Disease

Soon into the drive, after taking the wrong turns several times, Afton was catching onto the fact that Oliver wasn’t taking her to the Drop Dead warehouse. She watched in silence as he turned down unfamiliar roads, ones she knew couldn’t possibly lead to where she had thought they were going.

“Oliver, where are you takin’ me?” she asked quietly, still rattled from the night before. As of now, Afton was just trying her best to get along with Oliver.

He didn’t reply, not even taking a glance at his girlfriend as he tightened his grip on the wheel and continued driving. The countdown had begun in his head now of how much longer it would take him to get where he was really trying to go. So far, his plan had gone smoothly. Until it was more than obvious that they weren’t going to the office. Maybe it was the desperation that hadn’t allowed him to think through this entirely, but if desperation was what had gotten him this far, he hoped it would help them as a couple to do this.

Afton sighed, looking out the window at the scenery flashing by. The silence between them now was yet another instance of how the communication in their relationship had basically disintegrated. The only thing they could do was stay quiet, not daring to say a word because they both knew only fights came from words. Only words started the fights.

They used to be so in love.

Five more minutes of silence had passed. Oliver didn’t even turn the radio on. The tension in the air seemed to be a bitter reminder of why he was driving so fast to get to their appointment on time.

“Oli, can yeh please tell me where we’re goin’?” Afton turned her head to look at him. His profile exactly as she had always remembered it, gorgeous and perfect. A huff of breath escaped from her mouth and Oliver still didn’t look at her.

“Yeh’ll see when we get there, alrigh'?” he snipped, his voice nothing but a mutter. For all of one millisecond, his eyes flickered to Afton. She sat in her seat, looking small and fragile as what had become usual these days. Her eyes were frightened, scared of where Oliver could take her. For once maybe her actions had caught up with her, that this was the end for she and Oliver, and that he was dumping her off somewhere now. “I promise it’s nowhere bad, okay? It’s… ’m takin' yeh somewhere to get 'elp for us.”

The words were quiet, small, and not revealing any of what was planned still. Somehow, they held comfort. A promise from Oliver didn’t mean a hell of a lot when Afton’s trust in him had depleted, but it was still something she took to heart. If what he said was true, then she shouldn’t have to be scared.

Maybe the scariest part was that they couldn’t even hold up a conversation in the half-hour car ride, like they had been able to hold a conversation for hours just weeks ago.

They were the prime example of how things fall apart.

Both of them were to blame, equally hurting the relationship, only in different ways and at different times.

Oliver maneuvered the car into a carpark, shutting off the engine and setting his hands on his knees. It was quiet before he could gather the words to say, to even think of what he should say.

He looked to Afton, watching her as she watched him. Both of their eyes locked and without even saying anything she silently demanded an answer. Oliver tried to understand, to realize that she wouldn’t like what was coming, and that of course she’s terrified not knowing what he’s making her do.

Simple words were the only ones aiding him at the moment. He took her hands, lacing his fingers through hers as his gaze dropped to their hands. Oliver noted in his head that their hands should look like this more often: together.

“Just trust meh. Please.” His eyes pleaded with her as well, begging for any amount of trust he could get.

Her eyes were focused on their intertwined hands as well, remembering how in the past their hands seemed to be inseparable, one complete unit that wasn’t satisfied unless laced with its other half. They were two halves, seemingly only complete when together. The sad part was they hadn’t felt together in weeks; only one day coming to rescue them and make it feel like things were right again.

“Okay.” The word ghosted from her lips, barely making a dent in the air. Oliver heard her though.

Both of them got out of the car, shutting their doors before hugging the other’s side and walking to the building Oliver had parked in front of. Their hands wrapped around each other’s, this time of need enough for Afton to stop caring and give into what she wanted.

“Trust yeh,” she whispered, her breath coming out in a puff of air while her hand tightened around Oliver’s.

He opened the door for them, letting Afton head in first before following close behind her. The office he was looking for was down the hall, two doors later on the right, so it goes. He led Afton across the carpeted floors, their footsteps muffled and their thoughts muted inside their heads.

The office was quiet once they were both inside. Classical music was playing from a stereo hidden inside a closet, the music easing both of their minds as they sat down on a couch in the little room. Another door was near them, a sign on it reading: PRIVACY PLEASE, SESSION IN PROGRESS. They stared at it. Suddenly the music was so calming.

Afton’s head whipped around to face Oliver, ice in her eyes while she was about to ask what the hell was going on now.

Before she could explode yet again, a woman emerged from the door with a calming demeanor radiating from her. Oliver smiled and looked up at her, dodging the daggers Afton threw with her eyes.

“You must be Oliver?” she said, her voice smooth and comforting as she looked to him. “And Afton?”

“Please don’t be mad at meh,” Oliver muttered, stumbling about the words as he pushed them out. Afton stood up with a huff, breaking away from Oliver’s grasp and walking two paces in front of him. They followed the woman into a larger room with a couch and three individual chairs. The couch sitting against a wall, while two chairs sat perpendicular to it, across from each other. The third chair sat across from the couch.

The woman took a chair across from the couch, next to a small side table with papers and binders sitting around it. Afton stormed to the chair left of the woman’s chair, Oliver sighing while he sat down in the chair across from Afton. The prayers he had about this appointment were in his mind now as he hoped nothing bad would happen.

“I’m Doctor Reynolds,” the woman said, smiling and looking first to Afton, whose face was suddenly hard and empty, then looking to Oliver.

“‘Ello,” Afton and Oliver said at the same time, their eyes swiveling up to meet the other’s upon hearing words escaping their mouths at the same time.

“Now, Oliver, yeh called meh a few days ago 'bout the relationship issues yeh and Afton were havin'. And 'm glad you did, because I can already tell there will be a lot to talk 'bout--”

“So yeh bring me to a fuckin’ therapist, Oliver?!” Afton nearly shrieked, cutting off the doctor in a fit of semi-rage. Just because she was in the presence of the therapist, she would hold back. Slightly.

“Af, can yeh not see we need ‘elp?” Oliver pleaded, his eyes begging Afton to just deal with this so their relationship had a sliver of hope left in it.

Just as Afton was about to come back with something, Dr. Reynolds stepped in. “Now, there are obvious problems. I want teh start from the beginning with yeh two, the early days of yer relationship all up until now.”

A sweet smile was sent at the two of them, despite that the atmosphere was anything but sweet at the moment.

Oliver did most of the talking, seeing as Afton had decided to sit back in her chair with her arms crossed, her lips nothing but a straight line. The only time she interjected was when Oliver had apparently said something wrong, his facts jumbled as he tried to recount exactly what the two of them had been through in the past two years of their relationship.

Dr. Reynolds said nothing as Afton and Oliver’s past was described. The only thing she did was scribble down on a notepad, alerting Afton as she tried to catch a glimpse of what was being written.

Afton noticed the way Oliver’s nose flushed red, along with the rest of his face when he had to talk about the days he had cheated on Afton with SJ. She watched as his eyes glistened over in pain. And the only thoughts she had were ones of ‘he deserves what he’s going through right now.’

Clearly something was wrong with Afton as well.

It took an hour for Oliver to give Dr. Reynolds the general story of what had happened, not trying to shed as much light on the shameful details of their relationship, but bringing them up nonetheless of course, because he had to. The next hour of the two-hour session Oliver had agreed to was going to be spent on convincing Afton that they needed therapy.

“Please Afton? We need this,” Oliver spilled, his throat getting sticky and thick as the painful memories of his past caught up with his tear ducts.

“Afton, I think with yer current diagnosis, and the obvious problems between yerself and Oliver, there’s nothing but progress teh be made between the two of yeh,” Dr. Reynolds said softly. She looked to Afton with indifferent eyes, knowing that only Afton could make the decision.

“Yeh didn’t even tell me, Oliver. Yeh fuckin’ lied to get me here. What else is there teh lie about now? Can’t even tell meh that we’re going to get 'elp,” she spat, tears running down her cheeks from listening to Oliver share what they had been through. She may have thought Oliver deserved to feel continuing regret for his actions in the past, but after hearing again and again about the times he had tried to fix things lately in vain, Afton started up. Feeling like things were falling apart between her and Oliver was one thing. Hearing Oliver repeat how hard he had tried to do anything and everything to get Afton to stop talking about dying, to start being normal again, broke her down.

“Because I knew yeh wouldn’t want to come on your own, Afton. I knew yeh would say no, say that we didn’t fuckin' need this because I’m the only one makin' mistakes,” Oliver said in a hard voice. His teeth gritted and his hands wringing each other like wet rags. “There wasn’t any other way to get yeh here.”