“Do you intend to ask them to move in with you?”
“Not into this house, no.”
“Why?”
“It’s not safe.”
“Not safe? What do you mean?”
“You threatened to pull me out of university. How can I ask them to move in with me if there’s a chance of you making them homeless with a click of your fingers?”
He opens and closes his mouth a few times. “I made you feel that way?”
“Yes.”
He presses his palm to his forehead. “Am I that awful a father?”
Do I want to answer that? Probably not. I clench my teeth.
“I’m sorry.” He sinks into the closest seat.
Part of me wants to hug him and tell him it’s okay, but it’s not. It’s like Casey said yesterday: I’m holding up a mirror to Dad’s behaviour. He might not like it, but it’s about time he faced it. Will he change? Can he change? Will he want to?
“I’m sorry.”
I swallow. My throat is raw. Tears prickle my eyes. I will not shed tears because of him.
“Two boyfriends?” he says at last.
“Yes. Polyamory is more common than you think.”
“I’ll take your word for it. Tell me about them.”
I tell him everything about Emory and Casey and how we met. How playing games with Casey’s feelings ultimately ended up in us being in a loving relationship that works for us. How Emory has helped me to do better at university. How amazing Casey is at swimming. How inspiring they are. How in love with them I am. I talk and talk until my throat is dry and my tongue is tired. Dad is quiet throughout. Is it a good sign or a bad one?
“Ask them to come down,” he says when there’s nothing left to say.
I don’t want to put my boyfriends in the firing line.
“Please.” The word holds a gallon of emotion. Enough to drown my fear.
“Okay. I won’t be long.”
My boyfriends are where I left them, concern etched on their faces.
“He knows about you. He wants you to come down.”
“You told him?” Emory asks.
“I couldn’t keep quiet. I love you too much to keep you a secret.”
Casey gets out of bed and wraps his arms around me. “That can’t have been easy.”
I hold him. “It wasn’t, but I love you. I’m not ashamed of being with you.”
He pecks my lips. “We never thought you did.”
“Let’s go downstairs,” Emory says, joining us.
