Page 126 of For Wrath and Redemption
“You’re only winning because I can’t focus.”
She glances up at me as she sets up the board again, this time making herself white. “How bad is it?”
I drop my head into my hands and huff a pained laugh. “Not as bad as it could be.”
Meaning, I’m not vomiting or seizing or having thoughts of jumping out of the window just to make it all stop. In rehab, I was under constant supervision during detox. Thankfully, it’s never been that bad since. I don’t tell her that, though. I don’t want her to have that visual of me.
“My head pounds. My body aches. I haven’t fully calmed down from the nightmare. And to be completely honest, it’s taking a lot for me not to tear the room apart just to find your script.”
She folds her lips between her teeth and nods. “I learned to play chess when I was in rehab for my eating disorder. It was a good distraction.”
My eyes widen, then I whistle. “The only thing I learned in rehab is how to be a better liar.”
Claire’s brows furrow, and she forces a laugh. My stomach twists. I am an idiot. I squeeze my eyes shut and give my head a shake. I never should have said that, but my brain is so fucking fuzzy. I start to spiral, but then she speaks again, and all my attention focuses back on her.
“I started purging when I was fifteen. I had a therapist in college who said it was a maladaptive coping strategy for my anxiety disorder.” She laughs. “I thought it was just because I hated myself, but I was wrong.” She moves her king pawn two spaces, then looks at me. “Your move.”
I want to comfort her, but I don’t know what to say. So instead, I move my piece and give her one of my truths.
“My older brother Theo died when I was ten. He had a brain tumor. Cancerous. Inoperable. The hospital triggered those memories.”
“I’m sorry. I knew you had an older brother who’d passed. I didn’t know how. How old was he?”
“Seventeen.”
“Wow, you really were the baby.” Her eyes bounce between mine, and I see the moment she makes the connection. “Your middle name is Theodore.”
Yep. My parents weren’t even subtle.
“He was the favorite,” I say with a shrug. “They’d never wanted a second child.”
Her lips purse, and then she drops her eyes to the board to make her next move.
“My father used to hit my mom and my brother, but never me. He’d hit them, then tell me I was the only one who never let him down.”
“What a prick.”
She laughs. “Yeah. And after he and my mom split, he’d cancel plans or break promises, then blame my brother for it. I was young and didn’t see it for what it was. Really hurt my relationship with Macon.”
“Macon’s your brother?”
She nods, and I shake my head. “Are all dads assholes?”
“I hope not.”
“I’m glad I don’t have kids. I don’t want to think of all the ways I could fuck them up.”
“Right.” Her answering huff of laughter is forced, and she wipes at her eyes. When she smiles, it’s almost mournful. “Your turn.”
I consider the board as I speak.
“After Theo died, I basically did, too. I worked my ass off for a few years. Graduated high school early with honors. Got accepted to Yale. Thought if I was perfect, I’d earn my way back into my family. Realized halfway into my first semester at Yale that I was wrong.”
“Your brother died when you were ten and your parents just...abandoned you?”
I smile at the protectiveness in her voice. “They didn’tabandonme. They just...stopped talking to me or looking at me or acting like I existed, unless it was to tell me something I did wrong.”
“That’s disgusting.”
