Page 40 of Misery and Ecstasy

“No. His new relationship didn’t work out, and he tried crawling back to mom and me when I was eleven. But neither one of us wanted anything to do with him at that point.”

She grows quiet, and I try to think of something else to say, but she speaks again.

“Draven…” When her voice falters, I place my palm on her cheek to urge her to say whatever it is that’s on her mind. “Whatwereyou thinking about, or trying to do, the night that you crashed your bike?”

My eyes move from hers to the dresser across her room as I think about how to respond. I know the answer, but it’s nothing more than I was being incredibly stupid and reckless.

“Have you ever been in the worst kind of misery, the kind where pain or death feel like the only solution you have to get out of it?”

“I’ve been sad and lonely before, but I don’t know that I’ve ever felt what you’re describing, no.”

“Well… That’s the only way I can explain to you what was going through my mind at the time of my unfortunate behavior.”

She smiles at me, but it doesn’t quite meet her eyes.

“Thank you for sharing that with me.” I like that she appreciates my honesty, but what she says next knocks me back down a couple pegs. “I think if you can keep up with this candor, it will go a long way in your healing journey.”

Her words remind me that she’s still my therapist, and I’ll only ever bejusther patient. I’m not stupid enough to think this is anything more than getting caught up in lust and needing someone to cure the ache. I have no notions that this will go any further than it has today either. But I’m at a loss as to why her words make my stomach sour.

We’re quiet again as I mentally try to beat my feelings of rejection away. When I find it’s impossible to do so, I change the subject instead.

“What about your mom? Are you guys close?”

This time she groans, and a pain forms in my chest, thinking about my own mother.

“We’re close, yes. But… It’s complicated. She’s extremely clingy. She’s actually the one who called two times in a row the first day you were here. You’d think it was an emergency, right? It wasn’t. She just freaks out when I don’t answer.” She lazily trails a fingernail over my torso as her eyes flare with ire. “It took me ten minutes to talk her into getting out of her car and abandoning a rescue mission. She does that shit all the time. I moved two hours away from her, but I still can’t avoid the occasional unannounced visit. I feel like moving to a colony on the moon still wouldn’t keep her away.”

I fight the feeling of wanting to lash out at her. I would give anything to be able to see my mother, healthy, again.

“Sounds to me like she just worries about you.”

“Look, Draven, I know you had a close bond with your mother before she got sick. But not all familial relationships work the same way.”

I regret saying anything when she slowly pulls away and sits on the side of the bed. Wrapping up in the throw she draped herself in earlier, she stands.

“I need to hop in the shower. I have a few more things to do before my five o’clock gets here. There’s another bathroom downstairs if you need to clean up before you go.”

Getting the hint that she’d like me to leave, I sit up and let the sheet covering me fall to my hips. Mild amusement plays on my features as I catch her taking in my naked torso.

“No, it’s okay.” I pull the sheet from my body and sit on the edge of the bed, grabbing my boxer briefs from the floor. “I don’t want to keep you any longer. Besides, Atticus is supposed to help me start fixing my bike today.”

“Oh, that’s great.” Her hand lands on her chest, and relief shines in her eyes. As though she’s pleased I’m not pouting like a rejected puppy at her blatant termination of both our conversation and the bubble of lust we were just floating in. “I know you’re looking forward to getting that back up and running.”

I offer her a tight smile and allow her to mentally push me further away from her.

“I’ll lock the bottom lock when I go.” She nods her thanks to me before entering her bathroom and closing the door.

* * *

“Earth to Draven...” I shake my head, trying to clear my thoughts to focus on Atticus.

Reaching toward me, he motions to the wrench in my hand.

“Sorry, man.” I hand it over to him so he can fasten the bolt that holds my back tire onto the axle.

“All good. So do you care to share where your brain keeps running off to? I don’t mind fixing your bike, but it will get done faster if you help. If it will keep you focused to talk about it, by all means...”

“Fuck, Atty.” Staring at the concrete floor of the garage, I blow the breath from my lungs as I consider the implications of telling him what the doc and I did. “I wouldn’t even know where to begin.”

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