Page 116 of Unexpected Prejudice

We sat on the floor for a while longer before I finally calmed down and was able to move. After moving to the couch, Chief brought me a bottle of water which I finished in one long gulp.

My therapist, Erika, explained to me that my panic disorder, which caused my random panic attacks and anxiety, was probably related to my past trauma. Even though I tried not to focus on those parts of my life, I couldn’t ignore being abused and hurt throughout my childhood. I was well aware of my anxiety and abandonment issues, but I often tried to shove them away, and bury them deep within me. Days like this, reminded me that it wasn’t always possible. My trauma wasn’t the only reason for my attacks. Panic disorder could also be genetic. Since I never knew my parents, there was no way for me to know, so it was just an assumption.

“I’m sorry for that,” I mumbled tiredly.

“Don’t apologize. You know I’m here for you.”

I always felt guilty for having a panic attack because the people I grew up with used to treat them as an inconvenience. Of course, Levi never did. He had all the patience in the world when it came to me. Since Chief became our family, he also took care of me, of all of us, and made sure we all took care of each other in our own way. By leaving, Levi didn’t only leave me, but he also left Chief, Andrei, and Diesel. It hurt that he didn’t feel safe around us, and it was my job to make sure he did.

To make sure he knew he was always welcome.

To make sure he knew he was always needed.

To make sure he knew he was always wanted.

And I had failed.

Levi

“So, how is it? Do you like the pasta?” Mom asked from across the table, a big smile on her face as she waited for me to answer.

Swallowing first, I nodded. “It’s good. Tasty.”

She snapped her fingers while looking rather pleased with herself. “I became quite the cook over the years. After all, I didn’t have a job, so I took on cooking. Emily and Marcus loved my food. We used to have a big meal every Sunday after church.”

Ignoring the mention of my supposed stepsiblings and my jealousy of her acting as their mother, I focused on the other thing she said. “Church? You never believed in God before.”

“I do now.” She reached for the bottle of wine placed between us.

“So, what, you’re Catholic now?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but I choose to share Robert’s beliefs.”

“Interesting.”

After filling her glass, she looked at me. “You drink, right?”

I nodded, moved my glass closer, and watched as she filled it. It was weird how much we didn’t know about each other. She was my mom, yet I had no idea she’d learned how to cook or that she went to church every Sunday. I was her son, but she still didn’t know I preferred white wine over red or that I disliked pasta.

But here we were, sitting around her small dining table, celebrating Christmas Eve over red wine and a meal of Carbonara.

Today was the sixth night I had spent away from Jessie. Thinking back about the way I left him made me sick to my stomach. The last thing I ever wanted to do was to hurt him, but at that moment, I snapped. Weeks of repressing my feelings had brought me to my breaking point, and when I couldn’t take it any longer, I ran away.

Being so far from him made me miserable. I was depressed and felt like half of me was gone. But at least the distance allowed me some space to calm down. I was still mad, hurt, and confused about everything that had happened, and I couldn’t trust myself not to hurt him.

But you did hurt him. He looked crushed, and you still walked away.

Getting up, Mom took our plates to the sink and returned with a teapot and a pack of cigs. “Want one?”

Taking the packet from her hand, I pulled out a cigarette and put it between my lips. “You’re my mom. Aren’t you supposed to say this shit will kill me?”

Shrugging, she blew out the smoke. “Nah, there are worse things in life. Speaking of, how are you dealing with your breakup.”

“We’re still together,” I said before taking a deep drag and holding it in my lungs. A part of me wanted to die, anyway. “I already told you that.” I blew out the smoke.

She waved her hand to get the smoke out of the way, and I focused on the two fingers she used to hold her cigarette. “Oh, please, you’re too young to tie yourself to one person. Enjoy your youth, explore other people, maybe even a girl?”

With me being eighteen and Jessie nineteen, I knew we had our whole lives ahead of us. Statistics said that less than two percent of couples who dated in high school would marry, but statistics didn’t apply to us. After a month of knowing him, I knew Jessie was the person I’d spend my whole life with. Even if he was straight, and we weren’t a couple, I would still want to spend my life next to him as nothing more than a friend. My connection with Jessie went way beyond high school romance, physical attraction, or friendship. He was the force that drove me in life. That was why being away from him made me so miserable.