Chapter 35 Ivan #3
"It was really good," I tell her.
Rosalyn is quiet for a moment, studying my face. I can see her weighing her words, deciding how much to say.
"Ivan, I need to ask you something, and I need you to be completely honest with me."
"Okay." My heart starts racing.
"This bond you have with your friend, Jay. This connection that made you search for years." She pauses, choosing her words carefully. "Is it just because of what you went through together? Trauma bonding, shared history? Or is it something more than that?"
My heart stutters, then pounds. I knew this question was coming. I've been preparing for it the whole drive home, rehearsing different answers.
But now that the moment is here, I realize there's only one answer I can give.
"It's more," I say quietly. "I have feelings for him. Real feelings. Not just gratitude or trauma bonding or whatever you might be thinking. I care about him deeply. I didn't realize it until I saw him again. But my feelings are romantic for him now. We're together."
Rosalyn's expression doesn't change. She just nods slowly, like I've confirmed something she already suspected.
"How long have you known? About your feelings?"
"About my feelings for Jay? Since I found him two weeks ago and realized how much I've been missing him." I push my food around my plate, suddenly not hungry.
"And now?"
"And now I found him. And I can't pretend it's just friendship or brotherly love or whatever else would be easier to explain." I look at her directly. "I know this is a lot. I know you probably have concerns and questions. I know this isn't what you pictured for me."
"I do have concerns." She reaches across the table and puts her hand on mine, her touch warm and grounding. "But not the ones you might think. Not the ones you're afraid of."
"What do you mean?"
"I'm not concerned about you having feelings for a man.
Love is love. I've always believed that.
God makes people the way He makes them, and there's nothing wrong with loving who you love.
" She squeezes my hand. "I'm concerned about you getting hurt.
You've built a good life here. A stable life.
You have a job you're good at, people who care about you, a future that looks bright.
And this person you care about, from what you've told me, he sounds like he's in a very fragile place. A very difficult situation."
"He is. I won't lie about that."
"People in fragile places sometimes pull others down with them.
Not because they mean to, not because they're bad people, but because they're drowning and they grab onto whatever's closest." Her eyes are gentle but serious, worried.
"I don't want you to drown trying to save him.
I've seen it happen before. Good people with good hearts who destroy themselves trying to fix someone else. "
"I won't. I'm not trying to fix him."
"You can't promise that, Ivan. You can only try your best." She sits back in her chair. "Tell me about him. Not the arrest, not the problems, not the things that scare me. Tell me about the person. Who is he underneath all of that?"
I take a breath, trying to figure out where to start, how to make her understand.
"When I was twelve, I got placed with the Hendersons. You know some of this already. The man was bad. He drank heavily, and when he drank, he hit us. Me and Jay both."
Rosalyn nods. She knows the broad strokes, knows it was bad. I've never told her the full details, never wanted to burden her with them.
"Jay was already there when I arrived. He was fourteen, two years older than me.
He'd been in the system longer than I had, moved around more, knew how to survive in ways I didn't understand yet.
" I stare at my plate, remembering those early days.
"He couldn't always protect me. Henderson was bigger than both of us, meaner, stronger.
But Jay tried. Every single time, he tried. "
"What do you mean, tried?"
"He taught me things. Survival things. How to stay quiet when Henderson was drinking, how to make yourself invisible, how to read his moods so we'd know when to disappear into the barn.
" I pause, the memories sharp. "There was this thing in PE class.
I didn't want to wear shorts because I had welts on my legs from Henderson's belt.
Fresh ones that would've been obvious. Jay told me to refuse.
He said take the failing grade, run extra laps as punishment, accept detention.
Whatever they give you. Just don't let the coach see the marks. "
Rosalyn's face tightens, her hand going to her mouth. "Oh, Ivan. Why didn't you want anyone to see? Why not tell someone?"
"Because if the school reported it, child services would come.
And if child services came, they'd separate us.
We knew that." I meet her eyes, needing her to understand.
"We'd both been moved enough times to know exactly how it worked.
They'd put us in different homes, different towns maybe.
We'd never see each other again. So, we hid it.
We took the abuse because the alternative of losing each other was worse. "
"Ivan..."
"Jay was the only good thing in that house. The only thing that made it bearable. He snuck me food when Henderson withheld meals as punishment. He held me in the barn when I couldn't stop shaking from fear or cold. He was my family when I didn't have anyone else in the world. And I was his."
"What happened? How did you get separated in the end?"
"Henderson was beating me one night. For something Jay did, actually.
Jay had stolen some canned beans from the pantry in case they didn't feed us.
Henderson decided to punish me for it instead of Jay.
Because he knew that would hurt Jay more.
" I swallow hard, the memory vivid even after all these years.
"Jay tried to watch it but he couldn't stand it.
He grabbed Henderson by the arm, tried to stop him.
Henderson broke Jay's arm in retaliation.
Snapped it like a twig. I heard it break and Jay screamed. "
Rosalyn's hand goes to her mouth, her eyes wide with horror.
"We went to school the next day and he tried to hide it.
Of course, you can't hide a broken arm for long and child services was called.
I never saw him again after we got on the school bus that morning.
They didn't even give us a chance to say goodbye.
" I wipe my eyes with the back of my hand, not caring that I'm crying.
"Until two weeks ago when I found that arrest article. "
"And the man you found after all these years? What's he like now?"
"He's different. Older, obviously. Worn down by life in ways that makes me hurt for him.
" I look at her, needing her to see the truth.
"He's been completely alone since he aged out of the system at eighteen.
No family, no support system, no one who cared whether he lived or died.
He's been surviving on his own with no safety net. "
"That sounds incredibly hard. I can't imagine."
"It is hard. But underneath all the damage, underneath all the pain and the struggle, he's still the same person." I lean forward. "He still puts everyone else before himself. He's worth fighting for."
"He sounds like someone worth fighting for," she says.
"He is. He's worth everything."
"But he also sounds like someone who needs to do some fighting for himself," she adds. "You can't do it for him, no matter how much you want to."
"He told me the same thing this morning."
Rosalyn smiles. "Smart man. He knows what he needs."
"He is smart. He's a lot of things people don't see because they only look at the surface." I need her to trust me. "I know you're worried. I know this isn't what you pictured for me. But I need you to trust me. I need you to believe that I know what I'm doing."
"I trust you, baby. I've always trusted you." She stands up and comes around the table, pulling me into a hug, holding me tight. "I trust your judgment and your heart. Just be careful with both of them. That's all I ask. Guard yourself even while you're helping him."
"I will."
She holds me for a moment longer, then pulls back, her hands on my shoulders. "Now go help Diana with her math before she stresses herself out. She's been wound up about that test all weekend."
"Yes, ma'am."
I head toward Diana's room, my heart feeling lighter than it has all day.
But Rosalyn stops me at the door. "Ivan?
" She pauses, choosing her words. "Bring him here sometime.
When he's ready. When he feels like he wants to come.
I'd like to meet the person who means so much to you.
The person you searched for all those years. "
My throat tightens with emotion. "I will. When he's ready. When he's dealt with some of his stuff."
She nods and turns back to the kitchen. I stand there for a moment, letting her words sink in, feeling the acceptance and love in them.
When he's ready.
I hope that day comes sooner rather than later.