Breaking Through

Chapter 15

15

Hilary

“I don’t think you should erase that fear from your list,” Dr. Walker said. She was seated on her chair, notepad in hand.

I crossed my legs on the chaise long. “I don’t want to just erase that item from my list. I want to throw my list away.”

After wallowing in my apartment almost all day Friday, I finally gave in and called my therapist Friday night. She rebuked me for not having called sooner and scheduled an appointment first thing on Saturday morning. And that was why I was at her office, confessing my embarrassing panic attack in front of Gui and Hannah at 7:30 in the morning.

“Why would you give up this easily?”

I snapped my head at her and gaped. “Easily? I tried. I really tried and even had a freaking panic attack!”

“You had panic attacks before and you didn’t give up.” She set down her notepad. “How many panic attacks have you had this year?”

I counted in my head. The one from two days ago, then the one in May during a final exam, another one in February when Evie’s husband showed up for the first time at the women’s center and threatened her and me. And before that, one in December, but that didn’t count as this year. “Hmm, three.”

“By this time last year, how many panic attacks did you have?”

I rummaged my mind, but couldn’t remember the exact numbers. “I don’t know, four?”

“Seven,” she said. “I think three is an improvement from seven, don’t you think?”

When she put it that way … “It doesn’t matter. Obviously, this is the wrong way to go about my fears.”

She leaned back in her chair, tapping her pen on her notepad. “Explain.”

“I already did. I tried and I had a panic attack.”

“So you’re giving up.”

“No. We just have to find another way.”

“There aren’t many ways to go about this, Hilary. And the list is a great way to progress. You just have to stick with it a little longer. Take some time off from it. Don’t go to the ranch for a couple of weeks. Avoid talks about horses and whatnot, but once you’re feeling better, once you’re sure you can’t feel a panic attack around the corner, try again. You owe it to yourself to try again.”

I sighed. “The old don’t give up meme.”

“Yes. It’s old, but it’s true. You know you won’t succeed if you give up now, but there is a good chance you might succeed if you try again.”

“I’ll think about it,” I said, not really feeling it. But I had to say it, otherwise she would bother me about this for a long time.

“Good. Meanwhile, I want you to visit the women’s center. Try to make more friends there. Some of them need more help than you do.”

“Like Evangeline.”

She nodded. “Like Evangeline. Help her and that way you’ll be helping yourself too.”

Leaving Dr. Walker’s office, I made a mental note to go visit Evangeline sometime during the week, but as soon as I got back home and looked around—and still had no clue what to do for my design project for school—I decided there was no better time than now.

So, I called her, intent on asking her to go to the movies with me or meet me for coffee, but my heart hurt a little when I found out she was at the women’s center. Again.

Without thinking, I just turned around and drove there. I stopped by reception to ask about Evie, when a nurse came over from behind the desk and gave the receptionist some fliers.

“Please, hang these up somewhere,” the nurse said, before turning on her heels and marching away.

I stared at the fliers as the receptionist set them aside. It was about self-defense classes that would be taught here at the center. That was new. I wondered if Evie would like to take those. It would come in handy if things got too ugly with Mike. I groaned; things were already too ugly with Mike.

Finally, the receptionist turned to me.

“Evangeline is in the garden,” she said.

Of course.

I found her seated on one of the benches hidden among the flowerbeds in the garden. Her eyes were swollen and red as if she had been crying.

I sat down beside her. “Want to talk about it?”

She shook her head and then sighed. “I don’t know.”

“It’s all right,” I told her. “We can talk about something else. How’s work?”

She groaned. “Not good. I’ve been arriving late and sometimes missing an entire shift, because …”

Okay, not a good topic. I remembered she commented the other day about exercising, to take her mind off the bad parts of her life, to feel a little better. I asked her about that.

“I don’t seem to find time to exercise,” she answered.

I knew what she meant by that. It was Mike. It was always Mike. Jealous and possessive the way he was, he didn’t let her go to the gym.

Everything I could talk about involved Mike. So, instead of asking about her, I told her about me. Actually, I told her about Hannah. She already knew a lot about Hannah, of course. Everyone in town knew since what had happened to my sister and me, and to Eric, ended up in newspapers and on news channels everywhere. But Evie didn’t know much about my sister’s wedding. Not yet.

I set out to tell her about the engagement party, about the preparations, about the dress, trying to paint it as a fairy tale.

“If Hannah can find her happy ending, you can too. I’m sure of it.”

Evie looked me with tears in her eyes. “Not just me. You too.”

I sucked in a sharp breath. “I …”

She went on. “I know I wallow in my problems and pity myself too much, but deep down, I have to believe there is something better out there. For me.” She offered me a small, forced smile. “And for you too.”

The hot water in my bathtub was almost too much for my sensitive skin, but I didn’t care. I needed this alone time, this soaking time, to recharge.

Although, my sister and our friends didn’t think so.

Two minutes after settling in the bathtub, lying back, closing my eyes, and hoping I would take a late nap, my phone started dinging like crazy.

Hannah: Are you meeting us at the event? Or should we pick you up?

Bia: It’s almost parteeeeee time! This event is going to rock. What are going to wear?

Iris: I can’t decide. Can I send you pics and you help me choose?

Gabi: Droga, I wish I were there! I want to go to the party too!

Hannah: Hil, you’re going to the event, aren’t you?

Bia: I’m thinking a little black dress with cowboy boots. To make a statement, you know.

Iris: I love polo, I love our boys, but some of these events are just exhausting. I would prefer staying home, snuggled with my man, watching some boring movie.

Some of the messages had been sent in private to me, some had been sent to our girls’ group. Even though I didn’t answer any of them, I couldn’t help but grab my phone and read the texts with each new ding.

Hannah: Hilary, why aren’t you answering?

Because I didn’t want her to try to convince me to go. She would make me feel guilty, and I would relent, even though all I wanted to do was relax in my bathtub, then settle in my bed and read. Or design a new dress. Or work on my school project, the one I hadn’t started yet.

I understood how important this event was to the guys. Their sponsor, Jeep, was opening a new store in Santa Barbara and, of course, the team would be the special guests. The event organizers had even set up a small field with fake grass so the guys could play polo for fifteen minutes. It was supposed to be huge and reporters from the newspapers, magazines, and news channels would be there. I was happy for them. Attention like this was great. It brought money to their sponsor, to them, to their team, and they could keep playing and winning longer.

I just didn’t feel like I needed to be there. I didn’t feel like being among a crowd, cameras, and attention right now.

The next text was the one that shocked me.

Gui: Hey, Hil. You’re coming to the party with us, right?

For some reason, I wanted to reply to him. What would I tell him? That I had given up on my list of fears and had declared myself a coward who was hiding from her life? No, thank you. I preferred staying silent and letting them imagine whatever they wanted. Surely, it couldn’t be worse than the truth.

A new message from Hannah followed, again asking why I wasn’t answering. This time though, she threatened to call and, if I didn’t answer that too, she would stop by on the way to the event.

Groaning, I typed a text to her.

Me: I think I have a cold. Took some meds and I’m in bed. Going to sleep now. Have fun!

Then I turned off my phone before she could call me and accuse me of lying.