Once, my paranoid love

Paul’s breaths came in sharp gasps, his chest heaving with the intensity of his emotions. His voice cracked as he retorted, “But why her? Why bring her into this?”

The doctor’s intent was clear-to guide Paul towards introspection and unearth the roots of his paranoid beliefs. “Elena is important to you, Paul. She represents a source of trust and connection. Exploring your thoughts about her can shed light on the origins of your doubts and fears.”

Paul’s anger began to wane, replaced by a mixture of exhaustion and vulnerability. The doctor’s response had struck a chord within him, tapping into the complex tangle of emotions he had been grappling with.

“It’s not about blaming Elena,” the doctor continued, his voice a soothing presence amidst the turmoil. “It’s about understanding the thoughts that trigger your reactions and addressing them in a healthy way.”

“Humph!” Paul’s frustration was evident as he tugged at his hair, his agitation manifesting physically. His voice took on a stern tone as he continued, “I just came here because Elena told me. But it seems you are not a good doctor. You are just wasting my time.”

The doctor’s response was a broad smile, his demeanor unperturbed by Paul’s criticism. He understood the intricacies of Paul’s personality-his tendency towards narcissism and an aversion to acknowledging his own vulnerabilities. The doctor’s approach was measured; he knew that challenging Paul’s beliefs directly might only escalate the situation.Text © 2024 NôvelDrama.Org.

“Yes, Paul,” the doctor replied calmly, his voice steady, “Indeed, I am still learning. Doctors need to practice and learn throughout their entire lives. I appreciate your feedback.”

Paul’s brows furrowed in response to the doctor’s composed reply. He had expected a defensive or argumentative retort, not this measured acceptance of his critique.

The doctor’s intention was clear-he aimed to regain control of the situation without escalating Paul’s emotional state. “But,” he continued, his tone carrying a note of authority, “As Ms. Elena has sent you here. Please cooperate with me. I’m here to help, and I believe that, together, we can work through the issues you’re facing.”

Paul’s initial anger seemed to wane slightly as he absorbed the doctor’s words. The doctor’s calm and confident demeanor was a stark contrast to the heated emotions that had been swirling within him.

The doctor’s approach was strategic-he knew that Paul’s pride and need for control were key elements in their interactions.

“Okay,” Paul’s voice held a hint of surrender, a willingness to temporarily set aside his defenses. “Now, quickly tell me what to do. I need to go home.”

“Of course, Paul,” the doctor replied, his tone measured and directive. “First, I want you to take some time to reflect on our discussions today. I will start working with you tomorrow.” With those words, the doctor jotted something down on a piece of paper and handed it to Paul.

Paul’s annoyance was palpable; his face was contorted with a mixture of frustration and impatience. He accepted the paper without a word, his fingers curling around it as he rose from his seat. The doctor’s instructions seemed to hang in the air, a reminder of the commitment he had made to his own healing journey.

As Paul strode out of the doctor’s chamber, the weight of the paper in his hand seemed to mirror the weight of his thoughts. The prospect of reflecting on their discussions was both daunting and oddly intriguing-a step into the unknown territory of his own mind.

But as he navigated the corridors of the hospital, his thoughts were interrupted by an unexpected encounter.

Ron!

Paul’s narrowed eyes met Ron’s gaze, suspicion and irritation flickering in his expression. Unconsciously, he muttered under his breath, ‘What’s this bastard doing here?’ The sight of Ron in this unexpected setting only served to amplify Paul’s annoyance.

However, as his gaze moved from Ron’s eyes to his forehead, where a bandage was visible, Paul’s irritation took on a new flavor. A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips, and he couldn’t resist the temptation to voice his thoughts.

“Did you get beat by someone?” Paul’s words carried a teasing edge, his voice was tinged with a mixture of amusement and sarcasm. The sight of Ron with a bandage raised questions, and Paul couldn’t help but seize the opportunity to indulge in a bit of banter.

Ron’s response was a lifted eyebrow, his expression one of mild amusement. The unexpectedness of the encounter seemed to have brought forth a spark of camaraderie between them.

“Well,” Ron began, his smirk mirroring Paul’s mischievous expression, “let’s just say I had a run-in with a sexy girl. It got the best of me.”

Paul’s chuckle subsided, and his brows arched in curiosity. The casual reference to a ‘sexy girl’ piqued his interest, and he couldn’t help but respond, “Oh, it seems she was quite wild.”

Ron’s laughter joined Paul’s, and the camaraderie between them was evident. Their banter had taken an unexpected turn, and the exchange seemed to have lightened the atmosphere around them.

“Indeed she was,” Ron exclaimed, his smirk growing wider as he met Paul’s eyes, “After all, I slept with Elena last night.”

The words hung in the air for a moment, their impact resonating in the space between them. Paul’s laughter faltered, his expression shifting from amusement to something more complex. For a brief moment, his playful demeanor was replaced by an unsettling stillness.

Elena’s name-a name that had been a constant presence in his thoughts-now carried a weight he hadn’t anticipated.

Paul’s heart skipped a beat, and the words Ron had just spoken echoed in his mind like a sinister refrain. He stared at Ron, his eyes widening with disbelief and a hint of rage.

“What exactly do you mean?” Paul managed to repeat, his voice shaking slightly despite his attempts to sound composed.

Ron’s smirk widened with a cruel glint in his eyes as he reveled in Paul’s obvious turmoil. He leaned in closer, his tone a chilling whisper that sent shivers down Paul’s spine. “Elena was with me last night, and we had a wonderful time. And her moans-I still can’t get enough of her.”