Page 130 of Imperfect Player

“See what?”

“That it’s okay to need someone. That someone just might need you.”

The stupid timer Brad sets each day on his phone goes off. He extends his hand to me. I place mine in his and shake it.

“I, uh . . . I don’t think I could have done this without you,” I tell him.

“And I don’t think you can continue on without her.” He shrugs. “I’m proud of you, Ethan. The progress you’ve made. The things you’ve overcome. I’m always here if you need me.”

“I appreciate it, Doc.”

Letters in hand, I leave his office for the final time.

It’s time to start my road to recovery.

On my own.

My first stop: my parents’ house.

Chapter 40

Ethan

I stand on the front porch of the very modest home.

It’s much larger than the apartment I recall living in as a kid. Better maintained too.

It’s nothing fancy, but it looks like a good home. A family home. One that I would have loved to grow up in.

Those are the thoughts that I have to quit dwelling on though. Regardless of what my childhood was, my present is fucking amazing. No one, least of all them, can take away what I’ve built, who I’ve become.

I’m Ethan fucking Ambrose, and I’ll be damned if I allow myself to ever forget that again.

After dozens of sessions with Dr. Monroe, I’ve learned that they are the problem, not me. I didn’t do anything to push them away or make them leave me. They were the ones that couldn’t handle it.

And Ben?

Ben is just as innocent in all this as I am.

For the first time in my life, though, I feel like I have family. I have Ben. And while I can’t be his donor, I sure as fuck can be his brother.

I slide my sweaty palms against the denim on my legs. Who knew that facing a ten-year-old could be so tough? They’re unjaded, accepting. This should be a piece of cake, and yet it takes every ounce of strength that I have to raise my hand and knock on the door.

“Ethan,” my dad says when he opens the door. The look on his face tells me that he’s surprised to see me. I’m sure he is after the therapy session that I forced him and my mom to endure a few weeks back.

I needed to tell them. I needed to get off my chest what they did and how it affected me. While they were both very apologetic, they weren’t filled with regret. For whatever reason, they still believed they did the right thing. So I blasted them. Told them to go to hell, that I don’t want them in my life anyway, and that frankly, I was better off without them. Had it not been for their shitty parentage and their abandonment, I wouldn’t be where I am.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m not going to thank them for being assholes, but I sure as fuck am not going to let it affect me anymore either.

For all the issues I have, I still made something out of myself. Something better than I ever could have been if they had stayed. That’s what I need to focus on. Me. My life. Ben.

Even though they didn’t come right out and say it, I know that if not for Ben, they never would have reached out.

Ben doesn’t need to know the truth. Not the whole of it, anyway. The kid is enduring enough between the cancer, the treatments. So I spun a version of the truth that I think will be palatable for him, because what he does need is his brother. A brother that will most definitely have his back at all costs.

“I’m here to see Ben,” I tell him.

“Don’t do this,” my dad pleads with me.

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