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“Talking about her,” he said.
Sarah nodded. “Consider it tabled. What about your father?”
“Still rich. Absentee,” Emil said. “He got custody of me when CPS pulled me out of her care, but his version of parenting was throwing me in this really expensive private school and giving me unlimited cash and a car.”
“Every teenager’s dream.”
“Not mine,” Emil said, then stopped. Had he seriously meant to say that? He looked at Sarah, whose expression hadn’t changed. “I don’t know what I wanted except to get away from my mom, so I think that was the only thing that mattered at the time.”
“But I’m guessing no one gave you the tools to help you get through the trauma.”
“Does booze count?” he asked with a laugh, but it was obvious she didn’t think that was funny.
“I know that’s why you’re here. Your alcohol dependence.”
He nodded. “I don’t think I’m an alcoholic. But I think that I’m as close as someone could be without, you know, going over the edge? Is that even a thing?”
“Maybe not in so many words,” Sarah said, smiling just a little, “but substance dependence is very complicated, and it’s not some one-size-fits-all treatment.”
“I don’t want to go to AA,” he said.
Sarah’s smile widened. “I know. You said that twice in your phone message and three times during intake.”
Emil flushed. “I just…it’s. I don’t…I’m not good with sharing stuff. Not with strangers.” Except he had shared things with one stranger—including his body. But Renzo was different. And he sure as shit wasn’t bringing him up during this session.
“That’s okay. AA isn’t for everyone,” Sarah told him. “I know they show it on TV like it’s the only way to help yourself, and for some people, it’s the only way to stay sober. But you’ve done good on your own in the last few weeks.”
Emil nodded. “Some nights are harder than others.” He thought about the night he’d burned his mom’s things. He’d chosen sex over booze, and he wasn’t sure that was better, even if he wasn’t making a habit of it. “But I don’t want things to be like they were before.”
“How were they before?”
Emil let out a hollow laugh. “Empty. Cold. I was mean, and I hurt people I cared about just because it was easier than being honest or kind.”
Sarah nodded, and Emil almost wanted to cry at the fact that there was no judgment in her face. And granted, she was human. She’d probably go home and tell her friends about the whiny rich guy crying in her office about how he had too much money to be nice, but she was at least professional.
“May I ask you something?”
Emil nodded. “Go for it.”
“Before what?”
He frowned. “Before what, what?”
She laughed. “Who’s on first?” When his frown deepened, she waved him off. “Never mind. That’s way before both of our times, but I lived most of my life with my grandparents. Anyway, you said you don’t want to go back to the way things were before. So I wanted to know before what. There’s usually a catalyst to big changes that separate your life into time periods of befores and afters.”
Emil closed his eyes and allowed himself to feel all the guilt and shame. “My best friend’s fiancée was having an affair with our business partner. I knew. Everyone knew. But we didn’t say anything, and he was hurt. But that wasn’t the first time I’ve done something like that. I just want it to be the last time.”
“Ah.”
“I know that makes me a monster,” Emil said, his tone hard and defensive. “Trust me, you don’t need to say it.”
“I don’t think mistakes make monsters of men,” Sarah told him. “Even if you have a lifetime of them in your past. I think it matters what you do after when you’re ready to atone.”
“He’s forgiven me, and I hate that it was so easy for him,” Emil said. “He met someone new, and his life is amazing, and he wants me to be happy too, but I’m not sure I have the right.”
Sarah stroked a finger under her chin, almost like an absent gesture. “You feel like you deserve more punishment.” It wasn’t a question.
Emil’s cheeks burned. “Yeah. I, uh…I think so. I mean, I do, don’t I?”
