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I nod. “Yeah.” My throat feels tight.
“Your wife is pregnant, isn’t she?” she asks gently. I nod again.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t seem like the kind of man to walk out on his family,” she says. Just hearing it put like that sends a shiver up my spine and angers me.
“I’m not running out on my family” I say through my teeth. “I’m protecting them. I’m not balanced right now. I might not ever be. At any moment, I could slip and use again. If I’m not strong enough to stay sober.”
“How long were you sober this last time?” she asks curiously.
“Over five years.”
“And why did you start using again?” She knows why. But I humor her.
“I took pills for my knee. It needed surgery. And then, well, Leroy Ellison arranged to make me use drugs. He wanted revenge.”
It sounds so ridiculous out loud. Like something from a movie.
She stares at me. “You just said, he made you.”
“He did.”
“So you wouldn’t have chosen it,” she points out.
“But I chose to take the muscle relaxers for my knee,” I tell her and I’m angry now. I want her to stop trying to make me seem better than I am.
“But those were laced with methamphetamines,” she reminds me.
“Yes, but…”
“No buts,” she says gently, yet firmly. “They were laced with the most addictive substance known to man.”
“Yes,” I admit. “But…”
“No buts,” she says, getting up. “We’ll resume this session after dinner.”
She leaves, and I’m not hungry. I slip Mila’s ring on my pinkie.
It makes me feel close to her. Like I’m close, but still far enough away not to hurt her. It rips my heart out. I close my eyes and rest until the therapist comes back.
* * *
The therapist is relentless.
“Do you see the parallels?” she asks me after an hour. “Between the way you are behaving right now, and how your father behaved when you were small?”
I’m silent.
She smiles. “You see it. He checked out. He felt that distance between the two of you would protect you from his grief. He felt that he would hurt you with words that he couldn’t seem to control. That he might accidentally blame you for killing your mother. He knew it wasn’t your fault, but his heart was still healing. So he put distance between you.
And here you are. You know in your head that your addiction right now isn’t something you chose. But your heart is telling you to protect your family from harm.”
“The harm is me,” I tell her. “I’m the danger.”
“Life is dangerous,” she points out. “There is a risk in everything. But you are a good man. You are strong and loyal and true. That’s all we can ask of you, Pax. That’s all anyone can ask.”
“You don’t understand,” I tell her helplessly.
