Page 59 of Where Quiet Hearts Scream
“People harm themselves for many reasons,” she explains. “Sometimes it’s because the physical pain is preferable to the emotional pain. In Serafina’s case, she seems to genuinely believe her difficult feelings can be released through her skin.”
She falls quiet again as I process this, then I hear, “Mr. Corioni…”
“Yes?”
“Don’t be afraid of her scars. I know they’re hard to see, but they’re a part of who she is.”
“I know that.”
“Good. Now, is there anything I need to know before my next session with her?”
“No. But I do have a question.”
“Go ahead,” she says.
“Is she strong enough to accompany me in public?”
“She’s no weaker than she has been these last few years, Mr. Corioni. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”
I permit myself a small smile. “Good. One more question.”
“Yes?”
“Did she talk about… me?”
A long pause stretches uncomfortably, then Nowak clears her throat. “She did.”
“And?” I ask, impatiently.
“She doesn’t trust you.”
My heart drops but it’s to be expected. I’ve lied to her. I’ve ripped her from the only life she knows.
“But that’s not to say she never will. You need to give her time. She can see you’re trying to help her and she’s starting to feel less resentful, but the fact remains, she didn’t choose this life and it may take a long time for her to accept it.”
“Thanks, Nowak.”
“No problem. Talk to you again soon.”
I hang up and stare out of the windshield, the city looking slightly more grey than it did when I left Arrow’s place. I’m relieved to hear my wife is making progress but I’m not a patient man and this is going to push me to my limit. The gala dinner can’t come soon enough. I need to show her who I really am.
Serafina
“Signor is not going to believe his eyes,” Viola says, bustling around me like a mother hen. “You look radiant, signora.”
“Viola, what have I told you a thousand times? You should call me Sera.”
I smile at my reflection in the mirror. The dress I picked out matches the color of my eyes. A dusty blue gown that clings to my body, accentuating every curve until it fans into a subtle fishtail. It covers enough skin to be modest but the one shoulder style gives it a super sexy feel.
I’ve heeded Viola’s advice and gathered my hair up into a loose knot, leaving a few curls here and there to fall about my face and shoulders. Small diamondsdecorate my ears and throat, complementing but not overshadowing the enormous rock on my finger.
I press slightly shaking fingers to my collarbone. I’m nervous. I haven’t seen Andreas since the night of our wedding three weeks ago and I haven’t heard from him either in that time. I’ve heard from and seen a lot of other people though. In particular, Dr. Nowak—the first person to make me confront my past and how I feel about losing my mama at such a young age.
Our meetings have been hard and painful. I’ve dredged up memories I would sooner forget. But she’s already opened my eyes to perspectives I hadn’t thought to consider. Perspectives like even though I wasn’t in the car when someone brutally took her life, I have just as much right as anybody to grieve my mother. Just because I found solace in my astrology books doesn’t mean I didn’t need comforting. I never asked for help because I thought it was selfish, but now I know it would have helped me process my feelings better.
As much as I hate to admit it, the therapy is helping. We don’t just talk about my past, Dr. Nowak has also given me some tools to help me manage my desire to self-harm. I put them into practice whenever I feel the urge, and the desire does seem to be waning bit by bit.
The spa therapies are nice too, providing I can withstand the touching without leaping off the table every two minutes. The food that Chef Alessandro has been preparing is out of this world, and Ali, my personal trainer, is helping me keep at least some of it fromclinging to my thighs. And Viola… Where would I be without Viola?
