He’s quiet for a minute, considering me. Then he says quietly, "I don’t know if you see that what happened to you wasn’t simply a case of statutory rape, son. That… woman adopted you, a damaged kid from the social services system, with the sole intent of molesting you. Do you see that? Do you see the perverted sickness in that? That she promised you hope and then, through her sick actions, instead, reinforced the message that you didn’t deserve to be loved and cared about? Do you see that her crime goes beyond statutory rape?"
I look out the window. He’s right, I have no doubt at this point that she brought me home intending on starting a sexual relationship with me when I was fifteen. I know because she told me. But what’s done is done. Seeking a criminal investigation against her won’t undo what happened.
"Still, no. I won’t do that to my father. That’s final. I can’t do that to my father."
"Jake, what exactly do you carry so much guilt about when it comes to your father?"
I laugh a humorless laugh. "Well, f**king his wife wasn’t very nice."
"That’s you being crass as a way to deflect. And that’s not what happened. An older woman who had taken you into her home manipulated you. You were…"
"Okay, Doc, I get it. I’m working that out, okay? We talked about that last session. I’m trying to let go of some of my own culpability. Not all of it, I won’t do that, despite what you say. But some of it, enough to be able to forgive myself, alright? But as far as my father, he was never anything but good to me and I not only screwed his wife behind his back for three years, but I treated him like shit. I was so f**king angry with both of them, and I thought maybe he knew and let her play her little game with me. Or maybe I just convinced myself of that so I could hate someone else, blame someone else. But in the end, our secret killed him. He died because of me, because of us."
"Kid, he changed his will to leave his company to you, the same company you just told me was his dream, his life’s work. He left that solely to you. Don’t you think that speaks volumes?"
I run my hand through my hair again. "Yeah, I guess. But it just reinforces my decision to focus my energy on making him proud with the way I handle that gift."
"So you just let Lauren get away with what she did? With harassing you, even now?"
"I’m moving to another city, Doc."
"People obsessed with someone don’t typically let that stop them."
I’m quiet for a minute, staring out the window, considering what he’s telling me.
"Can I tell you a little bit about the psychology of a woman who does what she did?"
I sigh. "If you have to. It won’t change anything, but I’ll listen."
He’s silent for a minute. "Most older women who engage in sex with young teen boys have an arrested development. Psychologically, they see themselves as a teenager, therefore they don’t feel guilt about the relationship, and generally justify it by saying they fell in love. They’re unwell, Jake. Extremely unwell."
This sounds all too familiar. He goes on, "Male victims can show the same trauma that a female victim shows – depression, anxiety, acting out, relationship problems… The power imbalance and the fact that a boy’s body usually cooperates are hugely confusing, hugely traumatic."
Okay, so I’m a f**king case study. Still doesn’t change anything. I take a deep breath. "This is all interesting, but I can handle her now, Doc. I’m not fifteen anymore."
He sighs, looking pained. He’s silent for several minutes, and I can practically see his wheels turning, but with what, I don’t know. Doesn’t matter. I’m not going to change my mind.
He stands up and puts his hand on my shoulder and squeezes gently before turning and walking toward the door.
"No parting words of wisdom, Confucius?" I joke.
He turns around, smiling, but still looking distracted. "Yeah, you’re doing good, kid."
He walks through the door and I yell after him, "That’s it? That’s like a fortune cookie outtake."
But I don’t hear him laugh as he moves away from my door, down the hall.
CHAPTER 20
The next couple of days drag by for me, despite the fact that I’m slammed at work. I call Evie every chance I get between meetings and her two jobs. I hate that she’s still bussing it around town but when I offer her my company driver, she declines. I’d like to insist, and I think if I pushed it enough, she’d relent, but I know that independence is important to her and I don’t want to take away from who she is just so I get my way. Not on this point. This is not the hill I’m willing to die on. So my girl is riding public transportation around town. Not happy. But resigned. For now.
Monday is a crazy day, as I get ready for my trip to the San Diego office to meet with investors and to attend a dinner benefit that the company is sponsoring.
Evie’s name comes up on my phone in the middle of a meeting and I excuse myself to take her call in the hallway.
"Hey, baby."
"Hi." I can hear the smile in her voice. "What are you up to?"
"In a meeting..." Preston sticks his head out and gestures to a schematic in his hand. He gives a thumbs up sign and mouths "Okay?" I nod back, knowing he’s asking if it’s okay to share it with the group. "Sorry, Evie, I can only talk for a minute. I miss you. You good?"