stood up, but the challenge in his voice stopped her. There was no way she was letting him win.
"I paid for this session," she shot back. "So do your job."
His smirk faded slightly, but he said nothing, instead glancing down at the form.
"Why are you here?"
June's fingers dug into her arms. "To get help," she muttered.
Dr. Deen raised an eyebrow. "Help with what?"
A sharp breath passed through her lips. "Apparently… my anger issues. And my inability to stay in a relationship."
He wasn't surprised. With her attitude, any man would run for the hills. The real shock was that someone had actually stayed long enough to be called an 'ex.'
"What triggers your temper the most?" he asked, watching her closely.
Silence.
His gaze flickered with interest. Her fingers clenched tighter, her jaw locking. He could tell—whatever was buried inside her was deeper than just irritation.
"Why didn't you get along with your previous exes?"
Another pause.
Dr. Deen leaned back. "Miss June, my best advice is to see a therapist. They'd be much more helpful."
June stood abruptly, stepping toward him.
Dr. Deen's chair slid back instantly.
"Don't tell me you're scared of me?" she teased, taking another step forward.
His eyes darkened. "Miss June, don't push your limits."
"My limit? What's my limit?" she taunted, closing the space between them.
Before she could react, he grabbed her waist and spun her against the wall, his frame looming over hers.
June's breath hitched.
"You…" she started, but her voice wavered.
Dr. Deen smirked. "What? Cat got your tongue?"
Her pulse pounded wildly in her ears. She refused to give in, refused to let him see the effect he had on her. But standing this close, her body betrayed her.
Then,
"Dave?"
The voice at the door shattered the tension.
Dr. Deen pulled away instantly, his expression shutting down.
June turned to see a man standing there, amusement twinkling in his eyes.
"My apologies," the newcomer said, not bothering to hide his smirk. "I'll come back later if you're busy."
June grabbed her bag and bolted out of the office.
Her heart was still hammering against her ribs.
And the worst part?
A tiny, ridiculous part of her was disappointed that the moment had been interrupted.
James leaned against the doorframe, arms crossed, an amused smirk playing on his lips as he watched June storm out of the office like a hurricane.
Dave, on the other hand, looked anything but amused. His jaw was tight, his shoulders tense—a rare sight for someone who usually kept his emotions locked down.
James let out a low whistle. "That was epic."
Dave shot him a warning glare. "What do you want?"
James stepped inside, shoving his hands into the pockets of his white coat. "You know, in all the years I've known you, this is the first time I've seen you that close to a woman. So… who was she?
Dave exhaled sharply, already regretting not locking his damn door. "Not your concern."
James' smirk widened. "C'mon, don't be stingy. She looked fiery and from that little scene, I'd say she's either your worst nightmare or your best mistake waiting to happen."
Dave pinched the bridge of his nose. "James—"
"Oh! Wait" James gasped, eyes widening as if a revelation had struck him. "Don't tell me… she's your girlfriend?"
Dave scoffed, leaning back in his chair. "No."
James wasn't convinced. "An ex, then?"
"No."
"An almost something?"
Dave's eye twitched. "James, get to the point or get out."
James laughed, dropping into the chair across from him. "Alright, alright. You're no fun. But seriously, if she's not your girlfriend, I might just give it a shot."
Dave's hand clenched around the pen he was holding. "Don't."
James raised a brow. "Oh?" His smirk deepened. "Why not?"
Dave didn't answer.
But the sharp look in his eyes spoke louder than words.
James chuckled, leaning back. "Interesting. Very interesting." He tilted his head. "You know, I think you do care."
Dave remained silent, his expression unreadable.
James grinned. "Don't worry, Doctor Deen," he teased, standing up and stretching. "I'll leave your angry little cupcake alone."
"Out."
James laughed, raising his hands in surrender as he made his way to the door. "Relax. No need to get all territorial."
As he stepped out, he glanced back one last time. "But Dave… whatever that was between you two good luck handling it."
And with that, he was gone.
Dave sighed, running a hand through his hair.
Handling June?
He wasn't sure if he wanted to,
Or if he even could.
At the other end, June had just rest her heels in the comfort of their apartment, and the first to handle was her friend , Dora.
"You forced me to go to therapy, only for me to end up with a lunatic for a doctor!" June grumbled, pacing the Living room.
Dora sighed, flipping through a book. She had gotten her texts and miss calls and so had rush home thinking it was some sort of an emergency.
"For the last hour, you haven't stopped complaining."
June crossed her arms. "Because it's true! He himself needs help!
Dora glanced at her. "What exactly happened?"
June huffed. "He smashed my cupcakes a day ago!"
Dora blinked. "That's why you think he's crazy?"
"Yes!"
Dora shook her head and turned back to her laptop.
June plopped down in frustration, but before she could rant again, the buzz of the phone on the table got her attention.
She frowned at the screen as she took hold of the phone, recognized to be Janes'.
Opening the message, her eyes narrowed.
"If you want a peaceful life, you'd better bring me the two thousand Leones I asked for."
June's grip tightened on the phone.
"What the hell…"