“No, you don’t, David,” he cried. “You don’t know how I feel, because if you knew, then you’d know that I fucking loved you and that I would have been there for you while you worked your stuff out. But you know what? I’m better than being a secret, and I don’t want to lie to the only family I have left.
“More than anything, I am not going to be cast aside and my role in your life stomped on so you can keep your secret.”
He wiped the tears in his eyes and turned around so he was no longer facing me.
“Say what you want to say and then leave. I’m going home soon and have stuff to do.”
Home. He was going home to New York because that’s where his home was. Not here with his grandparents or with me.
“I... I just wanted to ask that you come back. Your grandparents talked about you all the time. They missed you growing up. If you don’t want to see me ever again, I understand... but please come back for them. If you want, I can go away when you come back so you don’t have to see me but, please—”
“Okay.” That’s all he said, and I’d have to take it. It was also goodbye.
When I got back to my apartment, the front door was ajar. I walked in thinking I’d been so focused on getting to Joel I’d forgotten to close the door, but then I found my aunt and uncle both sitting in the living room.
My aunt came to me as soon as I walked in and put her arms around me. I didn’t think it was possible to cry any more than I already had in the last few days, but I was wrong because as soon as I felt her embrace and smelled her perfume, I broke down.
“Tia...”
“Sweetheart, what’s going on? You’re worrying us.”
“I... I...” I couldn’t even say it. I was so scared. I’d lost my mom, and I’d lost Joel, I couldn’t lose my aunt and uncle too.
“Come take a seat. I’ll get you some water.”
I sat down, facing my uncle. He looked worried and regretful, not something I was expecting to see.
My aunt came back with a glass of water, which I drank down in almost one gulp. I suddenly felt guilty that I hadn’t looked after myself and was now worrying my family.
“David,” my aunt said, “you know you’re more than a nephew to us, don’t you? You have been my son since the day you were born, more so since your mom left us.”
I looked at my uncle, and there was a small smile on his lips. He nodded. Once upon a time, he’d treated me as a son, and I’d looked up to him as a father. I wondered if there was anything of that relationship left.
“Tia, Tio,” I addressed both of them. I knew there was only one thing I could do. Take the last shred of hope I had and grab it. Tell them the truth. They deserved to know.
“I’m gay.” My eyes flickered between both. My uncle froze. My aunt covered her mouth with her hands and let out a sound I wasn’t sure was a sob or something else.
I couldn’t see through all the tears in my eyes. I was so fucking tired of crying.
I couldn’t face them anymore, so I looked down and covered my face with my hands. I felt a shift on the sofa next to me and then a small body holding me from my left. Seconds later, I felt a larger body holding me to my right.
The three of us stayed locked in our embrace for a long time.
I was going to speak, but my uncle spoke first.
“I’m sorry, son.” He pulled back and was looking at me with tears in his eyes. “I’ve done despicable things. I’ve treated you in ways you didn’t deserve, but it wasn’t because I didn’t love you. Quite the opposite. It was because I loved you.”
“What?” I shouted, suddenly feeling quite angry. “You’ve called me a barrage of names, you threatened me, and—”
My aunt interrupted me by putting her hands on mine.
“David, your uncle has a few things to say. He may not deserve that you hear them, but I am asking you that you do.”
I looked at my uncle again and nodded for him to continue.
“Some things happened before you were born, David. I’m going to tell you about them. I had all intentions of taking them to the grave with me, but... recently I’ve thought that maybe that is the wrong thing to do.
I was born in Porto and had a younger brother, Vítor. My parents moved us all to this area when I was fourteen because my father had a job in construction. He was a hard man, very traditional, and the only way he knew to discipline us when we did something wrong was with a cane.”
