A Mended Man (The Men of Halfway House Book 4) (41 page)

"What kind of video?"

"Home video. My thirteenth birthday. Ty and me. Our parents. Small backyard barbecue thing." He shrugged. Not really sure why he couldn't lock this up in his internal vault and move on.

The doctor paused and the sound of a pen scribbling on paper echoed in the room. "Was it difficult to see your parents on screen?"

"No. That was nice."

"What part wasn't so nice?"

Aidan sighed again and crossed his arms, resting his head against the window frame. The sky's blue hue had darkened since his arrival and the deep oranges now faded into a rich red as the sun set behind the building. The colors changed, but the people racing on the street and gridlock traffic heading out of downtown remained the same.

"Aidan?"

He glanced over his shoulder again, trying to remember her question. "It was weird seeing myself in that video."

"Why?"

He turned around to face the doctor, hoping to avoid the distraction of the window. He lowered his brow, wondering what had happened to the boy in the video he used to know so well. Somehow, he had locked away the smiling, happy, playful version of himself and didn't have a clue how to reach him. And it pained him. A deep ache in his chest he hadn't experienced since the mourning of his parents. As if that inexplicable void hadn't been enough, out of the corner of his eye, he'd snuck a glance at Jessie who sat mesmerized watching the video with a hint of a smile touching his lips.

That stung even more. To know that another version of himself, one he no longer knew, could easily bring a smile to Jessie's face.

"It's as if I was looking at a different person," he said, remembering the younger version of himself running around the yard with his baby brother clinging to his back.

The doctor set her pen and notebook aside and clasped her hands together. "I'm going to ask you the dreaded doctor question. How did that make you feel?"

He refused to make eye contact. He couldn't sort through all the emotions racing through his mind to pick the correct answer.
I suck at this shit
. "I don't know," he finally said.

"Yes, you do. I'm not expecting you to say anything in particular. Just tell me what you felt. There is no right or wrong answer."

"I miss him," he whispered.

"What do you miss most about him?" Dr. Engel asked.

Aidan blew out a heavy breath, fighting a mix of pain and resentment. He pushed off the wall and sat on the couch across from the doctor. He rested his elbows on his legs and raked both hands in his hair, burying his head in his hands. "His…my smile in the video was effortless. I can't remember the last time I laughed that much." He sat up, forcing his mind to focus on stringing together his thoughts, his entire body heaving with each labored breath. He pushed his palms together and rubbed his hands, trying to ignore the ache in his chest.

"It was…strange hearing myself laugh. It's weird because I know what my brother's laugh sounds like. And I remember how much I missed it when he was recovering after the accident. And I remember the first time I heard it again. It was…like fucking magic. It sucked the air out of my lungs. But I can't…remember what my laugh sounds like anymore," he finished quietly.

Dr. Engel leaned forward. "You have this huge burden you carry on your shoulders and you don't realize how it weighs you down and affects every aspect of your life. You need to stop trying to carry this weight on your own."

Aidan looked up, his heartbeat picking up a notch. "I'm not going to broadcast my shit to the world or wear my emotions on my sleeve. That's not me. And no amount of therapy or talking or whatever the fuck you want to call it is going to change that."

She stared at him, matching his intensity. He knew better than to look away first.

"You are not a failure."

Aidan scoffed and shook his head, disgusted with himself. "You're supposed to tell me that. I pay you to listen to my bullshit."

The good doctor took a deep breath. "You're not listening to me on this because my opinion is not the one that matters to you." Dr. Engel sat back in her chair. "Okay, let's try a different approach. What's stopping you from telling Jessie what happened?"

He finally looked away.

"Aidan?"

He returned his focus to her, spearing her with a scowl he hoped would finally quiet her. "What?" he snapped, with a bit more bite than he had planned.
Well, maybe I did mean to snap. Maybe she'll finally back the hell off.

She leaned forward again, clasping her hands. "I'm not dropping the subject so I suggest you answer the question."

Great, now she's fucking psychic too.
His jaw muscles tensed as he bit back the simmering anger, staring at the doctor who refused to back down. Her persistence, both a blessing and a curse, often annoyed him. Even more so at that moment.

"Tell him."

"No."

"Why?"

"That's
my
choice to make," he said through clenched teeth.

The doctor straightened and raised an eyebrow. "You
are
learning something from our sessions. But stop trying to find the convenience in the tools you're learning."

He crossed his ankle over his knee and gripped his leg, figuring silence was a more…respectable alternative than lashing out with a few choice words.

She grabbed the pen from the side table and rolled it between her fingers. "Okay, let's look at this from a different angle."

She could sure as hell have a one-sided conversation for all he cared.

"What do you think Jessie will do when you tell him?"

He continued to silently stare.
Nothing. That's what Jessie would do because I'm. Not. Fucking. Telling. Him.

She leaned forward. "Aidan, answer the question."

The pain in his jaw muscles began to radiate down his neck.
Why the hell doesn't she give up already?

"Do you think he would leave?"

He turned away and tightened his grip on his leg.

"Do you think Jessie would leave?" she asked more firmly.

He scowled as he looked over to the window. Fuck the damn couch. He stood and paced the room, needing to ease some of the tension thrumming through his body. He should walk out of the damn office.

"Do you think Jessie would leave you?" she repeated.

He walked over to his spot by the window, leaning against the frame, closing his eyes with a sigh.
If she's pushing this damn much, it must be important.
He had asked her to push when he stalled. But—
hell
—she took that shit to heart like a woman on a mission to save the world.

"Aidan," she said, in a softer tone. "This is important and I believe this is a huge milestone we can't ignore. I think most of your tension stems from this. I know you have strong feelings for Jessie and I think it's a fear of him leaving you—"

"I don't think he'd leave me," he said, blurting out the words. He opened his eyes and shoved his hands in his pockets as he stared out the window. No, he didn't think Jessie would turn his back on him and walk away. "He's too supportive," he added, barely above a whisper.

After everything they'd been through, he knew—without a second of hesitation—Jessie wouldn't abandon him like everyone else had. It was the only thing he held with certainty. He sighed. The sky had darkened to a deep sapphire with splashes of gray erasing the orange from a few moments ago. Sometimes, he wished he could just as easily erase things.

"So what are you worried about?"

Aidan tried to sort the thoughts in his mind and translate them into words that actually made sense. He lowered his head, willing the words to come. "When he was in the hospital, after the attack, I was so pissed off I'd lose him. I realize now I was scared out of my mind. There's something about him. I don't know what it is, but he keeps me balanced. Telling him this," he said, shaking his head.

He stared out the window, hoping to focus his thoughts. "He won't leave me; I'm not worried about that. But…I'm worried he'll see me differently and that will change things. He'll pity me or feel sad because of what happened. He'll see a weakness in me I don't want
anyone
to see." He glanced over his shoulder at the doctor. "Especially him," he whispered, before returning his focus to the window.

The sapphire shade of blue reminded him of how Jessie's eyes sometimes looked in the darkness of the living room, lit only by the flicker of the television screen. "He says I'm his rock. His guardian angel. Both of those things are hard and strong. That's what I always want to be for him. I know he loves me…and he loves
that
strength about me. And…I'm worried he won't see me the same once he knows." He shook his head again and blew out a frustrated breath, finally turning away from the window to face the doctor fully. "I don't think I'm making any sense."

"You think it's your strength he's drawn to and you're concerned that showing any weakness will diminish your connection with him."

"See that, Doc?" He withdrew his hands from his pockets and crossed his arms. He pursed his lips and nodded. "That's why you make the big bucks."

She cocked her head and gave him a lopsided grin. "I've known Jessie for a long time. He's stronger than many people give him credit for."

The edges of Aidan's lips curved into a smile. "And resilient."

The doctor nodded. "You know what he's been through. Did you pity him because of what happened to him with his father or Michael or when he was on his own?"

His eyes narrowed. "Hell no." For some inexplicable reason, her question really pissed him off. He straightened to his full height and squared his shoulders. "I have more respect for how strong he is. And I understand him more. I know why he needs order and control over things in his life."

A smile slowly spread across the good doctor's face.

What the fuck is so funny? Is she going to crack some stupid joke about defending Jessie's honor because I spoke up?

She crossed her arms and waited, still smiling smugly at him.

Wait a minute
. The clever doctor often pulled a Mr. Miyagi on his ass, teaching him a lesson without him realizing it.
What the hell did she say? Did I pity Jessie because I knew his history? Fuck no!

Realization came to him like a swift kick in the balls.

"Shit."
I walked right into that one.
He deflated; the fight and anger evaporating from his body almost as quickly as it had arrived.

"Now do you understand why you should tell him?"

Shit, shit, shit.
"I don't think I can," he said, then turned to face the window again, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"You'd like to have an intimate relationship with him, but there's a wall you've built between the two of you. Until you break down that wall, you won't know what type of relationship you can have with him. You've kept this bottled up inside for a long time and it's managed to build resentment and an entire recipe of guilt and frustration that churns inside you. You just need to take that leap of faith. You're both problem solvers. You know that saying…when life hands you lemons. What do you do?"

He looked over his shoulder. "Throw them at people."

Dr. Engel raised an eyebrow. "You two will figure out how to make this work." She stood from her chair and walked over to him, mirroring his stance. "You make me work too hard," she teasingly said, leaning in and bumping his arm.

He chuckled, welcoming the break of the tension in the air.

"It's about honesty and trust." She raised a stopping hand when Aidan opened his mouth to interrupt her. "You haven't lied to him, but you haven't told him the complete truth. I know there's more you're not telling me because I recognize the signs. You need to tell him. If anyone will understand what you went through, it's him. Locking it up inside, silencing what you've experienced, won't help you. You're trying to define the rules on your own. Trust in the relationship you two have worked on. Be as honest and open with him as he's been with you, then work together to define the terms."

Aidan exhaled heavily, staring out the window. "You remind me of my friend, Hunter. You two should teach philosophy classes. You're both armed with logic and fancy, poetic phrases."

She tilted her head and whispered, "Works on you like a charm."

Sometimes, her snark reminded him of his mom. "Thanks….for putting up with my shit."

"That's why I'm here." She smiled and continued to stare out the window alongside Aidan. "So, would you say telling Jessie is a baby step or a toddler-sized one?"

Aidan took a deep breath. "I think we're pushing an Olympic-sized leap here."

She reached out and patted his arm in a comforting gesture. "Then go for the gold. I know how much you like to win."

Fucking smartass
.

Jessie sat on the couch in their bedroom with his leg tucked under him, sneaking a glance above his e-reader. Aidan normally mulled things over in his mind, but something obviously grated on each of his nerves.

Aidan vigorously rubbed the towel through his freshly washed hair as he paced the room, barefoot with his low-slung jeans unbuttoned and half zipped. Jessie couldn't rip his gaze from the black waistband of the underwear or the strands of closely cropped hair peeking along the edge. Each pacing stride flexed Aidan's tight ab muscles, causing his ink to twist and move with each step as if the large inked scroll whipped in the wind, waving its message of strength and resilience.