Free The Right Treatment by Tara Finnegan Page B

was tempted to hit the snooze button and roll over and steal another half an hour in bed. Matt would most likely still be sleeping; it was earlier than his normal wake-up time and he had said nothing about going with her. She could take a shorter route, and he would never know. Aoife headed straight for the front door without bothering with breakfast; her body hadn’t woken up enough for her to be able to face food.
    “Aoife, get in here,” Matt shouted as she turned the door handle. Fuck and double fuck. What the hell is he doing up at this hour? Dammit, what has a woman to do to get a little trust around here?
    “You can’t run on empty.”
    “I haven’t time to let it digest either, it will make me feel sick,” she countered.
    “Sit down. Now,” he insisted. The toaster popped and he handed her two slices of wholemeal toast and a banana. “This will keep you going; you may wait for your porridge until after the run.” Stupid porridge! Aoife hadn’t intended eating any breakfast there that morning. The shorter route she planned was to give her time for a chocolate croissant and double espresso on her way to that hell-hole Matt was forcing her to attend.
    “I hear they are looking for a new dictator in North Korea, you fit the bill perfectly.” Aoife muttered, her brain not awake enough to see the folly of her words. Fortunately he let it pass; in fact, there was almost a hint of a smirk on his face as he replied:
    “Thank you. Now eat, unless you want a spanking to spread on your toast.”
    Aoife used her knife to smash the banana down on top of her toast, taking all her anger and frustration out on the innocent piece of fruit. She wished it were Matt’s head. She angrily bit into her food and swallowed it without chewing.
    Aoife did the entire three miles route in less than forty minutes, running half of it, a new record for her. Although Matt ran alongside her, she didn’t speak to him, nor did he to her. She gritted her teeth and got on with her torture. She wondered how he intended to torment her for the remaining twenty minutes.
    “You’ve done enough for this morning. Go back to the apartment at a slow pace to cool down, then get ready for work. I’m doing another mile but I’ll be back on time to bring you to the rehab clinic. Do not leave without me.”
    Of course you will, she thought. God forbid that I might not go. And bang goes my café stop. She was sick at the prospect of the day ahead, and Matt knew it but he didn’t seem to care. Aoife knew she should be eternally grateful to Matt for all he had done for her, including taking time off work, and she was, but just once in a while, she wished he could show a slightly more human side. For a doctor, his bedside manner sucked. While she was waiting for Matt to return, Aoife heard her phone ping with an incoming text.
    “Wishing you well today. Don’t over-stress about it.”
    No name, and a number that she didn’t recognise, but there was only one other person who knew Matt’s plans for her and that was her psychiatrist. Aoife smiled. He was a kind man. He knew how anxious she was. Aoife had never expected that she would be able to open up to anyone like she had with him, but something about him was so approachable, so understanding. If only he were twenty years younger and single. Or better, if only he were Matt! Aoife almost envied Paul’s wife, another first as she was dead set against marriage of any sort. She had seen first-hand what it could do to people. She wished she could talk to Matt like that. She would even settle for being able to talk to him like she used to, back when they were kids, when he told her his problems and he supported her learning difficulties. Of course back then, she had still lied to him, pretended everything was fine, but he had known how hard it was for her, even though she wouldn’t admit it. Now Aoife was older and ready to talk, Matt never questioned her. He just assumed she was a spoiled little madam