Model Behavior by Highton-Stevenson Claire

Author:Highton-Stevenson, Claire [Highton-Stevenson, Claire]
Language: eng
Format: epub, azw3
Published: 2020-04-13T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Two

“I don’t think it’s irrational to feel the way you do, Olivia,” Dr. Demetri was explaining, her voice on the gentle side of authoritative. “You suffered a traumatic event at the hands of somebody you loved and trusted. That cannot be dismissed so easily.”

“I don’t want to keep being reminded of it,” Olivia insisted.

The office she was sat in was unlike anything she expected of a therapist’s office. It was homely, with soft couches and beautiful matching drapes. It was as though she were sitting in a friend’s living room having coffee and chatting about their day. Only she wasn’t talking about her day; she was being encouraged to talk about “the event,” as it was now being called in her mind.

“It may well be that there will always be reminders, but that in time we will teach you different ways to deal with the triggers so that they become less dominant,” Dr Demetri was saying, but Olivia’s mind had already wandered back to Hilary.

Olivia had been having thrice-weekly sessions with Dr Demetri for the past two weeks now. The nightmares had gotten worse, but the more she talked, the more she understood and was able to feel that this could be fixed.

“What do you want, Olivia?”

She thought back to the morning after the party, her mother’s suggestion that she call Hilary. Embarrassment and fear had stopped her at first, but eventually, she had plucked up the courage. But it had rung out; Hilary didn’t want to speak to her. And she couldn’t blame her for that.

In some ways, she had been grateful of that, that she didn’t have to hear the upset and disappointment in Hilary’s voice. It was cowardly though; she knew that.

Now, as she sat here listening to her doctor, she wondered if maybe she should try again, try harder to apologise and give Hilary the explanation she deserved.

“Hilary,” she finally answered.

~MB~

“Dad, I told you to just call me if you needed anything,” Hilary scolded when she caught sight of him up out of his chair. Michael Palmer was not a good patient. He was supposed to be resting and keeping his leg elevated so that the swelling would go down.

“I just wanted to get—”

“It doesn’t matter, Pop. Those crutches are to help with essential walking, not just getting up and wandering around. Just call me, I am only in the next room,” Hilary said, exasperated. She helped him back to his chair. “Okay, now what was it that you wanted?”

He sagged, defeated and disappointed. “There’s a magazine on the coffee table, it’s called Mega Structure.”

She smiled at him – it was hard to be angry with him for too long – and wandered across to get it. Handing the magazine to her father, she began to plump his pillows and fuss over him. “Hilary, will you stop? I am fine.” And he was fine. His ankle was healing as it should be, but still, she felt protective.

Her phone began to ring from somewhere in another room, but she ignored it and carried on tidying around him.

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