I thought that being financially independent would set me free.
What I didn’t realise back then is that some forms of dependence run much deeper than money.
Looking back now, it’s painfully clear: I was scared of letting them down. Scared they’d see me differently.
Scared they’d stop loving me.
The idea that a parent’s love could be unconditional never really made sense to me. Not in practice. Not in our house.
When I left Maddie, I didn’t give her a proper explanation.
I skirted around the truth, offering vague excuses and half-finished sentences. I knew I was hurting her. She deserved clarity, honesty, something more than what I was able to give.
But at the time, I didn’t know how. I wasn’t ready.
So I convinced myself I was doing the right thing. That one day, she’d understand. That, eventually, we’d both be better off.
I told myself she’d find someone who truly saw her, someone who would love her for everything she is, and I was right. She did. And Ian... well, I asked him to pretend it never happened.
I told him not to say a word about that night outside the club.
We never spoke about it again.
He was hurt, I could see that. But I think he understood.
In another life, maybe something real could have grown betweenus. But back then, I couldn’t even picture it.
All I knew how to do was run.
My plan was clear: get to Paris, settle in, then come out, first to Maddie, then to my parents, then to everyone else.
But every time I went home to Stratford, I lost my nerve.
And Maddie... she was never around when I visited.
I told myself it wouldn’t be right to tell anyone else until I told her first.
So time passed. Excuses stacked up. And now, four years later, I’m back in England with a truth I can no longer keep buried. I’ve run out of hiding places. It’s time to stop lying.
I’m not ashamed of who I am anymore. What I do feel ashamed of is how long it’s taken me to be honest, especially with the people who mattered most.
Paris gave me space. I had experiences, lovers, flings, and one-night stands. I learned what I liked, how to ask for it, how to give and receive without shame. I stopped being the boy who couldn’t understand why his girlfriend’s touch left him cold.
I’ve changed. I’ve grown.
But even now, with a career that’s gaining momentum, solo performances, and a seat in the Philharmonic, I feel unanchored. I’ve built a life, yes, but not a home.
No real friendships. No relationships that meant anything.
Just noise, applause, and silence.
I’ve come to understand that success isn’t enough. Neither is sex. I want more than fleeting moments. I want someone who truly sees me. Someone I can trust. Someone who stays.
But before I can find that person, I have to stop hiding. I have to start showing up. For myself. For the people who still care.
Maybe then I’ll be ready to meet the one I’ve been waiting for. The one who, somewhere out there, might be waiting for me, too.
CHAPTER 2
