Dr. Ian is starting to piss me off. “No, but...the fact remains, he lied.”
“You’re right. He did. And there’s a lot to unpack there. But let me ask you this: what’s the worst that could have happened?”
“What?” Is he crazy?
“Best case scenario, he told you upfront who he was related to, and the choice was yours to do as you pleased--ignore him, ask him to be your tutor anyway, kick him in the shins. The choice would have been yours, but he took that choice away. He lied. What’s the worst thing that could have come out of his lies?”
“Uh, me finding out? Me feeling completely betrayed. Me questioning every fucking second of our time together?”
“Right. And that’s what happened.”
“Yes. The very worst thing that could have happened, did happen. What is your point, Ian?” I know he’s been a good friend to me, but I’m starting to lose my patience.
“My point is, you survived. It sucked, no question. Broke my heart to see you that way, and don’t think for a minute I didn’t want to punch him in his face--I did. But, look, the worst thing happened, and you’re still here, on your way to being ok. That counts for a hell of a lot.”
I’m not ready to digest his Psych-speak just yet. “What are you getting at, Ian? I don’t--why are you, like, defending him?”
“Not defending him, I swear. Just, tell me, did you watch the rest of that live-stream?”
“Uh, the one where the love of my life betrayed me on live TV? No, Ian, I did not.”
“Do me a favor, just watch the last few minutes. Please.”
He hands me his phone, but I don’t take it.
“Phoebe, I promise, you need to see this. Trust that I’m not going to show you anything that’s going to hurt you any more than you’ve already been hurt.”
I take the phone, a true testament to how much I really do trust Ian. I don’t think it’s going to change anything, but I watch.
I watch as my boyfriend--as Ty--turns toward the lawyer, saying, “I’ve known Brett for a little more than seven years. And I can say without pause that Brett Givens has no moral compass. His entitlement is boundless and his capacity for destruction is endless. He feels no guilt or accountability in regard to Dylan James’s death. He’s broken. And, really, it’s not hard to see why.”
It takes me a minute to digest all that, so I watch it again. The pieces fall into place--she’s the woman who gave birth to him, not his mother. That’s the man who rejected him. And their son is Ty’s half brother. I get it, but…
“But, Ian. He lied. He still lied. Every time we had a conversation, every time he kissed me. Every time, I mentioned my brother.” My voice breaks, but I keep going, “every time we made love,he lied to me.”
“He did.” Ian nods solemnly. “The question is, can you forgive him? Do you miss him enough--do you love him enough--to forgive him?”
It’s more than I can handle, and tears escape before I can stop them.
“Ok, enough therapy time for today. My shift doesn’t start for a couple hours, so how about I walk you over to the studio and get some reading done while you work, ok?”
“Oh, I--”
“You’re behind as hell, kiddo. Come on, let’s start getting you caught up. All this drama will keep.”
Chapter 21
Ty
Whit made dinner, but I don’t feel much like eating, no matter how delicious his enchiladas are. I don’t feel much like doing anything. I can feel myself going through the motions--waking up, showering, drinking some coffee, going to class, eating because I have to, and reading until I fall asleep. But it’s like someone drew a curtain or dimmed the lights. My world looks similar to the way it did before I met Phoebe. But now, I know the difference. Now I know what it feels like to really live.
“Alright, I’m gonna ask, since no one else has the balls,” Whit begins. “How’d it go with the lawyer?”
I shrug. “Pretty well, actually.” I push the food around my plate and continue, “Tracy was adamant about keeping guard of my trust, but then my lawyer bluffed and said I was considering doing a TV interview about everything that happened. She folded right then. So, the law firm will oversee the trust until I graduate in a year and a half, but I’ve instructed them that the tuition money still goes to Phoebe.”
Knox looks a little surprised. “Dude, I get it. You want to keep helping her, even after all the shit that went down. But you’ve gotta know she’s gonna transfer out of here.”
“I thought of that,” I tell him. “The tuition is there for a four-year degree, regardless of the institution or major. I don’t want her to be tied down or feel bound to anything. How could I blame her for wanting to get away from this place and all the memories it holds? Fuck, some days, I feel like running away. I hope she stays here--of course I do--but the decision is hers.”
