“Yep, it’s true.”
Her eyes brighten like she’ll have something good to tell her friends tomorrow at lunch.
Emily widens the door so her daughter can pass. “Willow, inside please.”
Willow examines me with an inquisitive gaze before she resigns to her mother’s pleas. And then she slips indoors and out of sight.
“You named your daughter after a Buffy character?” Maybe we like the same things, I stupidly think. Probably because Willow strangely does.
She frowns. “What?”
“The televisions show,Buffy the Vampire Slayer?” She’s still confused. “Never mind.”
“What do you want, Loren?” she finally asks. “What did you think would happen by coming here?” Her voice lowers and the door begins to close so I can’t see past her body and into her house. I can’t see the life that I never would’ve had. “You’re twenty-one. You’re an adult.”
“You’re not my mother. I think I got it,” I say roughly. Ihatethat I don’t hate her. Not even a little bit. I take a step back, my eyes flitting over the house, over something that I don’t want to destroy. I ruin everything I touch.
And I’m not going to mess up her life. Even if mine is all fucked up. Right as I’m about to leave this all behind, something else catches my eye in the window.
A girl. A child. No older than two or three. She peers through the glass, clutching a stuffed dinosaur. I see me. Growing up and being lied to. Never knowing about my brother and finding the answers in the most jarring, horrific way. The secrets. The betrayal.
I face Emily again. She seems at peace with her decision and her life, but she’s repeating the same mistake as my father. As Sara Hale. She doesn’t see it now, but the lies she weaves will eat at her family from the inside out.
“You should know,” I say, “that even though I’m not your son, I’m still their brother.”
Her lips press in a line.
But I keep speaking. “And maybe you don’t see it like that, but take it from someone who’s been in their situation before—theywill.” I think of Ryke. “I’m not saying that you have to tell them about me now or anytime soon, but they’ll find out eventually. If not from the press, then from some stranger, and they should hear it from you.”
“I’ll keep that in mind,” she says shortly. “Anything else?”
Fuck you. I can’t say it though. I don’t really feel it. More like,Fuck me. For being so stupid.For thinking you’d care.
I shake my head, everything draining from me like I’ve been slit open on the sidewalk. I take another couple steps off the stoop, glance up at the three-story brick house. Middleclass family. Happy. Normal.
I turn around and never look back.
CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN
LILY CALLOWAY
With Lo in Maine,he wanted me to skip my therapy session with Dr. Evans today, but the therapist called me and said that if I skip, he’d contact my parents and tell them how poor my progress has been. So I sit alone in Dr. Evans’ office, constantly checking my phone. Lo said he would call after he sees Emily. If their meeting doesn’t go well, I’m worried that he may choose to escape with alcohol. I really wanted to go, but at his request, I’ve stayed here.
Dr. Evans applies the electrodes to my wrist and hands me the small black box with all the wires poking out. He nestles behind his desk in his seat, wearing a smug look. He loves the fact that Lo isn’t here to interrupt the session.
“So are we doing magazines again?” I fidget in my seat, a little nervous to be doing this with only Dr. Evans in the room. When Lo’s here, it feels less weird.
“I think we should move on to another compulsion today.”
I try to wrack my brain. What else could I conquer with aversion therapy besides fantasies and porn?
His eyes drop to my thighs. “It would have been easier if you wore a dress or skirt, but I think you can manage.”
My heart bangs against my ribcage. Maybe I heard him wrong.
“I want you to masturbate. You’ll be shocked until your brain responds to the negative stimuli.”
Oh my God.
