Page 36 of Pretty Nightmare

“Should I answer? Or should I shut the fuck up?”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Fine.” He looks the other direction. Over to the bare spot of earth where Nathan St. James used to have a cottage. “I’m shutting up now.”

“You know what I think is funny?” He doesn’t answer. He knows better now. “I think it’s funny that you are this man to everyone else but me.”

He huffs. “I have no clue what that means.”

“No. You wouldn’t. Because you can’t see yourself the way I see you.”

“Is this the part where you tell me I’m a horrible human being?”

“No. This is the part where I tell you…” He turns to look at me. “That you’re the kindest person I know.”

“Lies,” he whispers, his eyes darting back and forth as they search mine. “You’re just lying now. Just winding me up. Making me feel better because you’re gonna tell me something awful next.”

“Why would I tell you something awful? I don’t need to tell you awful things. You are fully and acutely aware of more awful things than I could ever imagine. You do very bad things for all the right reasons, Adam.”

“Oh, God.”

“And I mean that.”

“Yeah. I get it. You’re fucking pissed off at me for taking Maggie away. For not calling you and telling you the truth. For all those years I stole.”

“No. You really don’t get it. Because yeah, that was a shitty fucking choice. Really. Fucking. Shitty choice. But that’s not why I was mad at you. I was mad because you left me behind. You fucking dick. You left me behind and then I had to face the facts that I missed you. And I made a mistake when you came to talk to me on the beach that day when I was fishing. I made a mistake and I should’ve said yes. Because even though I wasn’t sure back then, I was very sure while you were missing that I would rather take a chance on something I didn’t really understand with you than be left alone at the end.”

He doesn’t want to smile. But he can’t help it. So he looks down at the water to hide it.

“You fucking dick.”

He laughs.

“It’s not funny. I’m not gay for you.”

He laughs louder.

“I just fucking love you, dude. And that kiss with Donovan last night? It was practice. So that when I kissed you, it wouldn’t be awkward.”

He’s speechless now. But he raises his head up and looks at me. And in this moment, he is that Adam. That sad, sad boy who would sit out on this dock all alone and wonder why things had to be this way. Why he was in the middle of it all. Why he was born into this family. This Company. With these people who say they love him, but don’t really love him. With these expectations that he be everything he hates about them. And even now, after fighting all these years to not be all the things he hates, he can’t escape the story they put him in. He’s a kid caught in a cycle. He’s a foregone conclusion.

He is Adam Boucher and nothing can change that.

“I have always felt sad for you, Adam.”

Any happiness he had at my confession falters now. “Why? I have everything. Why would anyone be sad for me?”

“When we first met up at my father’s house in Alaska, I saw it immediately.”

“You saw what, McKay?”

“You.” I shrug with my hands. “I saw you. And it made me so fucking sad that I left my whole family just to make you smile.”

“Jesus Christ.” He takes in a deep breath and runs his fingers through his hair. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“It’s not supposed to. It’s not about you, Adam. It’s about me. I don’t care who your father was or what he thought he was entitled to, the only reason I came home with you was because I chose to. And you can believe that or not. You can tell yourself your father made me. Bought me. That my father sold me. And that’s fine. Because that’s not false. It’s all true. But I chose you. And even if I’m the only one who ever believes that, it’s still true too. You can’t take it away. I chose you.”

He’s rolling his eyes and shaking his head. And I swear to God, I have not seen him so confused since he was a boy. “So how’s this end? Is it over yet?”