Page 82 of Hurricane Love

“Then, no, you’re good. Can you provide dates for all of these incidents and the names of the parties involved?” Sergeant Collier asked.

“I sure can.”

It didn’t absolve him of his own past misdeeds. But sitting there, telling the truth, Diego felt like he was finally doing something to make things right.

In therapy that week,Diego shared with Dr. Bob his intentions to be in a committed relationship with Wylie, along with some of his fears–that he might go back to using, that he might detach and hurt Wylie even more, that he might never make anything out of himself, which was a kind of catch-all for his many insecurities.

“While I understand these concerns, a lot of them seem purely hypothetical at this point, don’t they?” Dr. Bob asked. “More like a derivative of fear, rather than anything based on your current actions or habits.”

“I guess so,” Diego said, still not completely comfortable with being called out for acting like an irrational scaredy cat.

“So, you’re merely speculating at this point, which, if that’s the case, then why not try to speculate in a more productive direction?” he suggested.

He made it sound so simple. As if overhauling his pessimistic personality could be done in a day, like switching out an engine. “I’m not the most positive person,” Diego said, a vast understatement.

“Well, instead of focusing on all the things youdon’twant to happen, why not focus on some of the things that youdowant to happen?” Dr. Bob reasoned.

Diego wasn’t wired that way, and it seemed every time he tried, he got stuck, or the future was too hazy for him to truly grasp. “I need help with that.”

“Try to imagine yourself a year from now. Where are you, what are you doing, who are you with?”

Diego took a deep breath and let his vision blur as he tried to imagine it. He didn’t like his apartment, so he was no longer living there, obviously. Maybe he was living in Gainesville, near Wylie. Or, maybe they were living together? A year from now, it might be possible. And if he was in Gainesville, then what was he doing for work? Service, most likely. Working at a restaurant orfor a catering company, somewhere that didn’t mind employing an ex-con. He could lay floor or do landscaping too, if needed. But he had to be contributing in some way, and the conditions of his release required him to have a job anyway.

But a job wasn’t all that he had going on. He was taking classes too, working toward his associate degree. And he was still exercising because that was critical to his mental health. And, most importantly, he was with Wylie. Did they have friends? That’s where the vision got a little dicey because Diego wasn’t sure he’d fit in with super smart, high-brow types. Diego hoped they weren’t all pretentious snobs, but then, when he thought about the people Wylie gravitated to–Hannah, Rita, Pamela, and their friends at the pit–it was people like them. Hard-working, a little rough around the edges, sometimes honest to the point of being rude.

“Are you going to tell me?” Dr. Bob gently nudged.

“What?”

“Are you going to share your vision?” the man asked, looking amused because it seemed Diego had gone silent for a while.

Diego laid out this potential future for Dr. Bob in rough strokes while his mind continued to fill in the detail, and in doing so, he began to believe it himself. Why couldn’t all of those things come true? If he worked toward them. If Wylie wanted it too.

“Now, what are the things you need to accomplish in order to make that vision come true?” Dr. Bob asked.

In addition to the logistical measures–transferring his probation, telling his family, moving his shit, and finding a job, there was one step that needed to happen first. He needed to talk to his key decision-maker.

“I need to convince Wylie that I mean what I say and that I want this thing too,” Diego said, feeling almost giddy at the challenge set before him. “That I’m willing to fight for it.”

Dr. Bob smiled, eyes crinkling. “Sounds like a great place to start. And there’s something else I’d like you to think about, Diego.”

“Okay, what’s that?”

“You’re allowed to want things. I know that you’re still in the process of rebuilding your life, but I want to keep that in the back of your mind.”

“I’m allowed to want things,” Diego repeated, trying to internalize Dr. Bob’s wisdom.

“That’s exactly right.”

CHAPTER 19

WYLIE

Diego was acting weird,and by “weird,” Wylie meant that Diego was calling him all the time. Not just texting, butcalling, as if they were already in a relationship, as if they were boyfriends. Or maybe Diego was just conducting regular mental health checks. Wylie honestly didn’t know if he should be flattered or offended, but as his mother always told him, you don’t look a gift horse in the mouth.

It started a couple days after Diego had swooped in on his rescue mission, which was how Wylie was referring to it in his mind. He’d been at absolute rock bottom, pitiful and weak, but Diego hadn’t been scared off by it. Didn’t seem that way, what with him calling all the time.

Even more alarming, Wylie was starting toexpectDiego’s calls, every day at 9 p.m. on the nights when Diego didn’t have to close at the pit. They talked about basic stuff, what assignments Wylie was working on, which of his professors he was beefing with, the few friends he’d made by being a library rat–none of them law students. Diego updated him on what was going on with his family and the pit and his weightlifting gains.