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CLAY

“And I just...Idon’t know, I don’t understand how someone can do that,” Mick muttered from his spot in the circle, staring down rather than at the rest of us who were in the group to listen to each other’s problems. “I mean, we built a whole life together and then it just...it fell apart. We’d just had twins, and already had two kids at home, we needed the money, and I was doing what I could to make sure they were taken care of.”

“Did you ask anyone else what might have caused it?” Dr. Ramirez, one of the therapists who came to Arete, asked gently. “Sometimes perspective can help, not to place blame, mind you, just to understand a little better.”

“Depends on who you ask,” Mick said with a snort. “A lot of people said I should have been home more, or helped more when I was home, but I was working almost eighty hours a week. All I wanted was to be home with her and our kids. I thought maybe if I kept working, if I kept taking care of things, they would...work out. But they don’t, do they? They don’t work out.”

I looked across the circle to find Isaac listening carefully but not having said a word for the forty minutes or so we’d been here. I had agreed, with some persuasion from a really irritated Reggie, to participate in group sessions. In desperation, I’ddemanded it would only happen if Isaac went as well, completely forgetting he was the sort to agree. Not that either of us had participated so far, but I was the one who had agreed to; Isaac had only agreed to come.

I really needed to pay attention to the fine print.

To my surprise, Mick looked right at me. “What do you think?”

“About what?” I asked, panicked. Jesus, was I supposed to give him the answers to his problems? That wasnotthe kind of power anyone should give me.

“That shit doesn’t work out,” he said, his expression so goddamn miserable and desperate that my panic only increased.

I grunted. “I’m not the one to ask, I’m shit at this kind of thing. Ask that jackass, he’s better at it.”

Mick followed my gaze and looked at Isaac, who was rolling his eyes at me. “Are you?”

“I don’t know if I’mbetter,” Isaac said, and I knew the emphasis was on my behalf. “But I know that in life, you can do everything right, or everything you think is right, and still fail. It’s not a great part of life, and it sucks beyond belief, but failure doesn’t make us who we are, or at least, it doesn’t have to define us. Maybe you did everything right, or maybe you did everything wrong, or maybe it was a mix because that’s what humans are, a messy mix. But things can still turn out right, or at least better than we fear.”

“That is close to what I would have said,” Dr. Ramirez said, tilting his head curiously at Isaac. “This is our first time seeing you here, Isaac. Would you care to introduce yourself now you’ve spoken up?”

“Sure,” Isaac said, and I had to admire the way he didn’t flinch when all eyes turned to him. Not that he probably wasn’t used to being the center of attention, but it had to be somethingelse completely being put on the spot to talk about your problems. “Anything in particular?”

“Just give us a little insight into who you are, what you did before coming here, your pet’s name. Anything at all,” Dr. Ramirez said.

“And I thought this sort of introductory ‘game’ was reserved for school,” Isaac said with a small smile, getting a chuckle out of some of the group. “As you know, I’m Isaac. I’ve been here for a little over a month, and...I’m not quite sure if this place is working for me. Due to the work I was doing up until recently, I was in a weird place mentally. It’s complicated, but I realized I’d lost sight of myself along the way. I didn’t have dreams or aspirations; I didn’t strive for something other than to be better at what I did, and everything else...stopped mattering. Once I realized that, the pieces came together, or should I say, I realized how many pieces had been missing for some time. So now I’m not sure who I am anymore, and because that’s no way to live, I found my way here, and I’m hoping I can find the answers I want.”

One of the guys, Ian, looked up. “What did you do?”

Isaac hesitated; it was a small thing, and probably went unnoticed by most of the group, but I could see it when his eyes shifted away before speaking. “I was an escort.”

“Like a whore?” Ian asked bluntly, and I bit back a comment about his mother that was right on the tip of my tongue.

His lips thinned slightly, but Isaac smiled. “A whore gets paid only for their body. An escort gets paid for their company...and their body.”

“So, a fancy whore.”

“Less simplistic than the first explanation, but yes,” Isaac said, and I had to resist the urge to throw a chair at Ian.

“Shit,” Ian said with a chuckle. “No wonder you’re here. I ain’t never met someone who does shit like that who isn’t fuckedup. Hooker, stripper, or whatever the fuck you call yourself, they all end up fucked in the head.”

I turned before Isaac could say anything. “Keep running your stupid ass mouth, Ian, and the only thing that’s going to be fucked up is the shape of your thick head.”

Ian sneered. “Oh, does someone got a crush? Just because you wanna fuck him to find out if he’s any good doesn’t mean?—”

“Clay,” Isaac called out firmly as I got up from my chair so fast, I sent it clattering back. “His ignorance doesn’t bother me. Don’t.”

“Ignorance?” Ian asked, turning on Isaac, and I swore to God, if he even so much as inched toward him, I would?—

“Yes, ignorance,” Isaac repeated calmly. “It means a lack of understanding or knowledge about something. It’s not an insult, but an observation.”

“Alright,” Dr. Ramirez finally said, standing up. “That is enough. Clay, take your seat, please. You know violence is strictly prohibited, especially in here. And Ian, you know full well we don’t tolerate attacking other people, even verbally.”

“Wasn’t an attack,” Ian muttered, but crossed his arms and looked pissy.