RSE CH 3 (Patreon)

Leo heard her and hugged Miss Hastings even tighter.

“Ah…” Her sigh was soft, but seemed to be a release of so much more than a breath. Surprise echoed in her sweet tone. 

When she twisted in his arms, he took a step back, but she followed him and pulled him to her tightly. Burying her face in his chest, she held him almost… intimately. 

Leo wrapped the mature beauty in the confines of his arms, holding her snug against him. The two shared their warmth, both of their hearts drumming in an exciting beat. A brief silence fell between them as they basked in this intimate feeling.

After a long moment, Miss Hastings pulled back and looked up at him. “Thank you, Leo. I am better now.”

Hearing her softly spoken words, Leo slowly released her, though he felt reluctant to let her go. The absence of her warmth against him left him with a sense of loss, though the smile she gave him eased that loss.

“Thank you for indulging me, Leo… both with your company at dinner, and just now.” She shook her head. “It was unfair of me to drag you over here for that, but it’s so lonely to eat by myself all the time…”

She shrugged. “When I decided to have you over to talk through your trauma, I got a little selfish and included dinner in it to.”

Leo hid a grin. “Dinner was delicious, and the company wonderful. Feel free to invite me over more often so you don’t have to eat alone.”

“Oh?” Miss Hastings perked right up. “I’ll have to take you up on that.”

Leo hadn’t expected her to all but pounce on the offer. He rubbed the back of his neck. “Though… uh… maybe on the weekends would be better? I don’t want you to get in trouble at school or have the gossip start up about you dating a student.”

She arched a sculpted eyebrow at him. “And why would that be a bad thing, Leo?”

“Uh… wouldn’t you get in trouble? Your job?” 

Miss Hastings threw back her head and laughed. “It’s not like I’m your teacher, Leo. Where is the impropriety of the school nurse and an attractive young man at the school where I work meeting outside the school?”

“I tease.” She reached out a hand and held onto his arm. “Though you need not worry about me or my job. Come, let’s get comfortable in the living room and address the original reason I insisted you come see me.” 

Turning, Miss Hastings led him by the arm into the living room to a long couch. Releasing his arm, she sat on one end of the couch and then patted her thighs several times. “Come on, then. Lay down and put your head in my lap.”

“In your… lap?” Leo’s gaze zeroed in on the inviting plushness her hands had patted. 

He gulped. Audibly.

The look she gave him softened. “Please?” she asked.

Nodding, Leo kicked off his shoes and lay down on the couch, carefully lowering his head into Miss Hastings’ lap. Looking up, he blinked—all he could see was the underside of her silk-blouse-covered breasts. His breathing hitched.

“Now,” she began, as one hand stroked through his hair, “close your eyes.”

Leo closed his eyes, but the image they had last seen—the underside of those glorious silk-covered mounds—was burned into his memory. Miss Hastings continued to run the fingers of one hand through his hair. With her other hand, she smoothed his brow and stroked his face. 

“Miss Hastings, I—”

“Shhh…” she shushed him. “Must you still call me Miss Hastings? We are well beyond formalities, I would think. Please, call me by my first name.” She giggled softly. “Call me Cherry.”

Leo cleared his suddenly tight throat. “Cherry…”

Her fingers pressed to his lips. “It isn’t time for you to talk… not yet. I’m first going to explain a bit about the common effects of significant trauma on people and young people in particular. Then, I’ll explain what we are going to do to start working through your particular trauma. Until then, you don’t need to talk… just listen.”

He nodded. It was a brief, jerky motion that revealed how nervous he was about all this. But he did manage to smile—even if it was a fragile one.

“Trauma affects everyone differently,” she began. “In most adults, it leads to Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, or PTSD, which can cause panic attacks, insomnia, depression, and any number of fear-based psychoses. This disconnection from reality makes it difficult for a person to tell the difference between what is real and what is not.”

As she spoke, Cherry continued to stroke his hair. It was very soothing… though her words were not.

“Children are even more vulnerable after a traumatic event.” She paused. “How old were you when you…” She stopped, then started again. “How old were you when your trauma happened?

“I was thirteen,” he replied, “… almost fourteen.”

“I know that was only eight years ago, but you were still a child, really.” Cherry sighed. “While not all children develop symptoms of traumatic stress following a traumatic event, many do.”

 Leo closed his eyes and focused on the sensation of her fingers running through his hair. He only half-listened, though—mostly because he’d heard it all before.

“Without telling me about your trauma, can you tell me about how your caregiving systems reacted to the event. What did your family do? How did your friends, your school… which I believe was the Vatican, at the time… How did they treat you?”

“My parents had to…” Leo’s throat got tight again and he had to stop. “They had things they had to do and weren’t around. Especially after…” His throat closed up again and he had to take several deep breaths before he could speak again. “My… other mother disappeared shortly after… the event. My parents were busy learning what they could to follow after her.” 

‘It was all my fault…’

He squeezed his eyes shut. 

Cherry didn’t speak. She only listened, eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“The Church… they excommunicated me, and I was kicked out of the Vatican,” Leo eventually continued. “My friends…” 

A sob threatened to escape, and he clenched his fists. “It… it wasn’t a good time.”

“I am so sorry, Leo,” Cherry said. She laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it. “Without going deeper into the specifics of the event or its aftermath, I’d like to do some freeform word association… alright?”

“Word association?” He opened his eyes and half turned his head to peer up at her. 

“I’m going to say a word, and I want you to tell me the first word you associate with it that pops into your head.” She fixed him with a calm gaze until he nodded and settled back against her thighs.

“Alright…” He took a steadying breath. “I’ll… I’ll do my best.”

Cherry started stroking his hair again. The silence stretched between them until she said, “Power…”

“Guilt.”

“Fear…”

“Guilt.”

“Control…”

“Loss of.”

“Mediocrity…”

“Safety.”

“Friends…”

“Dead.”

Leo shivered, and he couldn’t stop. Without warning, he sat up and buried his head in his hands. 

Cherry leaned forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“No, I… that’s enough… please, no more.” He stood. “I’d like to go home now.”

Cherry studied him for a long moment, before nodding. “Let me get my keys, then.”

***

The car ride home was quiet. Cherry didn’t disturb him, and Leo was too wrapped up in his thoughts to contribute to the conversation if she had said anything. When the car pulled up before his house, Leo opened the door and got out.

“Leo…” Cherry tried, then sighed. “I hope that didn’t scare you away. I know you have some deep-seated issues with guilt and growing stronger. I only want to help.”

Leo remained facing away from the car, his hand on the door. “I know.”

“I hope this doesn’t mean you won’t accept my invitation next week.”

“We’ll… we’ll see,” he said. “Thank you for dinner.”

Closing the car door, Leo walked to the front door of the house, opened it, stepped inside, and shut it behind him. Had he looked back, he would have seen Cherry Hastings watching him. He would also have seen the trails of tears that silently streamed down her face.