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I get up and shut my blinds without looking at him through the window.
James: Phoenix, I’m so sorry. You don’t deserve the things I said to you. I was caught off guard, but that’s no excuse. I shouldn’t have left. I should’ve listened to what you were saying instead of pushing you away. I know it couldn’t have been easy telling me about your past, and I wish I would’ve reacted differently.
James: Please let me say this to your face.
My heart urges me to respond. I know he didn’t mean the things he said. James isn’t a malicious person. I can understand that my suicide attempt was a trigger for him, and I know he needed time to process. Still, I can’t pretend that his reaction didn’t hurt.
Me: I really didn’t appreciate the way you spoke to me.
James: If I could take it all back I would.
James: I’m heading over to your house now. I’ll sleep on the porch if I have to.
Me: I’m tempted to let you.
But I’m already moving down the stairs with Wilbur at my side.
Forgiveness is what sets me apart from my mother. She’s cold and closed off, and I refuse to treat others the way she has treated me. She cuts people out of her life as if they never existed. But my heart is open and full of love, even when it’s bruised and broken.
If James wants to apologize, then I’m going to hear him out because everyone deserves a chance to be heard.
I open the door and try to remember how to breathe. James’s honey-colored eyes are bloodshot, and the skin underneath is a deep purple. His hair is a disheveled mess, and he looks like he hasn’t slept in days. He’s been struggling, and if I didn’t matter to him, he wouldn’t have lost an ounce of sleep over me.
“Phoenix, I’m so sorry I hurt you.”
“I know you are.”
“Then let me explain.”
I step back to let him in, and then I lead him into the living room.
James sits at the edge of the couch facing me and braces his elbows on his knees. “When you told me about what you did, all I could think of was my mother. It’s like it brought me right back to the day I found her, and all the anger and pain and resentment came rushing out at once. I guess I’ve been holding on to a lot more than I realized.” He reaches for my hand and holds it between both of his. “But you didn’t deserve to hear any of the things I threw at you, and I need you to know that I didn’t mean them. I was surprised, and I wasn’t thinking straight. I never want to cause you any pain or sadness, and I hate that I did.”
I nod as my bottom lip trembles. “It means a lot to me that you’re able to reflect on what you said and take responsibility for it. My mother was furious with me for trying to take my own life. But honestly? I think it was more of an inconvenience for her than anything. She didn’t care if I lived or died. She was worried about how it looked to her friends. She doesn’t believe that depression is as real as cancer. Do you know what she said to me when I woke up in the hospital? She said,If you want to die, then you’ll be dead to me.Those were the last words she spoke to me.”
James’s eyes widen. “But you’re her daughter.”
“Blood doesn’t mean shit to some people.” I shrug. “I’ve struggled my whole life with feeling less than. I wasn’t happy like my brother. I wasn’t as social as him. I didn’t make my mother proud like he did. My brain just isn’t hardwired the same way. So, when you walked out on me the other day, it felt like you were confirming all my worst fears. You confirmed what my mother taught me: That I’m not good enough for someone to love.”
James shakes his head. “No. That’s not true at all. My reaction was about me, and my issues.”
“I’m not going to hurt myself again, James. I need you to understand that. I’m not the same person I was two years ago. The depression will never be gone, but I’m managing it. I’m in control. And I’m working on myself to be better every fucking day. I’m in therapy facing shit I don’t want to face, and it’s hard. But I’m still doing it. I get up and I keep fighting.” I suck in a brave breath and prepare myself to say what I need to say. “I need someone who’s willing to fightwithme. I can’t be with someone who’s going to shut down or shut me out when things get real. I need you to talk to me. If something I say makes you mad? Good. Yell at me. Let’s fight it out together. I don’t want to hand my heart to someone and have him leave it on my doorstep as he turns his back on me.”
“I shouldn’t have left you like that. Like a fucking coward.” He shakes his head. “You shared a piece of yourself with me, and I don’t want you to think that I’m only interested in the good parts. I want to see all of you. I want the broken, jagged pieces, the ones you think are ugly and ruined, the ones you hide from everyone else—especially those. I want to be the one you can trust your heart with.”
A tear slips down my cheek. That’s all I’ve ever wanted. For someone to see the darkness in me and accept me—scars and all.
James tilts my chin and holds my gaze. “I told you I’ve got your six, and that means no matter what. I’m sorry that I made you feel otherwise. I am going to work on my issues with my therapist.”
“You see a therapist?”
“I’ve been seeing one since my mom died. Nobody knows.”
“You mean your dad and brother don’t know?”
He shakes his head. “Not even my partner knows. There’s a stigma attached to therapy when it comes to cops. We see the worst of the worst, yet we’re expected to be strong enough to handle it all on our own.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re talking to someone. It really helps.”
