We had a fight. He’s gone.
What? No!
What happened? Are you okay?
Do you mean he left you in San Antonio?
I snorted.
Yeah, I think so.
I’ll be there in an hour. What hotel are you in?
I almost told her not to worry about it, that I’d be okay—but like before, that wasn’t the truth.
I wasn’t okay, and I badly needed my friend.
***
True to her word, Stella arrived at the hotel exactly one hour later, her familiar figure a welcome sight as I stepped outside. As I neared Stella’s car, my legs grew heavy, and I had to force each step, the day’s emotional toll crashing down on me.
But Stella was there, her arms open and inviting, and I practically fell into them. We stood there for a long moment, the sounds of the city fading into the background as I hugged her. She held me tightly, her hand rubbing soothing circles on my back, and her voice murmured gentle reassurances and support.
When we finally pulled apart, a sense of gratitude washed over me for the friend who had dropped everything to be by my side in my time of need. I loaded my bags into the trunk of her car, my hands shaking slightly as I carefully placed Marc’s belongings next to mine—another reminder of what I’d lost today.
As we drove away from the hotel, the city passing by in a blur of colors and shapes, Stella reached over and took my hand. “When you’re ready to talk about it, I’m here. But no pressure.”
Something about her soft words was like a key that opened this lock inside me, and words tumbled out.
I poured out my heart to Stella, the words tumbling from my lips as I started at the beginning, how Marc and I connected instantly. I told her about last night, and how magical it had been for the two of us, away from Blanco Springs and our responsibilities. “It was the best night of my life.”
Stella sighed. “Oh Kenny.”
Then — “But this morning we fought, and he left.” I turned toward her, and added, “It’s not his fault. I did something wrong, and I wasn’t honest with him. He feels very betrayed, and I understand. I’m one hundred percent to blame, and if he never wanted to be with me again, I’d understand.”
Saying those words aloud hurt, but it helped to share that grief with Stella, still glancing over at me every few moments, worried, as she absorbed every word.
When I finally fell silent, she reached over and took my hand in hers. “I know it seems impossible right now,” she said, her voice filled with empathy. “But if what you and Marc have is truly love, then it’s worth fighting for. You can’t give up, Ken. Keep trying, keep reaching out, until you make things right.”
“Not sure that I can.”
Stella paused, then let out a deep sigh. “Kenny, the fight—did it have to do with Marc’s…website?” she asked softly.
My breath caught in my throat, my eyes widening in shock as I stared at her.
How did she know about the page? Had Marc told her? Had someone else discovered his secret and spread the word? “H-how did you know about that?” I stammered.
Stella sighed as she reached into her purse and pulled out her phone, her fingers tapping the phone one-handed. “There’s something you need to see.”
She handed me the device, and dread crept in as my heart stopped.
There, on the screen, was a post from the parent Facebook group for our elementary school. A blurred screenshot of Marc’s fan page splashed across it, accompanied by a lengthy caption expressing outrage and concern over the “lewd, homosexual behaviors” that might harm the school and its students.
As I scrolled through the comments, running the gamut from ridicule and amusement to hateful and damning, a wave of nausea washed over me.
This was exactly what I’d feared, Marc’s secret coming out.
I handed the phone back, my hand trembling. “I knew about the website, even before Mia enrolled. I knew who he was, but I never told him, even after we got close. He found out today. That’s why we fought.”
