Page 119 of La Dolce Vita

"Fabiana? Your partner?" she asked.

Mirabella glanced to Giovanni who was now scowling at the woman. She then looked back to the doctor. "Yes. You know about Fabiana?"

"Dominic Battaglia told me that I resemble her. I think it's the hair."

"It's more than the hair," Giovanni said.

"Let's sit down and talk," Mirabella gestured toward the wicker chairs at the edge of the terrace. The doctor nodded and walked over.

Before Mirabella could follow Giovanni grabbed her hand. "I'm not sure about her."

"I'll decide. Okay? Please?"

He relented. They joined the doctor and sat across from her.

"So, how does this work?" Mirabella asked.

"It typically depends on the patient. I'd be happy to share my experience with patients who suffer from depression, anxiety, or PTSD. Anything you want to know. Or we can just talk about you, and how you feel about therapy."

"I think we begin with you telling us who you are, Dr. Marchetti," Giovanni stated.

The doctor looked up at him and smiled. "Sure. First, please feel free to call me Sera. I live in Firenze. My practice often takes me from Italy to Sweden. I..."

"That is about your work. I know about you work, that's why we invited you. I want to know who you are. Why you show up here looking as you do, to work with my wife, knowing who we are."

"Gio..." Mirabella put a hand on his knee.

"Let her answer the question, Bella."

The doctor nodded. "I don't have a husband or children. My parents were born in this region of Italy. I've always loved it here. I wanted to be close to them. I've spent more time in school than in politics or the social scene. So, I'm not truly familiar with your family. I have done my research since my talk with Dominic Battaglia. I understand your suspicion. Your family is very complicated."

Mirabella stared at her husband from her corner vision. He didn't seem convinced. But she knew that the doctor’s direct manner garnered her a bit of respect. Giovanni preferred people who looked him in the eye and spoke directly.

"I've had many successes in clinical practice. But I'm not as accomplished as I would like to be. My work is my life. It's all I do."

"Why do you think you can help me?" Mirabella asked.

"You were kidnapped. Before you were abducted, your best friend died in front of you. There is what we call Normal Stress Response. I've seen many patients with it."

"What is it?" Mirabella asked.

"It's when healthy adults who have been exposed to a single traumatic event experience bad memories and nightmares, feelings of unreality, of body tension and distress."

"Yes. That's how I feel most of the time, well before, and maybe still," Mirabella said. "Is that what I have?"

"Those kind of people typically recover in a few weeks. It's been several months for you. I can't diagnose you from a single conversation. I need to know more.”

"Try harder!" Giovanni snapped.

The doctor smiled in the way that Fabiana often did when she suppressed her own biting come back. "You may have Acute Stress disorder, which is a form of PTSD, but not as severe."

"What's the cure?" Giovanni demanded.

"Gio!" Mirabella said and put her hand over this.

"It's okay. It's a good question. Treatment includes being removed from the scene of trauma. Immediate support of your family and therapy to help balance out grief and anxiety."

"Grief? Funny, that's the one word we never use. But that's how I feel. Some days. Like I'm grieving." She looked over to her husband. "And coming here, last night with us, being in Chianti, I feel less tension. She's right."

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