I take a breath and try to put it into words, trying to explain the fear that's been clawing at my chest since she said she was pregnant.
"I'm thinking about my father," I say finally.
She doesn't say anything, just waits for me to continue.
"He used to beat the shit out of me when I was a kid," I continue. "For any reason, sometimes for no reason at all. I'd come home from school and he'd be drunk and angry and I'd end up with bruises."
My hands clench into fists just remembering it—the helplessness, the constant fear.
"Violence was normal in my house," I say. "Fear was constant. I learned early that men could become monsters behind closed doors, that fathers could hurt their kids and nobody would stop them."
"Rush—"
"Let me finish. I need to say this."
She nods and I keep going.
"And then when Ruby was born, he started hurting her too." My voice breaks on Ruby's name. "She was six years old and terrified of him. I tried to protect her but I was just a kid. I couldn't stop him. I'd get between them and take the hits but it was never enough."
Everly's hand finds mine and squeezes.
"When Ms. Michaels, Octavia, my teacher, called child protective services, my father found out. He was going to sell Ruby as punishment, make her disappear. He told me if I wanted to save her I had to go hurt Octavia, make her pay for calling CPS."
I close my eyes and see it again—the fear, the desperation, the gun shaking in my hands. "I didn't want to do it, but he had Ruby and I knew he'd go through with his threat. So I went to Octavia’s house with a gun he gave me."
"Rush, you don't have to?—"
"Yes, I do. You need to understand what I'm capable of."
She's quiet and I force myself to keep talking.
"Octavia tried to talk me down. She wasn't scared. She was kind. She kept saying my name, telling me it was going to be okay. My finger squeezed the trigger and I shot her." The memory makes my stomach turn. "There was so much blood," I say quietly. "And I just stood there frozen, the gun in my hands, knowing I'd become exactly what I was trying to protect Ruby from."
"But you didn't mean to shoot her, right?"
"I did. I’d do anything for Ruby. In juvie I learned just how much violence I'm capable of. I fought a lot at first because I didn't know how else to handle the anger. Other kids would come at me and I'd put them down hard."
"You were defending yourself."
"Was I? Or was I just looking for an excuse to hurt someone?"
She sits up and looks at me. "Rush, you were a scared kid trying to survive in a horrible place."
"Maybe, but I liked it. That's what terrifies me. I liked the feeling of hitting someone, of being stronger, of making them afraid. Just like my father."
"No," she says firmly. "Not like your father. Your father enjoyed hurting people who were weaker than him, who couldn't fight back. You defended yourself against people who came at you first."
"It's still violence."
"It's survival. There's a difference."
I want to believe her but the fear is still there. "What if I have a kid and I lose control?" I ask. "What if I have a bad day and I hit them? What if I turn around one day and realize I've become him?"
Everly takes my face in her hands again. "Rush, listen to me. You are not your father and you never will be."
"How do you know?"
"Because your father never questioned himself. He never sat there terrified he'd hurt his kids. He just did it without thought or remorse. But you? You've been questioning yourself since the day I met you. You walk away when you're angry, you lock down the violence, you make conscious choices every single day to be better."