Lennon:Yeah I bet you hear that all the time.
Asher:Contrary to popular belief, I’m not a man whore, Lennon.
Lennon:Yeah, that’s exactly what I was concerned about. Now what do you want?
Asher: I was hoping we could get together to work on being reckless, you know? The task you were so eager to complete?
This back and forth gave me far more pleasure than it should have. I knew it was firing her up.
Lennon: Listen, I have a fucking life, okay? I can’t just drop everything at your beck and call. I’m getting sick and tired of your rich-boy attitude, trying to run the show. I went easy on you yesterday because you had your stupid man cold, but clearly that’s gone. So it would be fucking great if we could hash this out during group session time so I don’t have to see you any more than I’m fucking obligated to. I know that’s not what you’re used to, but I’m not like anyone you’ve ever met. Everyone else has given in to your demands and your entitled fucking ass.
I read her response, frustration flaring instantly. She always seemed to know exactly what nerve to hit. She had no idea who I was, and I thought that was what bothered me most. She took me at face value and decided I wasn’t worth her time. Just the single impression that she had of me, and it was that.
Asher:Whatever, Lennon. You’re the one that wants to get this shit done so badly. Ball’s in your court. I’m out.
I huffed out a sharp sigh and tossed my phone on the bed beside me. For fuck’s sake, she was so maddening. I hoisted myself up and headed for the shower, desperate for hot water and something to shake this feeling off.
As I approached the ensuite, the scent of breakfast and coffee drifted up from downstairs. My stomach growled. I decided I would head down there after, hoping to run into my mom—and only my mom. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with my father. His constant disappointment in me lately had sunk in deep, twistinglike a knife I couldn’t pull out. I couldn’t make it stop, and neither could he.
After rinsing off in the shower, I hopped out and wiped the steam from the mirror, catching my reflection. There I was—seemingly healthy. The poster boy for what health looked like. My body was still in shape; nothing like before, but close enough. My face looked bright, my hair freshly shaved. No wonder she saw me the way that she did.
I hung my head and envisioned her—her arms wrapped around my neck, fingers running upwards, digging into my scalp.
The thought made my lips part slightly as my eyes fluttered open.Fuck.She was infuriating and incredible at the very same time. She was right when she said she was nothing like anyone I’d ever met.
I hurried out of the bathroom, grabbed my phone, and decided to call her as I sat on my bed. I pressed it to my ear and let the rings carry on—one after another—until her voicemail finally picked up, announcing to the world it was full. Disappointment filled throughout my body.
Trying to calm myself before facing my family, I opened social media and started scrolling. There were the familiar faces of the girls and guys I’d known in college, some even from high school who had moved on with their lives. They looked happy. Normal. Living these normal fucking lives while I felt stuck, not able to reach the potential I so badly craved.
As I scrolled, I saw Ben and Dave playing basketball at the outdoor courts a few blocks from my place. Judging by the likes and comments, it was posted this morning. The caption stated,Buckets with the boys.
I’d never been one for self-pity, but at that moment, I allowed myself a few minutes to sink into it. My friends were drifting away. I couldn’t be fucking normal with them. My dad wasdisappointed in his son. My brother and I were pulling apart. It wasn’t supposed to be this way.
Goddamn it.
I pushed myself off the bed, tossed the phone back onto it, and headed downstairs for breakfast.
I jogged down the stairs in a careless manner. My mother sat at the table, chatting with my father.
“Well, good morning, sleepyhead,” she greeted me, her tone bright.
I didn’t miss the way my father glanced up at me over his newspaper and gave a brief nod. That was the most I could get out of him these days. Part of me wanted to duke it out with him—say that he was shitty, tell him that I couldn’t fucking help the situation I was in. But the bigger part of me didn’t have it in me anymore. It was already waving a white flag.
So I let it win. I just couldn’t. Not for me. Not for my mother.
“Morning. Did you cancel your morning meetings?” I asked, noting that she was typically gone by this point in the day.
“We wanted to talk to you this morning about something important,” she said, still holding that smile that I couldn’t quite read. It might be truly genuine, or it might have been holding back far more than it let on. She was always good at control with things like that.
I looked between the two of them, unease creeping in. “Well, what’s the big news?”
They exchanged a glance. My mother reached for my father’s hand, offering it to him. When he took it, she met my eyes again. “Um, well there’s no easy way to say this,” she said softly. She glanced over at my father, who dropped his gaze.
He cleared his throat and finally looked me in the eyes. “Well, Asher…I had an affair on your mother a long time ago.”
The words landed like a sucker punch to the gut. I’d spent my whole life watching them love each other. Even with my dad’sdemanding career in policing—always seemingly more tainted than the rest of us—he’d always had eyes for her.
I looked back at my mother, her smile finally breaking as tears filled her eyes.
