Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91140 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
He began to tremble.
I placed my hand on his knee. “Rafe, you can tell me anything. Why did you say that?”
He turned to look at me. “The morning she died, I told her I hated her. I was being really mean because I was mad that she’d grounded me for something I did. The last thing I said to her was, ‘I hate you.’ Then she went to work, and she died.” He buried his head in his hands. “I didn’t mean to do it. But when I told her I hated her, it did something. I just know it.”
He started to bawl into his hands. I felt profound sadness as I embraced him. How would I get him to understand he was wrong? Ultimately, I knew it was going to take more than me.
“Rafe, it doesn’t work that way. You can’t kill someone with words. You didn’t even mean what you said.”
He pulled away from me. “But what if she believed it?”
“People say things all the time when they’re angry. Adults know that kids don’t mean things like that when they say them. We know better.”
We sat in silence for a moment.
“Is that why you went quiet?” I asked. “Because you believed your words could harm people?”
He wiped his eyes as he nodded.
My heart ached for him. “I can understand how you might’ve drawn that conclusion, Rafe. It was really bad timing. But it’s not true.”
“How do I know you’re right?”
“You don’t. But you have to have faith. And it might take time for you to believe it. Have you told your therapist about this?”
He shook his head. “No. I’ve only told you.”
I sighed. “Thank you for opening up to me. But you need to let your therapist know, too, okay? You need to hear the truth from more than just me. I promise you didn’t do anything wrong. Your mom wouldn’t want you to feel guilty about it for the rest of your life, either. Your therapist will be able to explain that better than I can.”
His hazel eyes glowed in the sunlight as he ran a hand through his rough curls. “What if I never believe what you’re saying? What if I always believe it’s my fault? No matter what you or my therapist says?”
“Belief is a choice. You can choose to believe you didn’t harm your mom. You can build confidence in that choice until believing becomes knowing. That’s what your therapist can help you with. But she can’t help you if she doesn’t have this vital piece of information.”
He kept nodding. “Okay. I’ll tell her.”
I placed my hand gently on his arm. “Can I tell Dax about this? I know you don’t open up to him a lot. Would it be easier if I filled him in so he can make sure you get the help you need?”
Rafe paused. “Yeah. That would be easier. I don’t want to repeat this—not to him.”
“Okay.” I rustled his hair. “You’re going to be okay. I promise.” I took a deep breath, feeling grateful that he’d felt comfortable enough to make that admission.
More and more, I felt like the time was coming for me to tell him the truth about me. But we weren’t there yet.
• • •
The following day, I sat across from Dax in his office. The view of the city from his window was spectacular. But my eyes were mainly focused on Dax as he pulled on his hair after I’d given him the news.
“Oh my God. This fucking explains so much, Wren.”
I’d gone to see him in the middle of the workday so I could tell him about my talk with Rafe. Dax had to work late yesterday after Rafe and I returned from our outing. So I’d texted this morning to ask if I could meet him today because this was a conversation that couldn’t wait any longer and needed to be in person.
“Magical thinking can be dangerous,” I said. “All of this time you assumed he wasn’t talking to you because he hated you. He was probably just afraid of his own words, unsure of what they were capable of.”
Dax spun his watch around his wrist as he stared out the window. “That’s scary to think he believed he’d said something that caused her death.” He turned to me. “I can’t thank you enough for getting him to talk about this.”
I shrugged. “I didn’t do much at all. I just told him I’d lost my mother at a young age, too. That sort of opened the door. I didn’t see it coming.”
“He’s been comfortable with you for a while. You have that effect on people. If it weren’t for you, I’m not sure he would’ve ever told me this. He has a connection with you that he probably can’t understand because there’s no explanation for it. It’s innate.”