“That’s all you have to say? He’s a fucking homo and all you have to say is ‘Yes, sir’?” A humorless laugh flew from his mouth and hateful anger glinted in his eyes. My stomach clenched in tight knots. If he was acting this way about Dylan being gay, there was no way in hell I’d ever survive coming out in this house. He was making that crystal clear. Visions of the chaos that my identity would cause swarmed in my brain as he muttered a long string of curses at Dylan.
“Are you listening? I asked you a question, boy.” My father’s hand banded around my upper arm and he shook me violently. Shit, lost in my own head, I hadn’t been paying attention.
“I−I’m sorry,” I stuttered. “What did you say?” The back of his hand connected with my jaw. The force sent me back a few steps and I tasted the metallic tinge of blood in my mouth.
He twisted the collar of my shirt in his hand, pulled my face up to his, and grinned like a mad fool. I stared into his dead eyes, unable to hide the fear. He saw it and just grinned more. He knew he’d won; he won a long time ago. I was a scared little shit when it came to my father and he took advantage of that whenever he could.
“You don’t think it’s okay that he’s queer, do you?” he repeated the question I hadn’t heard before and bile rose in my throat. I only had a split second to say something, any delay would be perceived as going against him. So even though it crushed my heart not to stand up for Dylan, for what we had become – for me, I shook my head. “No, sir. It’s not okay.”
He released my shirt, shoving me back in the process. “Stay away from him, you understand.” I nodded again as shame filled every ounce of my body.
The loud blare of a truck horn shook me out of my memory. I swerved back into my lane, gripping the steering wheel with white-knuckled force. Recalling what happened between my father and me altered me somehow.
In all the years he told me I was useless, a failure, I always held on to some kind of hope that I would be able to do something that would make him change his mind. I could play ball better. I could get better grades. I could be a better son. But his adamant hatred of Dylan simply because he was gay opened my eyes to the brutal truth.
I would never be good enough.
Being with Dylan this weekend also opened my eyes – and my heart – to an even bigger truth.
I was in love with the one person who would change my world forever.
The decision was up to me. Either I let my father win and allowed fear to dominate my life, or I fought back, stood up for Dylan and for myself, and finally broke free.
The sun peeked through the clouds as I pulled off the interstate and the answer became clear. There was no choice to be made. It was Dylan. It had always been him and it always would be him. As I got closer to home, my determination to break away from my family became stronger. For the first time ever, I didn’t feel afraid. I felt renewed and Dylan had given that to me.
Pulling down my block, I punched out a quick text to Dylan, letting him know that I made it home all right and that I’d call him later. I was so excited to tell him that I’d finally built up enough courage to confront my father that I didn’t even see the car parked in front of my house.
I walked through the front door to a sound so foreign, I actually took a second to make sure I was in the right house.
Laughter, loud and booming came from the dining room.
My father laughed? Who knew?
I dropped my bag on the stairs and poked my head into the kitchen. That’s when my world spun on its axis.
It was Alex.
What the hell was she doing here? Why was she talking with my father?
She caught sight of me first, noticing my confused face over my father’s shoulder. Her face lit up into a bright smile. “Hey, Shane.” Her smile got bigger and she walked toward me. Looping her arm through mine, she leaned against my side. A wry smile pulled at her lips as she winked at me. I had no clue what she was up to, but this was by far the warmest reception I’d ever received walking into my own home.
“It’s a shame I had to meet your girlfriend like this.” My father stared at me before clapping me on the shoulder as he walked to my other side.
Girlfriend?
My ears had to be playing tricks on me because there was absolutely no way Alex was my girlfriend. That didn’t stop her from stretching up on her tiptoes and popping a kiss on my cheek. Was she delusional?
“I’ll let you two catch up. I have an afternoon meeting I need to get to. Lucky for Alex here I had to stop home and grab something. Otherwise, that poor girl would just be sitting out there waiting for you, Shane.” His glare returned, but he actually beamed at Alex.
“Have a nice day at work, Mr. Connely.” Alex waved at my father as he walked past us and out the front door.
As soon as I heard his car door slam shut, I pulled my arm away from hers. “What the hell?”
She stood there, hands on her hips, looking at me like I’d just slapped her. I brushed by her and into the living room. Flopping back onto the couch with a loud sigh, I interlaced my fingers together behind my head. As she sat next to me, she had enough sense to wipe away the smug look from a minute ago. She actually looked sorry.
“You told him you were my girlfriend?” I turned to face her, frustration making my body rigid and tense. “We had coffee. Once. Ineversaid anything about dating you.”
She dropped her hand to my thigh. “It was good coffee, though. Wasn’t it?” Her laughter was soft at first, but it soon became infectious. Laughing at the ridiculousness of the whole situation, I let myself go. I’d just gotten home from a secret weekend getaway with my boyfriend to walk into a home I hate, a fake girlfriend waiting inside.
