64

Avrora
I feel like a new woman as I walk through the revolving glass doors of Mira’s private practice. There’s a lightness about me I’m sure people can see, and I feel more confident.
Anatoli and I returned from our honeymoon last night. We had the most amazing time. He sailed me around the Caribbean, stopping at every island, where we frolicked in the sea and sun by day, then made love under the stars at night.
I didn’t want to leave and return to the real world.
When we did, it was nice to get a message from Mira letting me know she was back from Russia.
Since I’m not back on campus until next week, I thought it would be great to catch up with her today.
As I walk into the elevator, I catch sight of my very tanned skin. A dead giveaway of the fun I had in the Caribbean with Anatoli.
I hope I don’t look like I had too much fun.
The last time I saw Mira, I was left worrying about what she thought of me. Now that Anatoli and I are married, I’m still worried. Mira is someone I want to keep in my life, so I hope what’s happened hasn’t placed a wedge between us.
Once the elevator car comes to a stop, I walk up to her door and knock.
“Come in,” she calls out and it’s good to hear her voice.
I push the door open and when she smiles, I feel like we’ll be okay and nothing has changed between us.
It’s even more confirmed when she gets up from her chair and rushes around to hug me.
“Oh my dear, look at you.” She holds my shoulders and takes me in with a brighter smile than the one she wore when we last saw each other. “You’re absolutely glowing.”
“Thank you.”
“Come, let’s sit. I got those pastries you like.” She points to the little table by the sofas with a white pastry box sitting in the center.
“Oh my God, thanks so much. I love those.” They’re the same type Ehlga makes.
We sit, and Mira opens the box, waving her hand over it as if she’s displaying a case of jewels. We used to do this after every session I had with her, whether that was mentoring or talking. To me, it was therapy even though she couldn’t be my official therapist.
I take a strawberry donut, and she does the same.
“How have you been?” I ask before we can get into any discussion about me. Mira is selfless that way. Things couldn’t have been easy on her over the last couple of weeks, but she’ll be more concerned about me.
“I’m better now. Going to Russia was reinvigorating. I saw my sisters and their kids and grandkids.” She laughs heartily. “It was nice being away. And I’m stronger for it. Being away from Evgeni was hard, though.”
It always feels weird when I ask her about him because I know his health is bad. Now Anatoli is another reason to feel awkward but I’m going to ask her anyway.
“What’s happening with him?”
“He’s still hanging on and I still have faith. As long as his brain is active, I’m praying and hoping.” She blows out a ragged breath. “And I will continue to stand by his side in sickness and in health.”
“I’m sure he will appreciate you for that.” I nod with respect. Although I still don’t know the full story, I’m now sure Evgeni must have cheated on her. I’ve had to go by people’s actions-particularly hers-and what Mikhail said to Anatoli.
“I hope so.”
“He will.” Everything I know might be tainted, but I feel I’m right about that.
“How haveyoubeen?” She holds my gaze with interest.
“I’m okay. I’m…” What do I tell her that won’t sound awkward?
“Glowing,” she fills in.
“Yeah, glowing. I had to try to do what I had to.” Sayingmove ondoesn’t sound quite right, but I suppose that’s what happened.
“And that’s okay. I’m sad you’re not my daughter-in-law, but that changes nothing between us. I just want you to be happy.”
“I’m trying.”
“That’s the best thing you can do for yourself.”
“I guess.” I know no matter what she says, she would have wanted me to be happy with Mikhail. There’s a fundraiser tomorrow night at Scarfoni Inc. that I’m not looking forward to because he’ll be there. God knows what will happen between him and Anatoli. “Are you going to be at the fundraiser?”
“No.” Her shoulders droop. “I’m still trying to lie low. I won’t attend any of those events for a long time to come.”
“I understand.”
“Mikhail will be there, though.”
“How is he?” I’m wondering if she knows about the fight. It wouldn’t be like Mikhail to tell her, but these are different times.
“He’s, um… well, he’s still taking things hard. You know how much he adored you.”
“I know.” Maybe I shouldn’t have asked the question.
“You can’t think about him now. Mikhail will be fine, Avrora. It will take time, but there’s nothing anyone can do now but move on.”
“I know. I just worry about him.”
“Don’t. Promise me you won’t.”
I give her a little smile and nod. “I promise.”
“Good. Now, tell me more about what’s been going on with you. Did the nightmares stop? We never got a chance to talk about that.”
I go with the subject change because it feels appropriate. In any event, this discussion is better for me because Mira helped me get rid of the nightmares the first time around.
“I still have them maybe four to five times a week, and sometimes several times during the night.”
Her brows furrow. “Oh Avrora, why didn’t you contact me?”
“I didn’t want to disturb you.”
“Don’t be silly. Are you still getting the same dream sequence?”
“The same.”
Worry fills her eyes. She knows about the crest because she knows the dream. But I will be keeping my promise to Anatoli about the deeper meaning of the crest.
“Mira, did you ever, at any point, think something else besides the accident must have happened to me?”
She dips her head slightly and the solemn look on her face is my answer. “I did. I just never knew what it could be. Recurring dreams are the mind’s way of trying to reconnect and clarify an event. There’s a block somewhere and sometimes people have triggers that can help. You said you saw monsters, and if we were watching anything with monsters in it, you’d start crying. I often wondered if that was your childhood mind’s way of creating something to cover something else.”
“Like people?”
“Yes. Like people. You never dreamt about the car hitting you. Not once.” She presses her lips together. “Of course, these are all just assumptions. Myassumptions. Your father is a very secretive man, but your mother was secretive too. When you first started having nightmares, I asked your father if something traumatic had happened to you apart from getting hit by the car. He told me no. But your mother always had that look about her, like she was covering something up. I’m sorry. I hate to say it like that.”
“It’s okay. I know what you mean. She was like that all the time.”
Mira reaches for my hand and gives it a squeeze. “This thing has been bothering you for years. If we can’t figure it out and no one will tell us, maybe it’s best to let it go.”
That’s the hard truth I don’t want to face, but something I might have to do. “What if it’s important, Mira? I don’t know if I can just let it go.”
“How about we set something up for next week?” she suggests, seeing my hesitation. “You could come to my house next Sunday and we can spend the day together. Then we can start the process of doing what we did last time. It would be good if I can rid you of these nightmares forever and maybe dig a little deeper to see why you have them in the first place.”
“I’d truly love that.” But who knows what I might dig up?
It’s even worse now that I know Dad lied to me.