“Right?” I say. “I don’t… know what to do with that.”
“How does it make you feel?” he asks, eyes on the road again.
“Like I’ve been emotionally stabbed,” I say. “But, like… cleanly? In a controlled medical setting?”
He snorts. “Only you.”
“It’s just…” I exhale. “He said he’s proud of me. Twice now. That’s like… a record. And he wants to listen to you. Not yell. Part of me wants to believe that’s real. And part of me is like, this is how you die in horror movies.”
Miguel nods slowly. “We can take him at his word,” he says. “And still go in with armor.”
“Is that allowed?” I ask.
“Hell yeah,” he says. “We can set boundaries before we even get on the phone. If he starts getting weird, we can say, ‘We’renot answering that tonight.’ We can hang up, Caleb. You know that, right? You’re allowed to hang up on your dad if he starts hurting you.”
The thought makes my stomach flip.
“Yeah,” I whisper. “I know.”
Do I believe I’d actually do it?
Different question.
He pulls into the lot by the condo and parks. The sky outside is almost fully dark now, the building windows glowing warm in patches. Miguel kills the engine and turns to me fully. “Hey,” he says. “You did something huge yesterday. You’re still standing. You went to therapy. You ran practice. You’re here. That’s a lot.”
“I feel like I got hit by a bus,” I say.
“Emotionally, you did,” he says. “I’m proud of you.”
The words land somewhere deep and messy. Between Dad, Dr. Kaur and Miguel, my internal “proud” meter is cranked to eleven.
“Thanks,” I say, voice small.
He reaches over and cups the back of my neck, thumb stroking my jaw. “You coming in?” he asks. “Or do you wanna sit here and spiral in the truck for a bit first?”
“Can I do both?” I ask.
He smiles. “Yeah. Just… do it inside, where there’s blankets.”
We climb out, grab my bag from the back, and head up to the condo. The space smells like popcorn and the candle he burned last week and never relit. As I drop my bag on the couch, my phone buzzes again.
Dad
Whenever you and Miguel are ready, we can set a time to talk. No rush.
I mean that.
Miguel looks at the screen over my shoulder. “You wanna answer now?” he asks.
I stare at the words: no rush. I mean that.
“I think,” I say slowly, “I want to wait until after your first session. And maybe after we talk with Dr. Kaur about, like, ground rules.”
Miguel’s eyes soften. “That sounds like a good plan,” he says. “You can text him that you got his message and you’ll let him know, just so he doesn’t think you’re ghosting him completely.”
I nod and type out the words.
Caleb
