''I got arrested for the wrong reason.''

That's how Luke always starts when new guys show up at The Healing Circle — sitting low in his folding chair, voice rough, hands too still. The garage they meet in still smells like motor oil and incense. It's nothing fancy. Just Tristan's place — an ex-priest turned counselor, opening his home to broken men trying not to stay broken.

Luke looks tired tonight. Not just physically — soul-tired. The kind you don't sleep off. The kind that settles behind your ribs and stays there.

''This place...it's probably the only reason I didn't crawl back to where I came from'' he says, flicking ash from a cigarette he won't finish. The others pass around boxed wine or beers. Not him. Not anymore.

''I was a bastard to my kids'' his voice gets quieter. His eyes don't rise ''I beat the oldest like I thought it would toughen him up. I never hit the youngest...I just told her with every word I ever spoke that she was worthless.''

and she believed me. God, that's the worst part. She believed me.

Silence. Not the kind that judges. The kind that listens.

''My ex-wife?'' Luke mutters, cracking a dry, bitter smile ''She was about as helpful as a white cop at a Black Lives Matter protest'' he looks toward Tristan ''Sorry, Father.''

A few chuckles echo through the room. Not loud. Just enough to let some of the weight lift.

''I didn't know how to love them'' he says ''Didn't know what love even was. Seeing them cry, seeing them need me, it didn't make me feel like a father. It made me feel weak. My old man broke my hip when I was eight for crying during a storm.''

I still hear that crack when I lie on my side. Still feel it.

Luke drops the cigarette, crushes it under his boot ''I'm not telling you this to make excuses. I just want someone to know I'm trying. Still. Even if it's too late.''

Maybe dying trying is all I'll get.

---

''The garage smells better than usual'' Luke mutters, hauling a box of chairs across the floor ''Someone light a candle? Or did Tony finally wash his pits?''

Tristan doesn't look up ''I think it's just your aura glowing with peace.''

Luke kneel to lift a box ''I haven't had peace since '94.'' Thud — the box hits the table ''Day grunge died.''

They both snort. They've done this dance for a while. Sarcasm first, pain second. Always in that order.

Tristan leans on his broom ''You doing okay?''

Luke shrugs ''You asked me that yesterday.''

''Yeah, and you lied'' Tristan started to mop the floor of the garage, slowly.

Luke doesn't answer right away. He sets up chairs. After the third, he sighs ''Ryan still won't answer my letters'' his voice is low now. Quieter ''And my daughter...she's trying. But she flinches when I walk into a room. Like I'm some goddamn landmine.''

I probably am, to be honest.

Tristan just nods, as he sits on a couple of boxes ''She's allowed to flinch, Luke.''

''I know'' Luke whispers, a little defeated while he sits next to Tristan ''That's what breaks me.''

They sit in silence for a bit and they started to share a cigarette. The hum of the fridge. The sound of night bugs outside. Familiar.

''Why do you do it?'' Luke asks, just to make conversation...but also really curious ''All this? Running group therapy in your garage for guys like me?''

Tristan takes a long drag of his cigarette, then exhales like it costs him something ''Because I was supposed to be better than you'' He doesn't sugarcoat it.

Luke looks over, silent, and raising an eyebrow

''I wore a collar, told people I was a shepherd. That I was holy. But I stayed silent when I knew who the wolves were. I didn't touch anyone. But I knew who did. And I let it go.'' Tristan voice cracks a little ''That's not guilt. That's sin by omission'' He takes another drag and exhales softly as an old-wise dragon ''So I left. Exposed them. Burned every bridge. My wife still says she can't believe I made it out without getting shot'' Tristan shrugs, like if his life at this point didn't matter anymore ''I do this because I owe. Not to God. Not the Church. I owe the people who were hurt while I did nothing.''

They stayed silent for a moment, just enjoying the company and the slice of the truth through their bodies.

Luke nods slowly after a moment of just accepting the words exchanged, then he finally adds ''Still feels like I'm in the hole.''

''You are'' Tristan meets his gaze ''But you're not digging anymore'' Tristan patted the shoulder of Luke, a small act of support ''You keep asking if you've earned forgiveness...but forgiveness isn't something you earn'' Tristan continues ''It's something they give. If they want. If they can. And maybe they can't. And that's okay.''

''Doesn’t feel okay'' Luke murmurs, a little lost and just...tired.