I exhale into the phone, feeling a small smile form despite everything. “Listen to you, all wise and centered. When did we switch roles? I’m supposed to be the one with all the emotional clarity.”
“Well, that’s the power of a Mel Robbins audiobook on double speed. I can’t exactly make out what she’s saying at this rate, but the words subconsciously saturate, you know?”
A soft laugh escapes me. The line goes quiet after that, but there’s nothing awkward about it. Just a gentle calm between us. I close my eyes and focus on the sound of her breathing, steady and intimate across the miles, collapsing the distance for just a moment.
“What are you doing right now?” she finally asks.
“Staring at the wall trying to figure out my life.”
“That sounds productive.”
“Extremely. I’ve got the wall memorized now. Every crack, every scuff mark. We’re intimate.”
“Should I be jealous of this wall?”
“Absolutely. It’s a very attractive wall.”
Her laughter ripples through the phone, and the tightness in my chest finally uncoils. It’s like taking the first deep breath after being underwater too long.
“So how come you can’t come back?”
“Just delayed. I’m coming back to you. I promise.”
She hums into the phone. “Say that again.”
“I’m coming back to you. I promise,” I repeat obediently, making each word deliberate and weighted. Each syllable feels like a vow, like something I can anchor myself to in all this uncertainty.
“Good. Then why are you delayed?”
“There’s new evidence that might help my dad’s case. Rina found it and forwarded it to his legal team. Now they want to meet with me tomorrow to discuss next steps.”
“That’s good, right? New evidence?”
“I guess.” I stare at the ceiling, trying to find the words. “The evidence suggests the guy who testified against my dad might have falsified some of his analysis. Which means there could be grounds for appeal. Maybe a new trial.”
“Taio, that’s huge.”
“I know.”
“So why do you sound like someone just told you your dog died?”
Because Rina thinks he deserves to stay in prison. Because part of me agrees with her. Because I don’t know if I want my father free or if I just feel like I should want it.
“I don’t know how to feel about it,” I admit. “I mean, am I his son or his enabler?”
Charlie is quiet for a moment. I hear rustling, like she’s settling deeper into her plush bed.
“Tell me what you’re actually feeling,” she presses. “Not what you think you should feel. What’s actually going on in your head?”
So I spill it all out like water through a broken dam. How Rina dug up dirt on Wright that could blow the case wide open. How the appeal might actually happen now. Then my voice drops lower as I admit the rest—how Rina thinks Dad deserves every minute behind those bars, how sometimes I catch myself wondering if she’s right. The knot in my stomach when I think about sitting through another trial, watching those families glare at me from across the courtroom. The way I hate myself for not being the loyal son I should be, for feeling so damn tired of carrying his mistakes on my back.
Charlie listens without interrupting, which is unusual for her. When I finally run out of words, she’s quiet for a long moment.
“Wow,” she says finally. “That’s…a relief.”
“What?”
“I mean I felt like our emotional baggage was pretty mismatched in this relationship. But you just laid a lot of cards on the table. It’s good. Now, I’m not just a taker. See? That’s a lot of heavy stuff, Taio. Now I can be here for you too.”
