I cleared my throat again.
“What do you mean?” I asked.
“I’m…adopted.”
His eyes darted back to me, the piercing blue unnaturally bright from the overcast light spilling through the windows. There was a challenge here, like he was expecting me to pity him, or react negatively, which was insane. Even if I wasn’t bound by a certain level of professionalism, reacting negatively to a revelation of that level was just downright immature.
“Okay,” I said a little slowly, but evenly. I let the silence grow after my reply, hoping he’d elaborate. When he didn’t, I asked, “And…you don’t like that you’re adopted?”
River chewed his thumb again before blowing out a breath. He buried his hands in his hoodie pocket before speaking. “It’s…irritating.”
“I’m sure,” I replied, but he shook his head.
“My parents are nuts, and they’re not even my parents. I didn’t ask to be adopted, but I’m supposed to be acting so grateful, and for what?” He scrubbed a hand down his face. “I shouldn’t be telling you any of this.”
“It doesn’t mean anything, River. I’m not going to share this with anyone. Whatever you tell me stays in this room.”
River looked at me for a long, long stretch of time. His gaze didn’t show whether or not he found me lacking, but then he blew out a breath and I sagged in relief. For whatever reason, he’d decided to trust me.
“My fake mom is nuts. She thinks she’s my real mom.”
“Okay,” I said slowly. “An adopted mom is still–”
“No,” he cut me off. “Don’t do that. I mean, she’s convinced herself she gave birth to me.”
“Oh,” I reared back. That was…
“It’s fuckingderanged,” River said, speaking faster as if he couldn’t keep the words in any longer. “It fucking kills me, too. Like, I remember my actual mom, and this woman tries to convince me I don’t. Isn’t there a word for that?”
“Gaslighting,” I answered. “When someone tries to manipulate your reality, sanity or perception, it’s called gaslighting.”
“That!” River snapped. “She doesthat. And my fake dad is all,‘listen, son, she is the way she is’.So I just play along so she doesn’t lose her fucking mind and cause a cyclone.”
I furrowed my brow.
“I’m speaking figuratively, obviously,” River muttered, slumping back in his chair.
“Obviously,” I replied. “Well, it’s not your responsibility to manage her emotions.”
River looked at me, then blinked a few times. “It’s not?”
“No,” I said slowly. “They adopted you. They’re the parents. It is never a child’s job to manage their parents emotions, relationship, etc.” God, I was such a hypocrite. Even as I spoke, part of me knew I was referring to myself. “Her mood is not your problem.”
River nodded, his expression finally softening in a way that told me I was getting somewhere.
“Is that all your not-father has to say?” I asked.
River’s lips twitched, but he didn’t smile. “He knows she’s nuts but he’s obsessed with her, or something. I don’t really get it.”
I nodded. “He loves her.”
“Fuck that,” River scoffed. “If that’s love, count me out.”
“Agreed,” I muttered, staring at the empty place on my bookshelf where my geode had been.
There was a knock at the door, and River sprung to his feet.
“Am I good to go, doc?” he asked, already backing toward the door.
