In His Arms - Joey W. Hill Page 0,82

with it. “Yes, ma’am. She responds to it, really strongly. I don’t know if that’s an okay thing to encourage,” he admitted. Though he wasn’t sure how he could resist opening that door if he shouldn’t, knowing Daralyn’s response to that side of him seemed as well fitted as a key to a lock.

Dr. Taylor lifted a shoulder. “There’s this idea that if you hand a million dollars and a mansion to someone born into poverty, that it will solve all their problems. On the rare occasion, you’ll find someone who will make that work. Far more frequently, they will be unable to hold onto the money, or maintain the house, because they have no experience managing either of those things. That transition to prosperity requires time, guidance, a structure. It’s not at all unusual that in her first romantic relationship, Daralyn needs more structure.”

An assessment he didn’t disagree with, though he didn’t particularly care for the phrasing, which made him sound like the first stop on a much longer train ride, one that could take her from him. But he’d already acknowledged that possibility, so he wouldn’t get bogged down in it.

“For people from a toxic family dynamic like Daralyn’s,” she continued, “it takes years of therapy for them to learn to assert themselves in a positive, healthy way. As we’ve discussed.”

Her gaze met his. “Then there are people who are submissives from the beginning. In some ways, their road to recovery is… Easier is the wrong word, but they are the grasses that bend with the wind. They will always bend with the wind, because it’s their nature.” Her gaze sharpened. “She’s not a doormat. That’s not what I mean.”

“She’s a natural submissive,” Rory said, relieved he’d been given the opening. “She feels better when someone else has the control. But does she understand that giving someone that control is a choice? That’s the biggest worry I have, Doc.”

“Yes,” Dr. Taylor said, her finger stabbing her chair arm. The emphatic reaction, the strong approval in her expression, told him he’d passed an important test. “Thank you, Rory, for being the one to point it out yourself. The biggest danger a person like Daralyn will face in a relationship is having choices taken from her, purposefully or inadvertently, because she can’t make them for herself. At least not in the usual way most people recognize or adjust to accommodate.”

The woman leaned forward again, clasping her hands together on the top knee of her crossed legs. “I suspect your question connects to a specific situation. Would you like to discuss it?”

He hesitated. “I know she’s given permission for you to answer my questions. But I’m wondering if me telling you the things that happen between us, if that’s the same thing or something different. I don’t want to betray her trust.”

“Completely understandable. Perhaps you can find out her thoughts on it, in much the same roundabout way I have. If you feel like she is okay with it, you could save the questions in that problematic area for a future phone call.”

Good thought. But his gut told him not to hold off on the Joe thing. As he described how Daralyn had reacted to her professor’s attentions, with that adamant declaration to Rory about belonging to him, Dr. Taylor’s mouth got straight and firm again.

“I want to think about that one,” she said. “It’s difficult for me to say if that’s a destructive behavior, or just more of Daralyn’s thought processes I don’t fully understand. I made a couple mistakes early on, thinking I could match up what was going on in her head with other case studies. Every session with her is a maze. Sometimes I find myself in entirely new places, or wandering in circles. Other times I hit a wall, or she puts one up when I don’t expect it.”

Not much different from his experiences with Daralyn. In the doctor’s intelligent blue eyes, pleasant by default, Rory nevertheless saw indications of when she’d hit those walls and been frustrated, or deeply concerned. “Daralyn feels things so vividly, so strongly,” she said. “When I talk her through confusing feelings, she uses my advice as a sculpting knife, creating the path before her according to what works for her.” A quick smile. “The way all of us live our lives, really.”

She glanced at his chair. “I expect you have your own unique perspective on overcoming challenges.”

He guessed every shrink knew the stages of grief a person with a disability

readonlinefreenovel.com Copyright 2016 - 2024