“Can I ask you a question?”
“Isn’t that your job description?” I deadpanned, angry again at Elena for making me confront thesepainful memories. Then, I ducked my head, ashamed. “Shit. Ignore me. I’m…”
My heart aches, my burns hurt, and I’m tired.
“Your admin records say you don’t want your parents to be informed of anything that happens here or to be given updates on your health or wellbeing. Nor your sister Jessica.”
“No.”
“Can you tell me more about that?”
I hated the way she phrased her questions. I wish she would just come out and ask me what she wanted to know.
“Like what?” I asked, suspicious of where she was taking this.
“Why don’t you want to see your family?”
“Mom cries whenever she looks at me—as if it hurts her. And Dad… Dad just stayed quiet. Stoic. In the hospital straight after, he would pat my arm and tell me everything would be okay.” I huffed a humorless laugh. “So no, I didn’t want that… I didn’t need that.”
Elena didn’t rush me or offer feedback. She waited, letting me sit with it, and somehow, that made it worse. The silence stretched between us, heavy with unsaid things. She wanted me to expandand include Jessica, and I wasn’t sure I could do that. I didn’t want to share that.
“Do you still feel that way?” she asked when I stopped talking.
I wanted to be honest. “I don’t know.
“Was it to make yourself feel better. Or them?”
“I think… I think I didn’t want to hurt them anymore.” I stared at the envelope again. “But they kept showing up. Every time I hit rock bottom, they were there, even when I told them to go because I didn’t deserve for them to stay. Then, when I came here, they kept asking to see me, but I finally had the chance to stop them.”
“You say you don’t deserve?—”
“I don’t want to talk about that today.”
“Okay. So maybe you have reconsidered seeing them?” Elena asked.
I didn’t know. Part of me wanted them to forget they’d ever had a son. To wipe me from their memories and move on without the weight of my mistakes dragging them down. But another part of me needed my mom to hug me again. Press her hand to my face as she used to when I was little, telling me to be brave and strong. I needed my dad to squeeze my shoulder as he always did, look me inthe eye, and tell me everything would be okay, even if it wasn’t.
“I don’t know,” I said, my voice rough. “Can we be done now?”
“Of course, Tyler.”
I left the room feeling raw, so I went to the garden to seek quiet. I sat at a wooden table hidden around the corner, tucked away from the main path. The cold air felt harsh in my lungs, grounding me.
The door opened, and Marcus appeared. My breath hitched before I could stop it. Seeing him felt like a splash of cold water—sharp and sudden, dragging me back to the present. The tight coil of frustration loosened for a second, and I focused on him instead.
He was on his phone, gesticulating as if he were conducting an orchestra. His hand cut through the air as he paced back and forth.
Marcus was lithe and compact, and every movement was deliberate. His short hair—with streaks of bubblegum pink—stood out against the dreary afternoon light. Tattoos snaked along his forearms, disappearing beneath his sleeves, and I wanted to check out the stories inked into his skin again.
I shifted closer to the edge of my seat, drawn to him, and that was when he turned on his heel, pacing back toward me—and caught me staring. His face brightened as he ended the call, slipping his phone into his pocket and walking toward me. “Hey,” he said. “How did it go with Elena?”
I smirked. “You know, all hugs and rainbows,” I said. “Therapy’s great like that.”
Marcus grinned at my sarcasm. “Good,” he said with an exaggerated smile as if my bad attitude was some victory. He turned to leave but then stopped and turned back. “Hey, you want a coffee? I’m due a break.”
I shook my head. “Not sure I want to go out.” The truth was, I wasn’t ready to face the outside world. People stared. The scars twisting down my neck made me stand out, and sometimes, it felt like their staring crawled over me, turning my skin raw all over again.
“No,” Marcus said. “It’s all good. I meant I’d get some stuff and bring it out. Maybe grab…” He checked his watch. “Lunch.” He pointed at me. “Wait here.”
