“This isn’t a mess up,” Ren promises. “You haven’t signed this new contract, have you?” I shake my head. “Then it’s not a mess up at all. Besides, mess ups are necessary sometimes. They are stepping stones to getting you where you need to be. Some people call them obstacles, trials, hurdles, but I know that they’re just part of the path you’re walking.”
“My path has a lot of deep, dark pits.”
He chuckles and for some reason, it brings a small smile to my face. I’m not feeling particularly smiley. There’s no happiness in me at all. Not right now.
“Then you’ll climb out of them,” Ren says with conviction.
His confidence in that makes me inhale deeply, as if I can bring his words into me. I want to breathe in his assurance, his belief in me. Make it a part of me so that I don’t keep falling into the pits.
“You do a really good job of letting the world see only certain parts of you,” Ren says quietly.
“My dick, but not my face?”
This time he laughs, and his laughter makes me smile for real. I don’t move. I’m not sure when the last time someone touched me as a gesture of comfort, but I don’t want to lose the soft touch of his hand rubbing my back right now.
“Your smile instead of your struggles,” he counters.
“But I shouldn’t be struggling,” I say, and my father’s words come tumbling out of my mouth. “I’m living a very privileged life. I have more money, more blessings than most people, so I don’t have anything to complain about.”
His hand pauses. It’s brief, but then it’s moving over me. “Mental health has no bias.”
I bite my lip. My mental health is fine, though. Isn’t it?
“Come here. Look at me, Felton.”
The pit that’s almost always in my gut deepens. I can taste it in my mouth as I force myself to sit up and look at him.
Ren is a good-looking man. He’s got big arms and hair that I’ve always wanted to touch because it looks so soft and he keeps it on the longer side. He has a shadow of stubble on his face and his eyes are this dark, warm mahogany brown that is just so pretty. There’s always a simple black elastic around his wrist that he uses to put his hair up when it’s in the way.
I swallow and stare at him. “You need to know when to ask for help.”
“I shouldn’t need help,” I whisper, my father’s words once more echoing from my mouth.
“I think we both know that’s not true. Don’t we?”
It feels shameful to agree, but I nod because Idoneed help. With life. Not just contracts or my fucked up brain, but just… with everything. I hate having to face decisions alone because I always make the wrong one. According to my father, I even pick the wrong suit to wear to a game!
“Here’s what we’re going to do. You’re going to go to bed and sleep. You’re going to sleep fine because you’re going to trustthat I will be back in the morning, and we’ll talk about these contracts in detail. Then we’ll call my lawyer friend, and we’ll tell him what’s up. If you’re comfortable after speaking to him on the phone, we’ll send him the contracts. While he looks them over, we’ll talk about the other pits you fall into and see how we can drop a rope ladder in so you can climb out.”
I wait for him to ask, ‘okay?’ I expect that he’s going to wait for my input. My agreement. But Ren doesn’t. The relief I feel at just being told what we’re going to do tomorrow is almost so extreme that a shiver makes my entire body visibly shake.
“Yes,” I say. “Yes, thank you.”
I’m not sure he truly understands how grateful I am for this. Someday, I hope to tell him in a way that he really understands how deep that gratitude runs.
NINE
REN
We talkto my lawyer friend and he sets Felton at ease. I’m not at all surprised because Imry just has a way of doing that. Like he knows the exact tone and kind of handling someone needs and fits that role. It’s probably why he’s so good at what he does.
He doesn’t generally take on contract cases, but we’ve been friends for a while. The first couple of years I was in college and looking for an agent, I roomed with Imry. He was a law student then and asked if he could look at my prospective agent contracts as a ‘real life’ practice scenario. It worked out well for both of us since he had something to really sink his teeth into and I had someone who was studying this shit to critique my contracts.
Over the years, I’ve sent most of my new contracts to him. The one time I didn’t and he saw me in an ad for something, he called me up offended. So yeah… Imry will always be my contract lawyer, even though that’s not his area of concentration.
Not that I know what his focus is, actually. He’s not the kind of lawyer that goes into court. I’m not entirely sure what he does. All I really know is that he works for his family’s law firm.
We spent the next several hours after the conversation with Imry talking about other things that he’s struggled with. I learned just as much by what he didn’t say as I did from what he confided in me out loud.
