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“I’m not fucking putting him on medication when I’m not sure what’s causing his issue.” I stopped to get a grip and lowered my voice. “Excuse my language. But I’m not going to blindly treat him when he can’t even tell me what’s going on in his head. Is it depression? Is it anxiety? A mix of both?” I pulled on my hair. “Anyway, a meeting would be fine. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”

“Mr. Moody, I really am sorry for your predicament.”

If I had a penny for every time someone said they felt sorry for me, I’d be richer than I already was.

“Thank you,” I said.

After I hung up, I decided to clock out early.

The only thing that brought me out of the ever-present funk my life had become was going to the gym. I had a workout room in the basement of our house, but I also kept a membership at the luxury gym on the top floor of my office building in downtown Boston.

As I pumped iron, my energy went through the roof. I knew it was anger manifesting itself as strength. As I dropped the seventy-pound weight, I wished I could rid myself of the weight on my shoulders—the one I couldn’t put down.

• • •

That night, Rafe and I sat across from each other at the dinner table. Shannon always prepared supper on weeknights. She had the weekends off, and I usually picked up takeout on those days. But tonight she’d made a nice chicken and broccoli pasta dish.

I fiddled with the penne. “Your ear feeling better?”

Rafe shrugged as he looked down at his plate.

“What does that mean? Yes or no?”

He tugged on his ear and shook his head.

“Shit,” I muttered.

I’d put off taking him to the doctor for one day—or having Shannon take him—because everything seemed to upset him lately. I’d thought maybe his ear infection would magically go away. But a doctor visit would be unavoidable now.

“We’ll get you to the doctor tomorrow. You probably need antibiotics again.”

I hated that he’d taken more than his share of antibiotics this year. That couldn’t be good for his system.

When he continued to look down, I said, “Look up at me, please.”

He did as I said. The phone call from his school earlier today had made me realize I’d let this situation go on long enough.

“Rafe, at some point you’re gonna have to talk again. You can’t live like this. It’s not like being silent is going to bring her back, you know? You need to let stuff out, and you’re doing just the opposite. This is starting to become a big problem at school.” I exhaled. “They called me today.”

His ears turned red as he looked up from his plate.

“They want to set up a team to try to help you. But, Rafe, we won’t be able to help you if you don’t let us. I know you’re not completely comfortable with me, but your mom expected me to look out for you. And that’s what I’m trying to do. You and I, we’re both in the same boat. We both miss her. We both wish things were different. So we need to work together to try to be happy. She would want that, you know? She would hate the way things are right now.”

His ears turned redder, and I suspected it wasn’t the ear infection. It was anger and frustration. He wanted nothing to do with this one-sided conversation.

“Alright, I’ll stop bugging you—for now. But I hope you heard what I said.”

After Rafe washed his hands and headed back to his room, Shannon gave me a sympathetic look. She’d been on the other side of the kitchen listening in. She now had her purse over her arm and was readying to leave.

Slapping my cloth napkin on the table, I let out a long breath. “I wasn’t cut out for this.”

She walked toward me. “And yet somehow you were chosen for the task. Someone up there must disagree.”

“Someone up there has a sick sense of humor if they think I can handle parenting a teenager who hates my guts.”

She took a seat across from me and leaned her elbows on the table. “Look, it’s not you. You’re not the reason he’s silent. I know you think if he were in someone else’s care, this wouldn’t be happening.”

I rubbed my eyes. “I know it’s not directly about me, but I can’t help thinking that if a better man for the job were in my position, things would be different. If I had worked harder to connect with him before Maren died, maybe we wouldn’t be here.”

“You know dwelling on the past is a waste of energy, right? Dwelling on the past is regret. Dwelling on the future is anxiety. The only place of peace is in the middle, the present moment.”

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