heart.
She bolted upright in bed. Salty, bitter beads of sweat dripped into her mouth. Her soaked shirt clung to her skin. She shivered as the cool air from the open window chilled her bones.
Hadley ignored instructions from her brain to get out of bed and change her clothes. Instead she sat, hugging the covers, and tried to understand what transpired in the dream. As thoughts looped through her brain, Hadley stared absently at the wall in front of her. She’d had plenty of dreams about Miller and countless nightmares about her parents, but never had the two collided.
Why now?
She finally got out of bed and changed into a dry pair of pajamas. After making a note in her phone to discuss her dream with Dr. LeClair, Hadley climbed back in bed. She tangled her legs in the covers and rolled to her side. For over an hour, she watched the glowing red numbers of the alarm clock until she finally surrendered to sleep.
Hadley’s apartment faced east, allowing the morning sunrise that split the two buildings across the street to filter into the window and directly into her eyes. She stretched awake, feeling stressed and tired. Thankfully, it was Friday, and she would have all weekend to rest.
She went to the window, gazing out into the city and the clear summertime sky. On mornings like this, and if her apartment were up a few floors, Hadley would’ve been able to see all the way to the Hudson. Her heart raced behind her ribs as her dream replayed in her mind. She went over to the nightstand, retrieved her cell phone, and dialed Dr. LeClair’s number. After reassuring him she wasn’t in any danger, he agreed to meet her at his office at seven o’clock.
Hadley exited her apartment in a haste, her sense of smell overwhelmed by the sweet aroma of warm donuts from the bakery on the corner. Her stomach growled, but she had no time to stop for such treats. As it was, she would be about five minutes late to meet Dr. LeClair. Her delicate psyche couldn’t tolerate a reschedule.
Dr. LeClair’s friendly secretary, Donna, guided Hadley into his office. Hadley sat on the plush leather sofa in front of his desk. She waited for Dr. LeClair to mention her tardiness. He didn’t, which caused her to realize why she’d grown fond of him. He never lectured or spoke to her condescendingly or in a way that implied she was irresponsible or delusional, even if she might be both. To the good doctor, Hadley was merely a person who had a hard go of things, not a bad person or a broken person, but a human being that healed a little, day by day because he took the time to listen. Granted, she paid him for this, but she appreciated his lack of judgment. Sometimes, she even believed he rooted for her to succeed.
Hadley stared at his checkered shirt and bow tie while explaining the dream in detail. She then shared her mortifying elevator encounters with Miller, including mentioning the crass way Miller asked if she felt his erection. She waited patiently for Dr. LeClair to offer his professional opinion. Her knee bounced wildly while Dr. LeClair tapped his pen on his lips in a way that annoyed her.
After a few seconds, his thick eyebrows came together. He tossed the pen on the marble desktop. His hands folded together as he studied her.
“I think the dream is simply a result of anxiety.”
Well, no shit!
“But, why was Mr. Genetti at my parents’ house?”
Dr. LeClair answered instantly, “It may be because you’re afraid of the feelings you have for him. Bunching him and your parents together makes it easier to ignore those feelings.”
Hadley blinked back in surprise. “I’m attracted to him, but that hardly means I have feelings for him. I don’t know him.”
The doctor’s lip curled slightly before he shrugged and extended a finger to his desk. He tapped the hard surface once before saying, “Sexual attraction elicits feelings, and you’ve been attracted to him for a long time. Now that you’ve interacted with him personally,
She bolted upright in bed. Salty, bitter beads of sweat dripped into her mouth. Her soaked shirt clung to her skin. She shivered as the cool air from the open window chilled her bones.
Hadley ignored instructions from her brain to get out of bed and change her clothes. Instead she sat, hugging the covers, and tried to understand what transpired in the dream. As thoughts looped through her brain, Hadley stared absently at the wall in front of her. She’d had plenty of dreams about Miller and countless nightmares about her parents, but never had the two collided.
Why now?
She finally got out of bed and changed into a dry pair of pajamas. After making a note in her phone to discuss her dream with Dr. LeClair, Hadley climbed back in bed. She tangled her legs in the covers and rolled to her side. For over an hour, she watched the glowing red numbers of the alarm clock until she finally surrendered to sleep.
Hadley’s apartment faced east, allowing the morning sunrise that split the two buildings across the street to filter into the window and directly into her eyes. She stretched awake, feeling stressed and tired. Thankfully, it was Friday, and she would have all weekend to rest.
She went to the window, gazing out into the city and the clear summertime sky. On mornings like this, and if her apartment were up a few floors, Hadley would’ve been able to see all the way to the Hudson. Her heart raced behind her ribs as her dream replayed in her mind. She went over to the nightstand, retrieved her cell phone, and dialed Dr. LeClair’s number. After reassuring him she wasn’t in any danger, he agreed to meet her at his office at seven o’clock.
Hadley exited her apartment in a haste, her sense of smell overwhelmed by the sweet aroma of warm donuts from the bakery on the corner. Her stomach growled, but she had no time to stop for such treats. As it was, she would be about five minutes late to meet Dr. LeClair. Her delicate psyche couldn’t tolerate a reschedule.
Dr. LeClair’s friendly secretary, Donna, guided Hadley into his office. Hadley sat on the plush leather sofa in front of his desk. She waited for Dr. LeClair to mention her tardiness. He didn’t, which caused her to realize why she’d grown fond of him. He never lectured or spoke to her condescendingly or in a way that implied she was irresponsible or delusional, even if she might be both. To the good doctor, Hadley was merely a person who had a hard go of things, not a bad person or a broken person, but a human being that healed a little, day by day because he took the time to listen. Granted, she paid him for this, but she appreciated his lack of judgment. Sometimes, she even believed he rooted for her to succeed.
Hadley stared at his checkered shirt and bow tie while explaining the dream in detail. She then shared her mortifying elevator encounters with Miller, including mentioning the crass way Miller asked if she felt his erection. She waited patiently for Dr. LeClair to offer his professional opinion. Her knee bounced wildly while Dr. LeClair tapped his pen on his lips in a way that annoyed her.
After a few seconds, his thick eyebrows came together. He tossed the pen on the marble desktop. His hands folded together as he studied her.
“I think the dream is simply a result of anxiety.”
Well, no shit!
“But, why was Mr. Genetti at my parents’ house?”
Dr. LeClair answered instantly, “It may be because you’re afraid of the feelings you have for him. Bunching him and your parents together makes it easier to ignore those feelings.”
Hadley blinked back in surprise. “I’m attracted to him, but that hardly means I have feelings for him. I don’t know him.”
The doctor’s lip curled slightly before he shrugged and extended a finger to his desk. He tapped the hard surface once before saying, “Sexual attraction elicits feelings, and you’ve been attracted to him for a long time. Now that you’ve interacted with him personally,
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