Page 30 of Ex- Factor

I leaned back on Dr. Bailey’s couch, tapping my knee. He always sat the same way—legs crossed, pen balanced on his notebook like he was just waiting for me to crack. Most days, I resisted. Today, though, the words were pushing.

“Yeah.” I let out a laugh that wasn’t funny.

“That camping trip? That was the first time I told anybody everything. And I didn’t even plan it.

It just… came out. I thought I’d feel weak after.

Thought they’d look at me different. But nah.

Eshe didn’t flinch. She looked at me like I wasn’t broken. Like I was just… me.”

“You felt accepted,” he said—not even asking, just naming it.

“Yeah. And ever since, I can’t shake the thought that maybe I should put a ring on Eshe’s finger. Not ‘someday.’ Soon. Like… real soon.”

Dr. Bailey tilted his head. “You’re looking at me like you want permission.”

I sighed, rubbing my palms against my jeans. “I guess. Should I do it? Am I ready, or am I about to screw her life up?”

He gave me that measured look—the one where he didn’t rush.

“Silas, readiness isn’t about perfection.

It’s about willingness. You’ve already chosen her in a hundred small ways —by letting her in, by telling her the truth, by not running.

You’re asking me, but it sounds like you’ve already made your decision. ”

I stared at the floor. My chest felt tight, but not the old kind of tight. This wasn’t dread. It was the weight of something big. Maybe he was right. Maybe I’d already chosen her.

I cleared my throat, changing the subject. “My parents called. A lot. I don’t pick up. They leave voicemails.”

“What would happen if you did?” Dr. Bailey asked.

I snorted. “I’d cuss them out, hang up. Either way, it’d be short. I don’t need to hear anything else from them. Not now, not ever.”

“Not even closure?”

“Closure?” I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. “Man, closure would be them leaving me the hell alone. Never talking to me again. That’s it. That’s the only peace I want from them.”

He studied me, tapping his pen once against the paper. “Then maybe that’s your answer. You don’t owe anyone—family included—continued access to you if they’re not healthy for you. Cutting them off isn’t cruelty. Sometimes it’s survival. But—”

He paused.

“But make sure you’re not just reacting. Make sure it’s a choice—not your wounds and trauma running the show.”

I leaned back again, nodding to myself more than to him. “I’m not reacting. I just don’t want to deal with them. I’m not looking back. All I want is Eshe, and my friends, and my son. That’s it.”

Dr. Bailey smiled faintly. “Then you have your answer.”