Total pages in book: 100
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 99736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 499(@200wpm)___ 399(@250wpm)___ 332(@300wpm)
“Where is he?” I ask again.
“Emergency therapy session.”
A wave of defeat crashes over me, dumping a bucket of cold water on my head.
I can’t walk away because I don’t want to lose him, but I can’t stay or I will.
This is a lose-lose situation.
23
Anderson
“So what’s the real reason behind your panic?”
“If I knew that, I wouldn’t need you, would I?” My usual snappy tone is absent, replaced by some angry guy I don’t know.
When I started seeing Karen, I thought it was pointless. I thought she couldn’t help me, and I’d often fight her on everything she said. I mean, I still do that, but it’s in more of a sarcastic fun way instead of this, where I’m too upset to play nice with anyone.
I’ll apologise later, but right now I need to be a twat.
Because I’m past sad. I’m past emotional. I’m so far past angry, I don’t know how to get back.
I’ve worked for months on trying to get myself to act like a normal human being around Brody, and in a thirty-second window of meeting his father, my walls are back up, my breathing stilted, and just the memory of kissing Brody is tainted by the memories of being accused of being the instigator in my assault.
Brody’s dad deposed me before the trial. He asked questions that would make anyone sound like a liar and emphasised incidents to make it appear like I was the aggressor in my relationship with Kyle. Like bringing up the time Kyle put a tracking app on my phone and I threw it against the fucking wall.
Kyle was the one keeping tabs on me, but I’m the aggressor here because I threw my phone? Sure.
“Were you upset at seeing Kyle’s lawyer again? Did you have an episode where you relived the court case, or were you focused on Brody and what it means for your relationship?”
“What relationship? We’ve fooled around a couple of times and fucked once. That doesn’t make a relationship.”
“And now you’re belittling the progress you’ve made with him because you’re scared.”
“Of course, I’m fucking scared.” I thought I was on the path to getting everything I thought I’d never have again, and now I’m reminded that I’ve always been right. I don’t have the strength to fight for what I want.
I’m undeserving because I can’t get past this.
“Brody’s father was only doing his job, and that has nothing to do with Brody himself,” Karen says.
“No, but they’re related. Brody does the same job as his father. How can I be with someone who treats another human being like that? Job or not.”
“Lawyers need to be able to compartmentalise between their personal lives and professional ones. Everyone has the right to legal representation, and those lawyers vow to represent their clients to the best of their ability.”
“I know,” I mumble.
“I think this is going to be a good test for you. An exercise in being able to face aspects of your past without having a panic attack. You’ve been doing really well and facing a lot of things you refused to those first few years of therapy. I don’t think this is a bad thing.”
“No, no, it’s definitely a bad thing.”
“Because you’re going to shut Brody out and not deal with it?”
Exactly.
But I don’t answer her.
Karen writes that down. “What do you need from me this session?”
“For you to tell me it’s understandable to run away.”
“It is. It’s one hundred percent understandable, and a lot of people in your situation would do it. But you’re better than that, Anders.”
“Am I? I don’t think I am. I don’t think my track record of having my twin brother break up with guys for me really indicates I’m the best person I can be.”
“Then answer me this. Are you going to send Lawson to break up with Brody for you?”
I squeeze my eyes shut. The thing between Brody and me is nowhere near done. I want to explore it more, but I don’t think I’m strong enough.
I’m never strong enough.
* * *
The drive back to Law’s place is silent between my brother and me. The sound of the wind passes through the open window, the low hum of the engine lulling me into peacefulness for the first time tonight.
Law taps his thumb to the beat of some music I’m tuning out, and I stare out the window as suburbs blur into each other as we whip through them.
Here I am again. The pressure of life sitting on my chest. The urge to wrap myself in a blanket cocoon and live there forever outweighs the need to be a functional adult.
When we’re about five minutes away from the house, Law finally speaks, giving up on waiting for me to do it first.
“So, how long have you and Brody been a thing?”
I try to school my reaction by biting the inside of my cheek. “Who says we’re a thing?”