Page 24 of Drop Three

“You said the accident was from being young and stupid…why is that?”

Because it felt that way.“I wasn’t exactly young, I was twenty-six, but I didn’t seem to give a shit.”

The way Dr. Banks stares at me makes me feel like she’s seeing something written on my skin. It’s intimidating, but her questions make sense.

Maybe that’s her way of processing what I’m sharing.

Her hands fold in her lap as she responds, “Would you say twenty-six is quite old for a mistake like that?”

I suddenly feel like I’m suffocating.

The air in the room wafts like fire against my skin, and my clothes are strangling me of all circulation.

My instinct is to run and hide somewhere far and alone.

But I won’t. I’m here to be better for myself and fuck that if I let myself quit the progress I’ve made over a difficult question.

Anxiety treads over me, replacing comfort with hesitation as I answer Dr. Banks, “Maybe. But most adults at twenty-six don’t have to face what I did.”

I am waiting for the response; I know which one is coming.

“Would you mind telling me about that?”

There it is—the inevitable question and the main reason behind my avoidance of therapy all this time. I prepared myself for the question as much as possible, but nothing compares to hearing it and having to vocalize the pain.

If Dad could see me now, he would shit a brick.

St. James men are built tough and fear nothing.

Right.

“That was the year my mom left.”

I let out a long exhale, one that I didn’t realize I was holding in for so long—maybe even longer than today.

My mom left me, our family, this town, and I haven’t heard from or seen her since.

It’s been four years.

Four long and lonely years without her, if I’m being honest with myself. I never knew how much I craved a motherly touch. It sounds juvenile saying it out loud as an independent thirty-year-old man, but the weight of her loss is fucking heavy.

There’s also a livid side of me that says “fuck you and good riddance” to her in my head daily.

I want to hate her, but I can’t. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to.

It’s impossible to forget how good she was to me and my sister when shewashere. I think Penelope has a more difficult time than I do without her. It would have been different if I had never gotten answers, but I did, and I want nothing more from her.

Nothing she could say would make me forgive her, and I’ve made peace with that.

I’m okay with it.

Dr. Banks continues to study me as she rhythmically taps her pen against her nose. “That must have been extremely difficult, Bodhi. How did her leaving your family make you feel at the time?”

“Fucking heartbroken.”

“And what about now?”

Easy.“Like I dodged a bullet.”

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