Page 118 of I Wish You All the Best

“But that was it. A phone number I couldn’t call, and an address to a place I couldn’t get to. I understand that you had to leave. That you couldn’t take it anymore, I’m not mad at you for that.” I wipe my eyes with my sleeve, and Dr. Taylor slides the box of tissues toward me. “But I was alone. I was alone and scared, and I didn’t really know what’d happened to you. You knew how bad they could get, and you just left me to fight for myself.”

For a few seconds, the room is totally quiet, save for my quiet sobs. Hannah’s staring at the place on the floor, and Dr. Taylor’s looking between the two of us. I guess maybe waiting for the next explosion.

“Ben?” Dr. Taylor’s voice is surprisingly calm. “Are you okay?”

“I’m sorry, I just …” I shake my head. “I didn’t mean that, Hannah, I’m sorry.”

“No.” She still isn’t looking at me. “No, I get it.” Then she buries her face in her hands and lets out this long groan. “Oh God, I can’t believe this.”

“I’m sorry,” I say, and then again. And again, like they’re the only two words left. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Why are you sorry?” Hannah asks, her voice made up half of laughter, half of sobs. “I’m the one who should be fucking sorry. The first chance I got I left that house and never looked back.” Her eyes finally meet mine. My eyes, our father’s eyes. “I fucked up.”

“Well, to be honest, in the sort of situation you two came from, there are rarely winners,” Dr. Taylor says. “Tell me what you’re feeling, Hannah.”

Hannah blows into a tissue, not the most graceful sound. “That I messed up.”

“Yes, well.” Dr. Taylor chuckles. “That I understand, but you must be feeling something deeper than that?”

“I’m just sort of confused, and angry with myself.”

“About?”

“How right Ben is.” She plucks another tissue, and wipes under her eyes. “When I left, I still thought about them, almost every day. Until, I guess …” Hannah’s voice falters, and she starts to shake her head. “My husband, Thomas, he didn’t even know about Ben until we’d been dating for a few years.”

“You didn’t tell him?” Dr. Taylor asks. “How did he find out?”

“We were unpacking. He found a photo album I took, and he saw Ben’s pictures.”

“So, you really did forget about me?” I stare at her. I don’t know why I’m shocked. This was a truth I already knew. Maybe I thought she could prove me wrong. That she’d admit to fighting for custody of me or trying her best to mail me letters only to have them intercepted by Mom or Dad.

But no. My own sister forgot about me.

“I didn’t forget about you, Ben,” Hannah says. “I just … had other things on my mind.”

“Ah.” I stare ahead. “Because that makes everything better.”

“Ben, tell me what you’re thinking.” God bless Dr. Taylor. If she wasn’t here to mediate this whole thing, I think we might’ve started tearing each other’s hair out. “Are you angry with Hannah?”

“I’m not angry,” I say. I don’t think I am, at least. “But it still hurts.”

Dr. Taylor nods. “And that’s perfectly valid. Do you ever think she could make it up to you?”

“She has, hasn’t she?” All the things she’s done for me. Jesus, I don’t have any right to be angry at her. The clothes, the food, getting me into school, giving me a bed.

“You’re still hurt, aren’t you?”

I nod.

“It’s a hard thing to forget, isn’t it? Even harder to forgive.” Dr. Taylor asks, “Hannah, do you think that’s where your willingness to help Ben comes from?”

“Well, they’re my sibling,” Hannah says. “I’d do anything …” Then she stops. “I like to think I’d do anything for them.”

“Except make sure they’re safe?” It’s odd how Dr. Taylor can keep something from sounding like an accusation. Her words don’t sound mean or directed at Hannah in some sort of personal attack. They sound like the truth. Simple and easy. “I’m sure it’d be easy to help Ben now, you two have reconnected, and you’ve been able to have an actual relationship. But back in January? After a decade apart, was it really so easy?”

“No.” Hannah breathes. In through her nose and out through her mouth. “Thomas and I, we didn’t sleep that night. After I went and got Ben.”

“Really?” I ask.