13
BODHI
“We love you so much, Bodhi,” Mom says through her tears. “When Lori first came to see me and your dad and she told us about you, we were in total shock. I didn’t know if I could love Saffron’s child.”
Agony is etched upon her face, and I know it’s hard for her to say these things to me, but I appreciate her honesty. It’s not anything I don’t know from the movie now anyway.
“We spent a week talking and reflecting on it, running through our options,” Dad explains.
He runs a hand through his bleach-blond hair, and the strain on his face is obvious. The scruff on his chin is thicker than he usually wears it, and he has dark shadows and pronounced bags under his eyes. He looks exhausted. I know him, and I bet he didn’t sleep because he wanted Mom and Easton to sleep, and he watched over me in case I woke.
“We independently reached the decision to adopt you because we wanted to give you a home, Bodhi. We wouldn’t have reached that decision if we couldn’t have treated you as an equal member of this family.” Dad leans over and grips the side of my head with a gentle touch. “My flesh and blood runs through your veins, Bodhi. You’re as much my son as Easton is. It kills me that you would ever think that couldn’t be true.” He presses his brow to mine for few seconds before easing back, not wanting to hurt me, I’m guessing. “Having you in my life helped to assuage some of my guilt with regards to Reeve. I never got a chance to know my brother. Some of that was my fault, and it’s something I must live with for the rest of my life. I have made my peace with it because continuing to beat myself up over something that is in the past, something I can’t control or change, is pointless. It took me years to accept that realization, so I understand some of what you’re going through. Getting to raise Reeve’s son was a way for me to feel connected to him, but, my God, Bodhi, you are so much more than that.”
Tears drip down his face as he reclaims his seat, placing his hand over Mom’s hand on mine. Mom is still crying too, and Easton is swiping at a few errant tears leaking from his eyes.
Hell, I’m an emotional mess as well.
But that’s nothing new.
What is new is the fact I’m not hiding it anymore.
“You aremy son, and I love you for the person you are. Not because you are Reeve’s son or a way for me to connect with the brother I didn’t know. Like your brother said, you’re a good person. Smart, compassionate, caring. I watch you jotting down song lyrics in your journal, and my heart bursts with pride knowing we share the same passion. I listen to you composing songs on your guitar in the studio and I’m blown away by your talent and your commitment. I see how you dote on your sisters, look up to your brother, and every time you call Vivien Mom, I feel it in here.” He thumps a hand over his chest.
“I cried tears of joy the first time you called me Mommy,” Mom says. “I was pregnant with Fleur, and it was about four or five months after Lori passed. We were really worried about you. You were so quiet. You kept so much locked up inside. You called me Mommy Vivien, and I seriously thought my heart would burst.”
She leans in and kisses my cheek. “Like Dillon, at first, I thought adopting you would be a way for me to keep a piece of Reeve with me always, and it is. Some days, you say something a certain way, or make a gesture that reminds me of your father, and it takes me back.” She looks over at Easton. “I see reminders of Reeve in you too. You both look so alike it’s not hard to see it at times.” She kisses my dad on the lips. “I see elements of you in the boys too.”
He kisses her back, nodding.
She returns her attention to me. “But, Bodhi, you are so much more than that. It’s like Dillon said, you’re your own person. A truly wonderful, amazing, inquisitive, thoughtful, deep thinker. Watching you blossom and grow has been one of the most rewarding experiences of my life.” She reaches across the bed for Easton’s hand. “That goes for you as well. We are so blessed with both you boys and we love you very much.” A cry filters from her lips. “It kills me to think you might not feel that.”
“No, Mom.” Ignoring the searing-hot pain the motion produces, I lean forward and hug her. “You have done nothing wrong. I know you love me. It’s me who feels unworthy of all of you, not the other way around.”
Dad and Easton sit on the edge of the bed, carefully draping their arms around us as we embrace in a group hug.
And it’s everything.
It would be virtually impossible for me to ignore their love when they surround me with it all the time. Even when I was putting them through hell, they never gave up on me.
“I hate that you feel unworthy,” Mom says when we break our embrace and everyone reclaims their seats. She softly cups my cheek. “You are so worthy, Bodhi, and we are lucky to have you in our lives.” She peers at me with so much love in her eyes it would be impossible to deny the truth. “I know you have a lot of emotions to process. I know the things you have to deal with are things no boy your age should ever have to face. But you aren’t alone. You have us. We will help you to get through this. But please don’t shut us out again. Let us help you. Let us love you. Let us be there for you the way a family should, because we love you and we hate to see you in so much pain.”
“I know it won’t be easy,” Dad says, piercing me with that no-bullshit look of his. “I went through something similar when I was your age, and I can relate to some of how you are feeling. We can’t make this right for you. You need to process this yourself, and you are going to get mad, sad, and every other emotion in between. Just promise us you’ll lean on us. You can talk to me at any time about anything, and I won’t judge.”
He leans back, exhaling with a wry smile. “I was an absolute asshole back in the day. I treated my parents like shit. I didn’t tell my mum I loved her until I was in my twenties. I lashed out at everyone, and I fixated on revenge instead of trying to heal myself. If my mistakes can help you to avoid making the same ones, I will gladly tell you everything. But only you can do the hard work, buddy. We will support you however we can, but the hard slog is yours. It won’t be easy and there is no quick fix.”
“You are entitled to your feelings, Bodhi,” Mom adds, dabbing at her face with a tissue. “Just like East is entitled to his.” Her gaze dances between us. “Both of you need to work through them. Don’t ever feel guilty for how you feel but let us help you figure it out.”
“I will try,” I admit, meaning it with my whole heart, as East bobs his head.
“Why were you in West Adams?” Mom asks. “I need to understand how you ended up there and who did this to you because those assholes are going to be behind bars even if I have to scour the streets searching for them myself.” Fierce determination glimmers in her eyes along with righteous anger.
“Steady on there, GI Jane,” Dad says, his lips tipping up at the corners. “You won’t be stepping foot in that hellhole. We’ll hire a PI and find these scumbags ourselves, doling out some vigilante justice of our own before we hand them on a silver platter to the cops.” His eyes burn as he stares at me. “Mark my words, those assholes will pay for this.”
“Yes, Dad.” Easton nods in agreement. “I want in on the vigilante justice part. Those fuckers hurt my brother, and I want to make them pay.” He cracks his knuckles, looking ready to bulldoze the world for me.
A lump wedges in my throat. How could I ever have thought the things I thought about my family? All they have ever done is love me and take care of me. I know I have a long road ahead to deal with things, but I make a silent vow to myself to not take it out on my family anymore.
They are the heroes in my story. They are not my enemy.