Page 59 of Drifting Hearts
“I want to pause you for a moment. What do you mean he let you off the hook? Because he chose to let go of his anger?”
“I mean… yeah.”
“I don’t think he’s still not holding you accountable; he’s just doing it in a way that’s healthy for him. If anger wasn’t suiting him and his desire to heal, then it’s a good thing—for him—that he was able to let go of it. Has he welcomed you back into his life? Or offered to partner with you again?”
I snorted. “No. Of course not.”
“Then he’s still holding you accountable, but in a way that works for him. Some people seem to have no trouble holding on to anger for years and years and years. But it almost always eats away at them. It’s okay for people to be mad at you, but it’s also okay for them to not be mad at you. Their anger doesn’t have any value to you. It doesn’t make what you did any worse or better. It doesn’t have a voice in how hard you’ve worked with me and outside these sessions.”
“I just feel like he should still be angry. It makes me feel guilty that he’s not. That, after all I did, he’s still so good that he doesn’t even hate me for it. And then I feel worse for screwing him over.”
“Guilt is healthy. It shows remorse. That you knew what you did was wrong. It’s okay to feel bad about doing something bad. But now I want you to ask yourself if you’ve only ever done bad things? Or are there good things you’ve done too?”
If she’d asked me a week ago, I would’ve told her that I’d never done anything that was good. But then I remembered Michael. When we got back, I promised to teach him more about drawing.
“There was this kid…” I told her about Michael and how good it had felt to help him. To have a positive impact on his life. Even days later, it was like I was still riding the high from it. Talking about it made me animated, like an old forgotten part of me suddenly came back to life.
As our session was wrapping up, Theresa took off her glasses and set them aside. She steepled her fingers and made eye contact with me through the screens. “I want you to remember, Clay, that you are capable of doing good things as well as doing destructive things. And that the choice between the two is always yours. You always had the power to do wonderful things, to be the kind of person you can be proud of.”
My future was still very much up in the air. I had no idea what I was going to do with my life. I didn’t want to go back to being a tattoo artist. Nothing made sense anymore. Except for Kieran and the way he made me feel.
I might not have the answers, but I didn’t have to find them alone. When the therapy session was over, I stowed the laptop away and locked our cabin behind me, then set out to find Kieran.
I took my time going down the trail. The wind blowing through the leaves sounded like the rustling of paper. Birds called to each other in the trees, out of sight from me. I heard the river before I saw it, and then I saw Kieran standing by the bank with his hands tucked in hispockets. He was still as a statue, like the river had put a spell on him. Then, as though my approach had broken it, he turned and looked at me.
His smile was blinding and I nearly stumbled. My heart did cartwheels in my chest and I found myself smiling back at him.
“God, you look good like that,” Kieran said when I went to him and wrapped my arms around his middle.
“Like what?”
“Happy.” Kieran ghosted a kiss against my lips. “You look like it went well.”
“It wasn’t horrible.”
Kieran never asked what I talked about in therapy, but I knew if I wanted to tell him that he’d listen.
Kieran draped his arm over my shoulder and slowly steered me in the direction of the falls.
“I got a call while you were busy,” Kieran told me a few minutes later. “It’s good news, but you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to.”
Anticipation made my spine tingle and I sucked in a breath to try and steady my rapid pulse. “Okay… what’s the news?”
“Part of what my mom does is help people rebuild their lives. It’s more than just giving them a safe place to get back on their feet. She’s really put the work in, fostering connections in the community. Getting resources for people who need them is kind of her thing. And she’s found you a job, if you want it.”
I stopped dead in my tracks. “A job?”
Kieran’s smile was wide and I could tell from the happy gleam in his eyes that he thought it was a wonderful bit of news he was about to relay. “It’s not glamorous or anything.”
“I don’t care,” I said, my excitement mounting.
“Have you ever been to the recreation center in town?”
When I shook my head, Kieran smiled again. “It’s not much. A pool, some conference rooms people can rent, and a small art gallery. The rec center hosts a bunch of programs during the week for kids, teens, and adults. Basically, they need someone to help clean up after the programs and get set for the next one.”
“And I get to do that?” I was unable to breathe for a second. Kieran waited until I collected myself, his already bright smile beaming even more.
“The pay isn’t great.” Kieran’s smile did falter at that, but I shook my head.
