“Oh, I’ve dragged her to plenty of doctors, when we could afford it.” Paige scrubbed her hands over her face. “She’s tried all kinds of antidepressants and pills. Nothing ever worked. Most of them just made her sick.”
“A lot of people have unusual reactions to standard medications.” He knewthatall too well, having suffered through every side effect under the sun while his own physicians tried to find a formula compatible with his shifter metabolism. “It can take time to find the right treatment, especially for mental illness.”
Paige let out a brief, cynical laugh. “When you’re a woman, eventually doctors start telling you it’s all in your head, and you just need to eat better and exercise more. At least in my experience.”
“I imagine such doctors would have considerably more patience when the patient is a very rich white man, true.” He made a private mental note to get the names of those so-called doctors at a later date. “I see now why you’re so focused on reducing any sources of stress in your mother’s life.”
“If Archie could just stop turning into a bear all the time, I’m sure Mom would get better again.” Paige sounded like she was trying to convince herself as much as him. “She’s had her ups and downs over the past ten years, but she wasn’t nearly this bad before he started shifting. I think she’s worried he’ll getcaught one day, and the anxiety is eating her alive. Every time he transforms in front of her, I see her flinch. Meanwhile, Archie is so delighted with his abilities, he spends more time on four legs than two. And I can’t tell himwhyhe has to learn to control his shifting.”
He knew she hadn’t told him the truth in the hope that he could find a solution. She’d been on her own for so long, he doubted she could even imagine someone might be able to help. Yet his mind was racing. Turning the problem over, looking for a different angle…
“Paige,” he said slowly. “What if Archiecan’tcontrol his shifting?”
She stiffened a little. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been watching Archie for a while now. Even if he doesn’t realize exactly why you’re so worried about his shifting, he does know it upsets you. And he cares about you as much as you do him. I think that if he could control his shifting, he would.”
She drew away, her thigh no longer brushing his. “If you’re trying to convince me that the situation is hopeless so we might as well do what we want?—”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all. But maybe this isn’t something Archie can manage on his own. Maybe it’s time to consider other options.” Shit, she wasn’t going to like this. “Such as medication.”
Paige recoiled as if he’d suggested throwing Archie in a cage. “I’m not drugging my brother!”
He’d expected that reaction, given her mother’s less-than-successful history with doctors. “I don’t mean something that would stop him from shifting entirely. Just something to help him focus and control his impulses.”
“Absolutely not.” She’d moved far enough away that he could no longer feel the warmth of her body. “Anyway, even if some pill could magically suppress his bear, that’s not a solution. He hasto learn to control himself, not rely on some artificial chemical for the rest of his life.”
Her words cut like a knife across his throat. He’d known he’d have to tell her, eventually. But he’d thought he could pick the right moment. He didn’t want to expose his weaknesses now, when the future was still so uncertain. True, she’d admitted she had feelings for him, but they were for the man she’d seen. Someone who…
…Tried, and more often than not failed, and occasionally fell flat on his face in mud.
Maybe she’d already seen more of him than he’d intended to reveal.
He drew in a deep breath, feeling his animal’s silent support. If he was going to convince her to listen, he had to tell her the truth. Thewholetruth. Even the parts that he’d spent his entire adult life trying to hide.
“Wait here,” he said. “I need to get something.”
Before Paige could open her mouth, he was halfway to the office. By the time he returned, she’d just started to turn her head, expression slowly drifting toward complete confusion.
He slowed, dropping back to normal speed. “Do you know the difference between Archie and myself?”
When Paige spoke, she sounded understandably baffled. “Apart from…literally everything?”
“No.” Steeling himself, he opened his hand, showing her what he’d taken from his private locked cabinet. “This.”
Paige looked at the bottle of pills, then at him. “What’s this?”
“My self-control.” He hadn’t prepared for this, had no idea how she was going to react…but she needed to know. “I have ADHD. Severely.”
From the way her jaw dropped, he might as well have confessed to having a third arm. “You’re kidding.”
“I was diagnosed around Archie’s age.” He tucked his medication into a pocket. “Believe me, it was not hard to miss.”
“But you’re—you!” Paige flapped her hands at him, indicating his general Conleth-ness. “You make plans! And spreadsheets!”
“Yes,” he said dryly. “Because I have ADHD. I’ve learned that I have to be ruthlessly organized in every aspect of my life. If I’m not, everything goes to hell.”
Her mouth was still round with surprise, but her gaze turned more thoughtful. “I’d noticed that you fidget. When you’re thinking, or otherwise preoccupied.”
