Chapter 15: Bring Me Back: Chapter 15

I stare at Phoenix’s mouth while she finishes her phone call.

I’ve been completely useless since our kiss last night—Phil made sure to tell me so during our shift today. But those soft, warm lips of hers have been calling to me like a siren. I was on her doorstep the second I got home, hoping she’d be as eager to see me as I’ve been to see her.

She answered the door with the phone sandwiched between her ear and her shoulder and waved me inside. Now, I’m watching her like a lion while she paces, waiting for the right time to pounce on my prey.

“I’ll come by this week so we can hang for a bit.” Phoenix’s eyes dart to mine before she glances down at her feet. “Yes, I will. I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it up to you. Okay, bye.” She shakes her head as she sets down her phone. “Sorry. That was my friend, Drew.”

I wrap my hands around her waist. “Everything okay?”

“We haven’t spoken much lately, and he’s a little upset with me.”

“You were busy with the adoption event. I’m sure he’ll understand.” I kiss her nose. “How was your day?”

“Better now.”

I lower my lips to hers. “I’ve been thinking about you all day.”

She melts against me, and I cradle the back of her head, tilting her mouth up to mine. We haven’t talked about what we’re doing, or what’s happening between us, but for now, kissing her is all I can focus on.

But Phoenix pulls back too soon. “Let’s go sit on the couch and talk.”

“Sure.” I take her hand in mine as we walk into the living room and lower ourselves onto the cushions. “What’s wrong?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you told me about your mom yesterday. About how she died.”

“Oh.” My stomach knots itself. “And what are you thinking?”

“There’s something you should know.” She swallows and rubs her palms against her thighs. “About me.”

I shift in my seat. “What is it?”

“Remember when I told you that I had a falling-out with my mother?”

I nod.

“Well, the reason is because…” She squeezes her eyes shut, and I give her time because I can see this is a difficult subject for her. Then she pulls up the sleeve on her left arm, revealing the thin scar etched into her skin. “Two years ago, I tried to take my own life.”

A high-pitched whistle pierces my ears.

My body stills.

I forget how to breathe.

I blink down at the mark on her forearm in disbelief.

kill Tears well behind her lids as she continues. “I have depression. I’ve had it since I was a kid. I managed it as best as I knew how, but my mother never believed in mental health issues so she didn’t guide me to get proper help. I just thought something was wrong with me, and that it was my fault that I couldn’t figure out how to make myself feel happier. Then as I got older, my dad got sick, and that took a toll on me. When he died, everything got ten times worse. My mom shut me out, and we grew even further apart. And one day, I’d just had enough of trying to find the will to live when it seemed like I had nothing to live for. So, I tried to kill myself. I would’ve succeeded if my mother didn’t walk in on me in the bathroom.”

Her bottom lip trembles and a part of me wants to wrap her in my arms and hold her while she cries. But the other part of me—the wounded son who lost his mother because she didn’t want to live anymore—overpowers all else. I feel blindsided. Deceived in some way. Anger flares deep in my gut and spreads throughout my body like a comforting blanket to soothe my pain.

“You… you slit your wrist?”

A tear slides down her cheek as she nods. “Yes.”

“Why would you do that?”

“I just wanted the pain to stop. I didn’t know what else to do.”

A bitter laugh rips from my chest, and it doesn’t sound like my own. “You couldn’t figure out that you needed to go to therapy instead of ?”

Her head jerks back. “In that moment, no. I couldn’t. But I went to a mental health facility to get the help I needed. What I did wasn’t the answer to my problem. I know that now. It was a mistake, and—”

“It was a mistake that almost cost you your life. How could you do something so selfish?”

“It’s not selfish, James. It’s .”

“What about your family? Did you think about how they would feel after you died? No wonder your family doesn’t want anything to do with you.”

Her mouth falls open, and I know I’ve hurt her but I can’t seem to stop my words from tumbling out. Everything I want to say is getting jumbled by the emotion I’ve buried deep with my mother’s death.

“I can’t believe this.” I push off the couch to stand, and Wilbur jumps off with me, wagging his tail like we’re going on a walk.

Phoenix muffles a sob and follows me into the hallway. “Wait. James, please don’t leave. Let’s talk about this.”

“Talk?” I spin around. “How can you expect me to stay after what you just told me?”

“I… I don’t know. I understand this brings up a lot for you, and that’s why I wanted to talk to you about it.”

“No, you understand. You don’t have a fucking clue. Do you know why? Because you aren’t the one who was left by choice. You’re the one who made a selfish decision that affected everyone else in your life except you. You hurt everyone who loved you, and you told them that they didn’t matter enough.”

“I didn’t mean to! That’s not how depression works. It’s a choice.” She chokes out the next words. “Do you think it was a happy moment for me? That I relished in the thought of dying? Because suicide wasn’t me telling them that didn’t matter—it was me telling them that didn’t matter. I was drowning, James. I was alone, and I was drowning. And obviously, your mother was too.”

It kills me to think of her feeling so hopeless when she had all of us here, supporting and loving her. Her limp body hanging from the noose around her neck flashes through my mind, and I picture Phoenix in her place. Cold and dead. This beautiful soul gone forever.

I stab the air with my finger. “You could’ve done better. You could’ve tried harder. Anything! You could’ve done anything except for killing yourself. How could you even think of doing that?” My own cheeks are wet now as I toss the words at her like daggers. “Phoenix, I can’t be with someone like you.”

She wraps her arms around herself like a protective shield. “You mean someone like your mother. Someone with depression.”

“I already lost one person, and I won’t put myself in that position again.”

“I am not your mother. I was lucky to be given a second chance, and I got help. I go to therapy, and I take my medication. I won’t allow myself to get to that place ever again. I won’t—”

“It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head and yank open her front door. “I can’t do this.”

She wipes her tears with the backs of her hands and squares her shoulders. “So you’re punishing me because of one mistake I made.”

I step onto her porch and dig my heels in as deep as I can. “There are some things you can’t undo.”

Leo opens the door to the garage and stares at me. “What’s your deal? You’ve been in here beating the hell out of that bag for over an hour.”

“Fuck off.” My arms burn, but I keep throwing sloppy punches at the hanging bag.

“You fuck off. Dad’s worried.”

“Dad’s always worried.”

“Yeah, but he’s never worried about . Something happen at work?”

“I said fuck off. I don’t want to talk about it.”

He walks into the garage and stands behind the bag like he’s going to hold it for me, but he pulls it back as I swing. I falter and brace myself against him so I don’t fall to the ground.

I shove him hard. “Don’t fuck with me, Leo. Not now.”

He bounces back and forth, wearing a dumb fucking smile. “Come on. You want to fight? Let’s fight.”

“I’m not fighting you.”

“You know you want to.” He smacks me in the back of the head. “Come on. Give me one good punch.”

“Leo.” I shoot him a warning glare as I start to walk away.

He sticks out his foot and trips me, and that does it. I whirl around and swing my fist, connecting with his jaw.

The fucker laughs. “There you go. Feels good, doesn’t it?”

“It’ll feel better when I knock you out.”

“Not gonna happen.” He dodges my next punch. “I have an iron jaw.”

“Let’s test that theory.” I swing again and clip him on the chin before he ducks out of the way.

But I don’t to hit him. This isn’t helping me feel better. I’ve been hitting the punching bag, waiting for the pain to go away, and it’s not working.

I drop my arms. “This is stupid.”

“Come on, bro. What’s wrong? If it’s not work, then…” He smirks. “Shit, it’s Nix. That should’ve been my first guess. You’re all bent out of shape over a girl. What happened? Did she shoot you down?”

Just the sound of her name has my heart thrashing against my chest. I feel terrible for the way I reacted to what she told me. I can’t get the look on her face out of my head. I hurt her, and that’s the last thing I ever wanted to do.

But how the hell was I supposed to respond? The woman I care about told me she tried to end her life, the same way my mother ended hers.

I shove my fingers through my hair, pulling at the roots. “God, I’m so fucking stupid.”

Leo’s expression sobers. “What did you do?”

Then I freeze. “Wait, did you know about this?”

“Still don’t know what you’re talking about.”

I scrub my hand over my jaw. “Of course you know. You’re like two peas in a fucked-up pod. You should’ve told me.”

He holds up his palms. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about. You’re not making any sense.”

“That scar on her wrist. You got her a bracelet to cover it. Do you know what that scar is from?”

His shoulders fall. “I have a pretty good idea what it’s from.”

“So, she didn’t tell you?”

He shakes his head. “She didn’t really have to. It’s obvious.”

Anger rears up again inside me. “Well, it wasn’t obvious to me.”

Leo’s jaw drops. “Wait, she told you?”

I nod once.

“And you’re… mad about it?” He looks from the bag to me. “She tells you she was so fucking low that she tried to kill herself, and you’re in here punching a fucking bag instead of holding her?”

Acid burns my throat. “I can’t go through that again, Leo!” My voice cracks. “You didn’t find her hanging there—you didn’t see Mom until I cut her down.”

The color of her skin, the lacerations around her neck, her bloodshot eyes, and her lifeless body hanging like a piece of laundry. The image is burned into my mind like a brand, a searing hot memory of horror and agony.

“Just because I didn’t see her doesn’t mean I didn’t lose her just the same.” Leo grips my shoulders. “I’m so sorry you had to see that. I’m sure it haunts you, and it probably always will. But Phoenix is not the same as Mom. Mom never wanted to get help. She was sick, and she stayed sick. Phoenix is different. She wants to live. She’s a fighter.”

“How do you know that? How can you guarantee someone with depression isn’t going to take a turn one day?” Bile rises in my throat. “I can’t go down that road with her.”

“Yes, you can. That girl over there? She’s worth . And she makes you happy—truly happy. She makes you smile, and she makes you feel. I’ve seen it. You’re different when you’re with her. And you can’t pass that up just because you’re too fucking scared.”

My head spins, and my hands shake. “What if she tries to end it again, and she succeeds? She did it once before. What’s to stop her from doing it again?”

Leo shoves me, hard. “You! You’ll stop her. And me! And Dad. We’ll be the family she never fucking got to have. We’ll give her what she’s been missing all this time. Her piece-of-shit mother disowned her after she tried to kill herself, and her brother couldn’t give a shit less that she’s still alive. She cared enough to pour her heart out to you, and you turned your back on her the same way they did.” He shakes his head. “You fucking asshole. She’s not the same person she once was. She won’t do it again. I fucking know it.”

Each of his words hurt worse than the gunshot I took to the hip. He’s right. I know he is. Yet he can’t erase the fear gripping my heart.

“You can’t someone not kill themselves, Leo. No matter how much we loved Mom, she left us anyway. It’s the same for Phoenix, and it’s the same for you. You’ll do drugs if you want to do drugs, no matter how many times I try to stop you. I can’t stop her if she wants to die.”

“Maybe not, but you can sure as fuck give her a reason to want to live.” His chest heaves. “

can be that reason for her.

can help make her life worth living.”

The words tear from deep within my chest as I hurl them at him. “And what if I’m not enough? Then what? What if I’m not enough to make her want to stay? I wasn’t enough for Mom. Who says I’ll be enough for anyone else?”

My confession hovers in the silence between us.

Leo tilts his head and his mouth opens. “Oh god, James.”

I turn away, needing to look anywhere but at his knowing stare.

“

what you’ve been carrying around since Mom died?”

My chest deflates, and my shoulders drop. “Why couldn’t she just stay? Why couldn’t she try harder? Why did she have to leave us like we didn’t matter?”

The door creaks open, and both of our heads snap to Dad standing in the doorway. His red, watery eyes bounce between us.

He points his index finger at me as he takes slow steps into the garage. “You listen to me, and you listen good. Your mother was sick. There was nothing any of us could’ve done to help her because she didn’t know how to help herself. She was in too deep and couldn’t see her way out.” He jabs his finger into my chest when he gets close. “But what she did had nothing to do with you or your worth. Not a goddamn thing. Do you hear me?”

My eyes burn, and my throat tightens as I try to push out the words. “How do you bear it? Every single day, how can you stand it that she left? You loved her so much, and she’s just gone.”

“Some days, I can hardly stand the pain in my chest.” A tear rolls down his cheek. “But I know her pain was greater than any of us could understand, and I can only hope that wherever she is, she is free of it.”

Leo covers his face with both of his hands. Dad wraps his arm around his shoulders and reaches for me with his other arm. He pulls us in close, and we put our heads together.

“Don’t live your lives in fear or in sorrow. She wouldn’t want that for you. Live your life like every day is your fucking last, boys. Dream big, take chances, and love with all you’ve got.” Dad sniffles before he finishes. “Live your life Mom, not as a hollow result of what she did.”

Leo pulls away first, wiping his tears with the hem of his T-shirt before he walks out the door.

And I know where he’s going.

Wilbur barks at the sound of the doorbell. My foolish heart hopes it’ll be James on the other side of the door, but my mind knows better.

He left hours ago, and I’m not sure he’ll ever come back. Not after the things he said to me. I’ve been curled in a ball on the couch, wishing there was something I could do or say to change his mind. But that’s the battle I’ve been fighting with my mom my entire life. Some people will never understand what depression is like because they don’t want to try to understand what it’s like—and that’s just the way it is.

As soon as I crack open the door, Leo pushes his way in and engulfs me in a hug. My knees buckle as the emotion overcomes me.

“It’s okay. I’ve got you.” He holds me tight and presses a kiss to the top of my head. “Everything is going to be okay.”

I sniffle as I pull back and look up into his dark eyes. “Does this mean you don’t hate me too?”

“He doesn’t hate you. He’s giving you all the anger he wants to give Mom.” He leads me back into the living room and pulls me onto the couch beside him. “And I couldn’t hate you for doing what you did. I’m relieved as fuck that you didn’t succeed in killing yourself. It breaks my heart to know that you felt that much despair. It’s killing James too.”

I rest my head on Leo’s shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about him right now.”

“Then tell me what you want to do.”

“I want to sit here and talk with my little brother, who I appreciate more than anything in this whole world.”

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s why I love you so damn much.”

“I knew.” He turns over my hand and lifts up my sleeve to inspect my wrist. “I knew what you did to yourself. I was just waiting for you to feel comfortable enough to tell me about it.”

“It’s not something I wanted to share with anyone.”

And James’s reaction proves why.

Leo twirls a strand of my hair. “We all want to stop the pain. Some of us are just more proactive about it than others.”

A laugh escapes me. “You’re sick for making a joke about this.”

“And you’re just as sick for laughing at it. The humor is how we survive.”

I look up at the ceiling. “God, we’re a sorry pair.”

“Hey, Nix?” He nudges me with his knee. “Will you tell me what it felt like?”

My eyebrows press together. “To die?”

He nods. “Did you regret it while it was happening? Or did you feel relieved?”

I choose my words carefully, knowing he’s trying to make sense of what his mother did. “I felt relieved. Tired. Weightless. Like I was drifting off to sleep, and everything was calm.”

He lets his head fall back against the couch. “So, no pain then?”

I grip his hand and lie again. “No pain.”

His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “Good.”

Sadness and guilt seep into my stomach. “Leo, I’m so sorry your mom went through that. I’m sorry she’s gone. I’m sorry she couldn’t find her way out of the darkness. But I hope you know that it’s not your fault, and she’d tell you the same thing if she were here.”

He nods, and he swats away a tear as it springs free. “I don’t take that responsibility like my brother does. But I just wish she would’ve opened up to me and told me what she was going through. I wish I was older when it happened. Maybe I could’ve helped her in some way.”

“You were her son. I’m sure she didn’t want to put that on you, regardless of how old you were.”

“I miss her.”

A ball of emotion clogs my throat. “I wish I could’ve known her.”

“Me too.” He laces our fingers. “I’m glad I could know you though.”

I smile through my tears. “You might not have been able to help your mom, but you’re helping me. Knowing that I have your friendship makes all the difference. Please know that.”

He wipes his eye again. “Shit, Nixie. You’re making me emotional when I’m supposed to be tough and manly.”

A laugh bursts out of me. “Is that why you got all these tattoos? To make you look tough and manly?”

He grins. “Had to disguise the teddy bear inside me somehow.”

“Nah, you’re not a teddy bear. You’ve got a lion heart.”

“Guess that makes James the cowardly lion then.”

I say nothing. James scared, and rightfully so. We shouldn’t fault him for that—no matter how much it hurts.

“You gotta help him find his heart, Nix. It’s in there. I know it is.”

I bury my face in a decorative pillow and groan. “It’s not my job to find his heart. He needs to dig deep and find his own damn courage if he wants to have any kind of happiness in life.”

“He’ll get over this temper tantrum. Give him time.”

. I gave my mother time, hoping she’d come around—but it’s been two years, and she hasn’t. James might not either. And why am I always waiting around, hoping for people to ? Why can’t I be enough for someone to love on the spot, regardless of my mental health? Why can’t we accept people for who they are, instead of punishing them for all their shortcomings?

“Like I said, I don’t want to talk about your brother.”

“Fine.” Leo lifts his hips, slips his hand into his pocket, and pulls out a joint. “Then let’s get high instead.”