Page 45 of Hearts on Fire

12

Naomi

It felt as though so much time had passed since Naomi started therapy. But when she looked in her calendar, it was only going to be a month in two days. Nearly a month of consistent therapy for at least three times a week.

The night was dark and too silent for Naomi as she laid in her bed. She would have turned on music but when she had done so earlier, it sounded like too much noise. She'd tossed and turned, and her bed was undone for what was the third time that evening. She got up, tucked it all in once again and laid back down.

Barb had told her that taking deep and steadying breaths were helpful. But she'd taken many tonight and the last thing it seemed was helpful. With each exhale, she felt like she was losing it and with each inhale, she wondered if this was the moment her heart gave way, exhausted from being compressed with breaths she wasn't sure she wanted anymore.

This unbearable feeling had started when, earlier that day, she'd arrived late to the dispatch truck and there had been nowhere else to sit, save in front with Scotti.

In that second, Naomi had tried to think up any reason, even ludicrous ones, why she could not sit there with Scotti.

But they were already a minute late for an ongoing emergency and any other delay was cruel. She hopped onto the truck and sat still the entire journey.

Every emotion had run through her in those few minutes she sat there. However, the most highlighted ones were desire toward Scotti and anger at Barb. Anger because when she'd sat next to Scotti, she hoped that her emotions toward Scotti had died off during therapy. She'd hoped that her many sessions of confronting and sitting face-to-face with uncomfortable emotions had changed her in the way that she needed the most.

But when her heart had skipped each time that Scotti's hands moved on the steering wheel, she'd realized it wasn't so easy. Scotti had caught her one too many times staring at her, and her navy blue eyes looked confused and it made Naomi wonder what kind of a fool she must have looked like, drooling over someone who didn't want her anymore. When Scotti had run into the building that was only beginning to seriously go up in flames, Naomi had stifled the urge to run after her for protection.

At that moment, Naomi had flared up inwardly at the realization that nothing had truly changed. Everything she felt toward Scotti was still the same, if not even worse.

She'd stomped into Barb’s office without permission later that evening. It was a few moments before closing time, but Barb let Naomi sit down for the conversation she looked like she desperately needed.

Naomi began practically yelling, her voice pitched higher than her natural tone, scolding Barb. Midway, she'd burst into tears and Barb hadn't done much more than offer a tissue.

She'd listened to Naomi sob about how she expected that she'd be fine in a month or at least have some improvement. She'd said nothing as Naomi questioned her on why nothing was working.

Barb sat on the other couch as Naomi cried.

Barb waited until Naomi's sobs had reduced to occasional whimpers and wheezes before she stated that, in truth, Naomi was making a lot of progress, even though not as quickly as Naomi had expected.

As soon as Naomi had managed to pull herself together, she got to her feet and left without another word to Barb. She'd gone straight home.

Her house had never felt as empty as it did that evening. Everything seemed to echo and seemed like too much noise.

She didn't bother making dinner after she'd tried to get leftovers out of the refrigerator and there was nothing she could decide on. She couldn't eat mac and cheese without reminiscing on one of their dates when Scotti had spilled her mac and cheese wailing over a movie character's death she thought unnecessary.

The only other thing in the refrigerator was bacon and eggs and juice. The emptiness of it all today weighed down on the memory she had of Scotti always having something for her to eat by the time she came home. Scotti always meal prepped nice meals. She always had something nice in her fridge.

Naomi had trudged to her room and laid in her bed where she remained until night came.

She needed sleep tonight. She was too stressed not to have any. She'd had a busy week; in and out of the hospital, in and out of the fire department, and coming home to nothing exciting. She was exhausted to the core and sleep should have been awaiting her by the time she got to her bed, but insomnia was all that wrapped arms around her and stole even the blinks from her eyes.

She was left alone to her thoughts and worries. What if therapy was not the solution for her? What if she never got over this fear? What if she really died without anyone to miss her?

On and on her fears continued to climb, until she had to sit up to stop herself from hyperventilating to death.

Therapy was not going as fast as she envisioned. In the sessions, she'd told Barb just about everything. It was easier to talk about those experiences with time. There was even a time she let herself laugh again over a funny experience she'd had with Sasha. Barb told her that as soon as processed and grieved Sasha’s death, it was going to be easier to deal with whatever stumbling block there were between her and Scotti.

There was also another day when Barb had been stern to her. She'd told Naomi that if she didn't want to get better, she shouldn't have started in the first place. Naomi had wanted to put up a fight, but she knew Barb was right. So, she'd sat back and given it another chance.

Perhaps it was for all those reasons that she was so upset with what happened today.

Barb saying, “Give it time. Give yourself time,” rang in her ears.

How much time was too little time and how much time was too much time?

What if by the time she was fine, there would be no hope for her?

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