Random Dental Stories

Avery Continued.... Again

It's been about three months since my last appointment with Matt. Since that day, we have had three dates a month, each planned by Matt. Utter magic. About two months into our relationship, my landlord put my rent price far too high, to a point where I couldn't pay it. Because of this, Matt and I decided that it would be better for me to move into his place. So I did just that, and now here we are, tangled in each other's embrace, channel-surfing looking for something to watch.

We eventually land on an old re-run episode from some random sitcom and decide that there is absolutely nothing on. We give each other a knowing look as he changes from channel tv to Netflix. We go over to our profile before scrolling to reach our continue watching. We reach the latest anime we have been watching together and hover over it as Matt heaves himself off the couch and over to the kitchen. When he returns, he holds two bowls of strawberries and two glasses of water for us both. I accept both gratefully. Finally, we press play and the Netflix logo flashes with the familiar opening noise.

"Oh, love, before I forget, I've booked you in with an appointment with me tomorrow. I know it's only been three months, but I think going more often will help calm your anxiety. You know, desensitise you a bit?" Matt speaks softly from next to me and I feel my whole body go rigid and sweat starting to bead on my forehead. I don't want to do this! Not at all.

Matt notices my change from calm and relaxed to panicked and, well let's just say it, shitting myself. He gives me a confused but caring look, seeming to say 'I thought you were past this a bit?' and I can't help but feel a sliver of disappointment run through me. "Do I have to go? I think I'll be fine with the normal six months." I can hear the shakiness in my voice. God, I sound so timid and weak.

"I'd prefer it if you did," at this point, he's paused the show, "I want to make you more comfortable with my profession. Why don't you want to so bad? Is it anything specific?" he asks tentatively while rubbing my thigh in the way he knows calms me down. Yes, there is a specific reason. Matt's a dentist, I should just tell him.

"I-," I cut off before thinking of how to phrase this in a way that will make him the least angry and make me seem like less of a wimp. "I've had a toothache for a little while. Something in my back right bottom teeth. I was too scared to tell you. I'm sorry, I'm just still not the best with this whole thing. Please don't be mad." Everything comes rushing out before I can tell myself to chill out.

"Sweetheart, I'm not mad. I'm a little hurt that you felt that you couldn't tell me, but I understand why you didn't. I'll tell you what, we'll go to my office tomorrow, get you checked out, see what I can do about your tooth and then we can come back home and I'll make you dinner. I scheduled your appointment for the end of the day anyway so we'd have more time. How does that sound?"

Despite the fear still lurking within me and the thought that something bad will happen, I give a small nod and cuddle back into him. We both silently agree to let the subject pass and just focus on the television, but beneath the side of me that's enjoying the anime is the feeling of dread about tomorrow. I'm sure everything will be fine. Yeah, it'll be fine.

~~~Time Skip to Avery's appointment~~~

Mother of Christ, I am terrified. Matt told me that I should walk over at about 4:30, so that's what I did. The practice is only a ten-minute walk from home, and my appointment is scheduled for 4:45, so it works out quite well. But it's currently 4:42 and I haven't been called back yet, so naturally, I'm jumping to every possible conclusion. What if I messed up the time? What if something is going on? What if-

"Avery, come on through love." I hear Matt's soft voice break me out of my downward spiral. I push myself out of the chair before giving an almost cinematic gulp and follow him back to the room. I've dubbed this my room since it's the only room I've been in here. "Hey Sweets, how're you holding up?" It's kind of ironic that one of his nicknames for me is Sweets when he stays away from them like the plague. I flash him a false smile. A pitiful smile. I'm gestured to get into the chair and do so reluctantly.