you?”
“No,” Darren said flatly. “When I do sport—really rigorous sport—I can’t think and perform at the same time. I just can’t. I stop thinking, but in a good way. So for a while, nothing else matters. It’s just me and my body and that’s it. It’s very focused, very sharp, and I can forget about everything else. It lets me get a bit of distance and work off the temper. It gets through, most times. Gets through the haze.”
Jayden watched his face carefully.
“So yeah, when there’s a lot to work off, I don’t notice,” Darren shrugged. “But I’m not doing it on purpose. Not like the knife.”
He still had the knife, Jayden knew. It was in the bottom drawer in the side table in their bedroom. Jayden checked it every night, knew the shape of the blade and wearing of age by heart. Knew exactly what he was looking for.
“I’m after the workout, not this,” Darren curled his knuckles in the sink of warm water, and Jayden returned to cleaning them tentatively.
“Okay,” Jayden settled on eventually and drained the sink. Gritty pink water whirled away down the plughole. “Go sit in the living room and I’ll get some antiseptic cream.” Which was in the locked cupboard that Darren wasn’t allowed access to.
“For the record,” Darren said, “I’m pretty sure you can’t top yourself with antiseptic cream.”
Jayden rolled his eyes, not in the mood to argue the point, and Darren disappeared into the next room. Jayden wasn’t sure how he felt. On the one hand, the counsellor had obviously said something really stupid to get Darren staying in the gym for nearly five hours, and he seemed okay now but he’d been really upset earlier…
On the other hand, what were they supposed to do now? Getting him to go and see Elaine had been hard enough, and Jayden knew Darren well enough to know he wasn’t going to get so lucky a—he counted—fifth time. And they couldn’t just stop treatment altogether, otherwise they’d be right back where they started, and what then? Darren couldn’t carry on being so ill. Eventually, he’d lose his job because they’d deem him mentally unfit for the role, or he’d be passed over for promotion until he quit anyway, and that would make him worse because although he grumbled, he loved his job, he really did, and…
Jayden ground the heel of his hand into his face and sighed, fumbling with the lock and opening the cupboard. They had to do something. Go back to the doctor or something.
Darren had settled on the sofa, TV on, by the time Jayden composed himself and followed. Without the messy layer of blood, the scrapes weren’t so bad, and one thing Darren could do was take antiseptic cream like a man: he pulled a face at the first cold dab, but let Jayden rub it in quietly enough.
“I’ll call the surgery before I go to work in the morning,” Jayden murmured lowly. “Make another appointment.”
“They’re not that bad.”
“About the counselling, not your hands.”
“…Okay.”
“We need to deal with this.”
“Yeah.”
“We can’t just walk away from all the options, especially as the drugs messed you around so badly last time.”
“Mm.”
“And we…”
“Jayden, stop it,” Darren said gently, squeezing his hand. “Stop fussing. I’m fine. I feel better now. I was just pissed off, it wasn’t that .”
Jayden licked his lips. “What did she say?”
Darren rolled his eyes, drawing a foot up onto the sofa to shift sideways. He did look more relaxed, Jayden decided as he wiped his hands off. Maybe Darren was all right, for the moment.
“She’s been banging on for ages that I need to cut ties with my past, you know? Have a fresh start and get away from…” Darren waved one of those huge hands vaguely. “Everything, I guess. Father, music, the violin, all of that. Says that the only way I’ll learn to open up and trust properly is to effectively forget a bit of my own history.”
Jayden frowned.
“And that history
“No,” Darren said flatly. “When I do sport—really rigorous sport—I can’t think and perform at the same time. I just can’t. I stop thinking, but in a good way. So for a while, nothing else matters. It’s just me and my body and that’s it. It’s very focused, very sharp, and I can forget about everything else. It lets me get a bit of distance and work off the temper. It gets through, most times. Gets through the haze.”
Jayden watched his face carefully.
“So yeah, when there’s a lot to work off, I don’t notice,” Darren shrugged. “But I’m not doing it on purpose. Not like the knife.”
He still had the knife, Jayden knew. It was in the bottom drawer in the side table in their bedroom. Jayden checked it every night, knew the shape of the blade and wearing of age by heart. Knew exactly what he was looking for.
“I’m after the workout, not this,” Darren curled his knuckles in the sink of warm water, and Jayden returned to cleaning them tentatively.
“Okay,” Jayden settled on eventually and drained the sink. Gritty pink water whirled away down the plughole. “Go sit in the living room and I’ll get some antiseptic cream.” Which was in the locked cupboard that Darren wasn’t allowed access to.
“For the record,” Darren said, “I’m pretty sure you can’t top yourself with antiseptic cream.”
Jayden rolled his eyes, not in the mood to argue the point, and Darren disappeared into the next room. Jayden wasn’t sure how he felt. On the one hand, the counsellor had obviously said something really stupid to get Darren staying in the gym for nearly five hours, and he seemed okay now but he’d been really upset earlier…
On the other hand, what were they supposed to do now? Getting him to go and see Elaine had been hard enough, and Jayden knew Darren well enough to know he wasn’t going to get so lucky a—he counted—fifth time. And they couldn’t just stop treatment altogether, otherwise they’d be right back where they started, and what then? Darren couldn’t carry on being so ill. Eventually, he’d lose his job because they’d deem him mentally unfit for the role, or he’d be passed over for promotion until he quit anyway, and that would make him worse because although he grumbled, he loved his job, he really did, and…
Jayden ground the heel of his hand into his face and sighed, fumbling with the lock and opening the cupboard. They had to do something. Go back to the doctor or something.
Darren had settled on the sofa, TV on, by the time Jayden composed himself and followed. Without the messy layer of blood, the scrapes weren’t so bad, and one thing Darren could do was take antiseptic cream like a man: he pulled a face at the first cold dab, but let Jayden rub it in quietly enough.
“I’ll call the surgery before I go to work in the morning,” Jayden murmured lowly. “Make another appointment.”
“They’re not that bad.”
“About the counselling, not your hands.”
“…Okay.”
“We need to deal with this.”
“Yeah.”
“We can’t just walk away from all the options, especially as the drugs messed you around so badly last time.”
“Mm.”
“And we…”
“Jayden, stop it,” Darren said gently, squeezing his hand. “Stop fussing. I’m fine. I feel better now. I was just pissed off, it wasn’t that .”
Jayden licked his lips. “What did she say?”
Darren rolled his eyes, drawing a foot up onto the sofa to shift sideways. He did look more relaxed, Jayden decided as he wiped his hands off. Maybe Darren was all right, for the moment.
“She’s been banging on for ages that I need to cut ties with my past, you know? Have a fresh start and get away from…” Darren waved one of those huge hands vaguely. “Everything, I guess. Father, music, the violin, all of that. Says that the only way I’ll learn to open up and trust properly is to effectively forget a bit of my own history.”
Jayden frowned.
“And that history
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