Even If It Hurts -H.S. AU

29

Violet
Three years ago

"Why don't you start with telling me why you're here today?"

I'm sitting on an extremely overpriced leather couch across from a tall, middle aged woman who is wearing glasses that are almost too big for her face. My arms are crossed over my chest, which I'm sure she's analyzing, and my feet are planted firmly on the floor. When I take too long to respond, she sets her notebook on her knees and leans forward at me.

"Violet," she says my name like she knows me, "we can sit here and stare at each other for an hour, or you can tell me why you're here, and maybe I can help you."

I glance at the clock and sigh, seeing that there's fifty-six minutes left of my appointment.

"I'm here because my brother wouldn't leave me alone until I made an appointment." I admit and she smiles tightly at me, pleased she finally got an answer.

"But you're here," he points her pencil at me and raises her eyebrows, "that's a start."

"I'm here because I waited too long to cancel, and I would've been charged whether I came or not." I say flatly, and for a split second, I see a hint of a smirk on her face before it's wiped away.

"Regardless, a win is a win."

"A win for who?" I scoff.

"Your brother, apparently, since he cares about you enough to convince you to set the appointment." She says firmly. "Now, tell me why he thought it was so important that you come to see me."

I stare at her for a second, a little taken back by the short attitude she's adopted in the seven minutes we've known each other.

"He witnessed me experiencing a nightmare." I say honestly and swallow hard once the words leave my mouth.

"How frequently do you have this nightmare?" She pencils something into her notebook. The scratching sound grates on my nerves.

"Once a month, now."

"Now?" She looks up at me over the top of her glasses. "How long have you been experiencing this?"

"About two and a half years." I mumble and she continues to look at me, waiting for more. "At one point, I would have them a few times a week."

"Can you explain the dream for me?" She asks, picking up her pencil again.

"They would all involve my ex." I exhale heavily and a nervous pit forms in my stomach, but I'm surprised how relieved I feel talking about it. "He was abusive almost our entire relationship, but the dreams didn't really start until after he tried to kill me." Her eyes flick up to mine, but her face remains neutral. "He would attack me in the dream. Sometimes, it would be like I was reliving what actually happened, and other times it would be different."

"You're speaking about it in the past tense." She says. "Has the dream changed?"

I drop my arms from where they're crossed over my chest and fidget in my seat a little. I've never told anyone about how it's changed over the last two years. Even when Heather would wake me up, saying I was yelling in my sleep, I would just make something up.

"It's mostly the same." I start, and begin to pick at the nail polish on my thumb. "Somehow, my-" I clear my throat, "my most recent ex got intertwined into the recurring dream."

"Were both of your exes abusive?" She starts to make a note.

"No!" She pauses and looks up at me. "No. Just the first one."

"The first ex is the one who actually attacked you," she says steadily, "but the second one is who has you on edge."

"I don't understand why he's in that awful dream," I say quietly and a lump forms in my throat, "when he would never do anything to hurt me."