Lost Melody by Lori Copeland Read Free Book Online

had to admit the weekly sessions did help. Within the walls of this office she could vent her frustration, or mourn her loss, or literally scream at the unfairness of life, without fear of damaging someone’s opinion of her or, worse, evoking their pity.
    She folded her hands in her lap and inhaled a long, slow breath tinged with the faint aroma of lemon-scented furniture polish. “Normal twenty-five-year-olds have jobs. They go to work every day. They don’t hover in their houses to avoid meeting people on the street who might ask, ‘How are you doing, Jill?’ or say, ‘Such a terrible thing, that accident.’” The doctor’s face blurred behind Jill’s tears. “Greg’s going to be a politician. He deserves a wife who can help him win elections, not onewho runs from the public. Not one who can’t even look at a piano without wanting to cry, or has dreams that give her panic attacks.”
    “Panic attacks?” The doctor crossed one leg over the other and bounced a high-heeled shoe in the air. “That’s new, isn’t it? You haven’t mentioned a panic attack since a few months after the accident.”
    Jill rubbed her eyes with fingers that came away wet. “Last night was the first in a long time. I’m not even sure that’s what it was. I had a really terrible dream, and when I woke up I couldn’t shake this feeling of …” She attempted a dismissive smile, but couldn’t quite manage it. “Disaster. Like something terrible was going to happen.”
    Doreen clicked her pen open and closed. “It’s
normal,”
she smiled as she said the word, “to dream of a devastating event like the one you went through. You know that. You’ve dreamed before.”
    “Yes, but this was different.” She paused, searching for a way to describe the intensity of the experience. “This one was far more vivid.”
    “Do you need something to help you sleep? I can have my secretary make an appointment for you with Dr. Bookman.”
    Dr. Bookman was the prescription-happy medical doctor Jill had seen off and on since the accident for medical checkups. Quick with the prescription pad, and the bedside manner of a hyperactive terrier.
    “No, I still have the prescription I got after the accident. I took one last night, in fact.” She scowled. “It didn’t stop that dream from coming.”
    “Well, that might be a contributing factor. A common side effect of some sleeping pills is the occurrence of abnormal, vividdreams, and you are approaching the anniversary of the event. That’s always a traumatic time.” She settled back in her chair. “What about the flashbacks you mentioned last week? Still having those?”
    “I don’t know if I’d call them flashbacks,” Jill said quickly. “It’s not like I’m reliving the accident or anything. They’re just haunting memories, details of … that day. And of the people.”
    “Of Robert.”
    Jill looked at her hands. “It was just so strange, that instant affinity between us. Not romantic.” She glanced up to assure herself that Doreen didn’t misunderstand. The woman nodded, and she looked back down. “I’ve never met someone who could read me so thoroughly in such a short time.”
    “He died holding your hand.” The doctor’s voice was soft. “It’s natural that you would feel close to someone with whom you’ve shared such an intimate moment.”
    “No, it was more than that. We had a kinship from the moment we met, even before the crash.” Her throat tightened. “It was as if I’d known him forever. I think we might have been good friends if he had lived.”
    “And yet, you haven’t made any attempt to find out more about him. Who he was. Where he lived. What he did for a living.”
    Jill didn’t answer, just shook her head.
    “Why do you suppose that is, Jill?”
    A jolt of irritation jerked her upright in the seat. “I don’t know.” She ground out the words through clenched teeth.
    “All right.” Doreen’s tone remained coolly dispassionate as she