My phone rang off the hook. I was twenty-six years old, and I’d never felt this lost. Yet I couldn’t answer my phone. If I did, I’d have to own up to what I’d done. I could barely look at myself in the mirror. What I’d done to Charlie…it wasn’t right. I felt dirty on the inside, in my soul. I felt tarnished, and no amount of polish could rub it away. I felt like no one could ever wash me clean.

The phone rang again. I ignored it, pacing back and forth across my apartment.

Suddenly, the door of my apartment flew open and my dad stormed inside. He stopped when he saw me and ran a hand through his hair. “Jesus,” he said. “You’re alive.”

Was I? Was I really? I wasn’t sure. I felt dead inside.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I continued my pacing.

“Your mother has been calling you all day. You didn’t answer.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“With what?” He glared at me.

“Selling my soul,” I replied.

He narrowed his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“It means that I’m not sure who I am anymore,” I said on a thick laugh. “Where I stop and where she starts, I don’t know where that is anymore.”

“You mean Lynn.” He said the words quietly.

“And all the rest of them!” I shouted.

“What did you do?”

What didn’t I do? “Dad,” I said quietly, “you don’t want to know.”

“Tell me what you’re feeling,” he said. He sat down on the edge of the couch.

“Don’t try to shrink me, Dad,” I warned.

“I’m not shrinking,” he said. “I’m fathering.”

“I can’t talk to you about this.”

“You need to talk to someone.”

I turned to face him, flinging my arms wide. “Then find me someone to talk to!” I shouted. My voice choked at the end, clogged with emotion.

“Okay,” he said quietly. He crossed to the phone and dialed. “He’s fine,” I heard him say. “He needs to talk to someone. Call Greg. See if he has any appointments open. If he doesn’t, tell him to make one, now. I’ve never seen Mason so…unraveled.” He lifted his eyes to look at me. He covered the mouthpiece. “Your mother put me on hold,” he explained and rolled his eyes.

I sat down and then immediately jumped back up. It felt like my legs were sparking.

After about a minute, Dad spoke into the phone again, his voice quiet. “Okay. We’re on the way.” He paused, staring at me. “No, I’m pretty sure he doesn’t want us there. I’m going to take him and stay in the waiting room… Yes, I’m sure. Don’t you dare come there. Sometimes a boy needs his father and this is one of those times. He needs me. Let me handle this one— I’m sure. Damn it, I said I’m sure. Fuck. Hang up now,” he ordered. He waited for a second, and then he hung up too. He motioned for me to rise. “Come on,” he said.

“Where are we going?”

“To talk to someone.”

“Okay,” I said. “Okay,” I repeated. “Okay.”

“Okay,” Dad said, stopping my head from spinning. “You probably should have started seeing a psychiatrist the moment you started dating Lynn. I tried to tell your mother. She said you were fine. But you’re not fine.”

I shook my head. “No, I’m not fine.”

Dad took me across town, and on the way he didn’t say a word. We entered the office, and the psychiatrist was waiting by the door. He extended a hand as he appraised me up and down. “Mason?” he asked.

“Yes.” I shook his hand, finding his grip to be strong. Solid.

“Come on in,” he said. He stepped to the side. I saw him give my dad a look, and Dad gave him one back, but I couldn’t interpret it. The door closed and he motioned for me to take a seat. “Why don’t you tell me what brought you here?”

I jerked a thumb toward the door. “My dad brought me.”

He chuckled. “What events, Mason?” he asked. “What happened to make your parents worry about you?”

“I just needed to sort through some things in my head.”

“Are you done sorting?” He started to write as we talked.

“Not even close,” I murmured.

“Can you pinpoint a moment when you started to feel unsettled?”

“Yes.” I knew the exact moment.

“And that was when?”

“When I met Charlie.”

“Charlie’s a new friend of yours?”

“She’s a friend of Lynn’s. My girlfriend.”

“The Lynn?” he asked, his eyes growing wide. He quickly schooled his features, but I saw it. I saw it before he masked it.

“You know her?”

He smiled. “She works with your mother at the clinic? That Lynn?”

“Yes, that Lynn.”

“I’ve met her on several occasions. I’ve met some of her friends, too.”

“Have you met Charlie?” I asked.

He smiled again. “Can’t say I’ve had the pleasure.”

“I have.”

“Why don’t you tell me about that meeting?”

“I hurt her,” I whispered. “She asked me to, and I did it.”

“Tell me more,” he said, no judgment in his voice at all.

So I did. I told him everything.