Mr.OCD's Messy Assistant (Completed)

Chapter 13

Chapter 13
Jason's POV

I visited a psychiatrist today. I never tried to visit one before, even when my family wanted me to do so in the past because I thought I did not need one. But now that I have thought thoroughly about it, if Sarah can try to be perfect for me then why cannot I do the same for her?

So, when I visited the doctor today, he assessed my condition. He assured me we could work on my anxiety and my compulsions.
It will take time but it will be worth trying.
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Sarah's POV
Some months later

Jason was still engrossed in work, when I reached his office for the fourth time to tell him to eat something for lunch.

"Jason. Eat something. Meanwhile, let me handle this."

He sighed, still not taking his eyes off work.

"This is really important. I need to do this myself. It has to be perfect."

After his therapy sessions, Jason had improved a lot, but I guess some habits die hard.

"Jason.You know I am a Harvard business graduate. I can handle this. You don't have to burden yourself."

He stopped working and finally glanced at me.

"I know. I am......um"
He closed his eyes.

"You trust me, right?"

"Obviously, I do trust you Sarah."

"Then let me handle the project and then you can brush your perfectionist charms on it later on."

He smiled.

"Ofcourse." And then a naughty grin appeared on his face.

"And if there are any mistakes in there Sarah, you are going to treat me to dinner tomorrow."

I raised my eyebrows at him and look him in the eyes.
"I will make it perfect"

Before I could leave his office, he amusingly asked.
"The project or the dinner?"
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Sarah Jones POV
Few months later

Today was Jason's birthday. I had got to Jason's office earlier because I wanted to surprise him. I took my time decorating his blue-walled office with party balloons. Yeah, now his office has blue walls.

Strangely enough, when I had rejoined his office two weeks after the little stunt I had pulled on him, his office still had those pink walls. I was surprised he had not changed them back to the cream ones immediately, even when I no longer worked there.

I even baked a cake for him, a vanilla flavored one with pink fondant cream. I had intentionally chosen the pink color because I wanted to see how he would react to it.

In the past few months, he had really proven that he was up for change. He had not fired anyone in the last month just because his office was not cleaned up to perfection or his food was not to his liking or the work projects were not the epitome of perfection he once desired. His relationship with his workers had improved significantly. Even employees were working to their fullest potential now, always bringing in new ideas, proving that they were more than perfect.

Jason opened his office door.
"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday dear Jason, happy birthday to you." I sang happily.

He looked at me, a genuine smile appeared on his face. Then he glanced at the balloons. Finally his gaze moved on to the cake.

"Seriously, balloons and a pink cake, Sarah?"

He was trying to make an annoying face, but I could clearly spot the amusement in his eyes and the way the sides of his lips were curling into a smile.

"Come, cut the cake, I want to eat it."

He came to stand beside me. While cutting the cake, he held my hand too. I giggled.

"It is your birthday, not mine. Why am I holding the knife?"

He looked at me adoringly and said.

"Because I want you to be with me in whatever I do."

I took the pink cream off the cake.

"No way Sarah, you are not going to ruin my face."

"Run, Jason, because I am going to do it anyway."

He ran and I ran behind him, circling the desk. We were giggling like kids.

When I stopped to catch my breath, he stopped running too. I slowly walked towards him, but he did not make any attempt to run away.
He just stood there, gazing right into my eyes. I smeared all the cream over his entire face, and he let me. He did not stop me.

I expected him to run, to wipe his face, to shout, but he just stood there. His eyes conveyed emotions which directly hit my chest.

Respect. Love. Devotion. Submission.

The man who used millions of beauty products on his face, always too self-conscious about his looks, let me dirty it.

If this was not love, what else could it be?

Right there I realized something else too. Like a cyclone that had consumed me, a flood that had drowned me, I was too shackled in the reins of love, yet I was free. I was doomed, yet I felt so heavenly.

When I was young, my father had a pet pigeon. He always used to open its cage and let the pigeon fly, but somehow, at the end of the day, the pigeon always used to return.
For years I tried to understand the reason behind it. I always asked father about it and he would pat my head and tell me one day you would understand.

Today I understood what he meant.
Love itself is freedom. It is never meant to keep you hostage, it does not cage you. Rather it sets you free.

My heart was caged by his love and I wanted to be caged forever.

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Author's Note

Thanks for reading.

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