24. Henry

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

henry

Starting my day off with a blowjob in the shower is something I could get used to if I’m not careful, but that’s exactly how I started my day.

And afterward, we both got Hazel ready for her day. Felix fed her while I made us a quick breakfast. It’s all so damn perfect.

Terrifying, but perfect all the same.

I don’t want to live my life afraid that Felix will walk away, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t in the back of my head. It’s on my mind when Andrew arrives a little early for the meeting and sits down with me behind the desk.

Felix has Hazel while he folds laundry. She happily sits on the blanket he spread out for her with some toys, and I don’t feel the need to go check on them like I thought I would. I trust him.

“How have you been?” Andrew’s voice is perfect for therapy, but it works because it makes me want to open up to him. Ben and everyone around here seem to trust Andrew completely.

That’s good enough for me, I realize.

“It feels almost too good to be true,” I admit, and he nods knowingly.

“Yeah, I get that. Felix looks really happy lately.”

I laugh at that, the thought a little ludicrous. “Felix is always happy,” I say and realize I’m wearing a big smile at the very thought of the man who’s determined to not only be my friend but now also my lover.

“He’s happier now. I’ve known him for a while, trust me.” I turn and look at him, unable to wipe the smile from my face.

“How did you end up being a therapist? Running a support group? You seem so normal.” I ask him the question I’ve been wondering about since I met him. Not that therapists aren’t normal, but to hear the things he hears day in and day out, it has to affect him. I can’t imagine doing that, and my life started out as shit.

“My life was anything but typical.” This surprises me, but I don’t say anything, hoping he’ll say more. “I wanted to help people however I could, and I knew that from a young age.”

“Your childhood was bad.” It’s not really a question. I see the shadows in his eyes before he confirms it. I don’t know how I missed it before, although it’s not crystal clear.

His lips form a solid line. “My father was abusive. Really bad. My mom . . .”—he takes a deep breath—“she tried, but she was an addict, tried to escape his abuse by going out of her mind.”

I feel the bile creep up my throat. His childhood is eerily similar to what I’ve known.

“She never really wanted me. My dad told me that all the damn time. That I was lucky I was even born because she didn’t want me.” A cold sweat forms over my skin, and my hand trembles as he continues, his words laced with pain, “I thought he was just trying to hurt me. It’s what he did.” His eyes meet mine, and I see a distance in them. “But I knew by the way she looked at me, he wasn’t lying. She didn’t want me. She told me one night about her childhood. Her parents were awful, addicted to drugs and never there for her. She didn’t want to bring me into that life.”

His voice sounds strained, and I hear his pain, but the story is too much like mine. My eyes dart toward the laundry room where Felix is and then back to Andrew. “Did he tell you that?”

“Tell me what?” Andrew looks genuinely confused.

“About Maggie. Did Felix tell you about Maggie?”

I know Felix wants me to talk to Andrew. To consider therapy, but he wouldn’t go this far, would he? Would he tell Andrew about my past so he can relate to me? I don’t want to believe he’d ever manipulate me that way. “Henry.” I’m snapped back to the conversation with Andrew. “Who’s Maggie?”

He doesn’t seem to know, but it’s so damn hard for me to trust anyone. I don’t want Felix to have told my secrets. It makes me sick to think about it. “Hazel’s mother.”

His brow furrows, his head cocked to the side. “No. I don’t know anything about Hazel’s mother. What’s going on?”

“Are you lying to me?” I ask, my voice shaky.

“No,” he answers instantly. “I’d never lie to you. I don’t talk about my family often, Henry. I’m not sure why I did today, but that’s my story.”

I study him carefully, my stomach still in knots. “Maggie is an addict. Her parents were abusive.”

He nods slowly, listening. Not judging. Not trying to convince me of anything, but he doesn’t look surprised. I want to believe this is new information to him.

“I don’t talk about Maggie with anyone.”

He seems to understand what I’m saying as he nods again. “But you have with Felix.”

I nod. “I have. I’ve told him things I don’t tell anyone. And your mother’s story sounds awfully familiar.”

He pulls in a deep breath, then lets it free. “Unfortunately, it’s similar to a lot of people’s stories. There’s goodness out in the world. I know that now that I’m older. But listening to people relive their trauma tells me just how much bad there is too.”

“How do you do it?” I ask solemnly.

“The good.” He wears a smile now. “The good makes all the bad okay. It gives me hope.”

“Spark of Hope,” I say quietly, thinking about the poster that drew me into this place at first.

“Yes. I could have gone down a very dark path. Hated the world. But I couldn’t do that. Instead, I chose to see the good and spread hope.” He pats my shoulder, standing up. “You ever want to talk more about anything at all, I’m here. Any time. At the meetings or alone, I’m here.”

“Who’s there for you?” I have to ask. Spreading hope is good, but he can’t tell me it doesn’t wear on him.

He smiles almost sadly but then shrugs. “I have a family here, and you do too, whether you want it or not.”

With that, he leaves effortlessly.

And I know he’s right.

I’ve found a family here.