Page 15 of Edge of Unbroken

“It’s okay, Ronan. Remember, anything you tell me is confidential,” she says, her voice soft.

I scoff. “Yeah, I have first-hand knowledge how confidential the things I tell you during session are.” I’m pretty sure the things I shared with her are exactly the reason I’m here in Montana right now.

She smiles at me. “With a few rare exceptions,” she says. “But whatever you tell me about having used drugs is not something I’d be able to share with anyone. So?”

“Yes,” I say.

“What kind of drugs?”

“Weed and sometimes pills,” I tell her, feeling shitty.

“Ever anything harder?”

“No. That shit scares me,” I say, truthfully.

She nods, taking notes. “How old were you when you had your first experience with weed and pills?”

“Fourteen.”

“Have you had sex, Ronan?”

I’m taken aback by her forwardness. But Doctor Seivert doesn’t appear uncomfortable as she looks at me, expecting my answer.

“Yeah, I have,” I say after several more seconds of silence.

“Any one-night stands?”

I shake my head now, confused. “How in the world is this relevant to what my mother did to me?” I ask, my voice tense.

“It’s very relevant, Ronan. You just told me that you aren’t doing anything unhealthy to cope with your mother’s abuse, but I think that you have, in fact, adopted coping mechanisms—very common ones, actually. You just aren’t aware of it. So, please. Any one-night stands in the past?”

I nod at her as her words begin to sink in and a pattern emerges for me.

“How many?”

“I… I don’t know, but… a lot,” I say, my voice small. God, she must think I’m a fucking dick.

“Can you give me an estimate?” Her voice is kind, soft as she asks me about these exceptionally personal aspects of my life.

I take a moment to think, truly attempting to come up with a response, but I find myself unable to give her a number. I shake my head sheepishly. “No, not really. It’s… I did it a lot. I’m not proud of myself, but…”

“Have you ever had unprotected sex?” she asks, looking at me through the screen.

“No,” I say with conviction, but then reconsider. “Well… actually…” I start again, then stop and decide not to tell her that the only time I’ve ever slept with a girl without a condom was with Cat, who’s the only girl I’d ever want to feel like that. “No, I’ve never hooked up without at least a condom.”

She studies me for a moment. “Why not?”

I make a face at her, feeling like she’s trying to set me up. “Uh, because I don’t want to get some nasty-ass disease or get a girl pregnant?”

“Right.” She laughs lightly. “How old were you when you first began having one-night stands?”

“Fifteen,” I say, matter-of-factly. This is all way too personal.

She nods as she looks down and studies her notes. “So, let me summarize this really quick: you occasionally drink to take the edge off, but you don’t like to get drunk because you don’t like the feeling of losing control; you’ve dabbled in drugs, but nothing hard because that scares you; and you’ve had one-night stands, but never without protection because you don’t want to risk your health or a pregnancy. Does that sound right?”

I nod. “Way to pay attention,” I say like an ass.

She only chuckles. “Interesting.”

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