“Maybe. Yeah. I guess so. My father…” I didn’t know if I could say what I needed to without losing my shit over his infidelity. Maybe it was all tied up together—his reluctant acceptance of me, his infidelity…I didn’t know. That hot weight pressing against my chest cooled somewhat and lifted. Then Presley took my hand in his and squeezed it tight. The bands around me loosened, and I could breathe freely.
“I let him control me in life and even in death. Growing up, I idolized my father and wanted to be like him. I worked hard in school to make him proud of me.”
“And was he?”
“I think so. I made Law Review, graduated top of my class, and yet I still thought I had to be better.”
“Because you’re gay?”
I nodded. “I wanted to show him I wasn’t going to be a liability to him or the firm. I always volunteered to take on the most difficult cases, to prove he could count on me.” I’d worked my ass off during those early years, poring over documents that had me seeing double by the end of the night. I’d fall into bed for a few hours and start all over again. Ethan, my brother, never let a day pass without telling me what a great job I did, but my father reserved judgment until the final outcome.
“And did he acknowledge all that you did?”
My heart twisted painfully. “Not really. I rarely heard a word of praise.”
Presley rubbed his thumb over my hand.
“That’s terrible. A parent should always encourage their child,” Leo, the widower, broke in.
“Did you ever confront him about your feelings? Show him everything you accomplished?” In his quiet way, Monroe gave me the courage to open up layers I’d glued together.
“N-no. I couldn’t.”
“Why not?”
Sweat trickled down the nape of my neck. “I guess I was afraid of hearing what he really thought. Once spoken, words can’t be taken back.”
“I don’t agree. People can change. The world is made up of shades of gray, not black and white,” Gina, a woman who’d lost her husband to cancer the year before, spoke softly.
Maybe so, but how do you forget the pain of those spoken words? Because I remembered.…I’d taken the bar and the results were due any day. Of course I was nervous and couldn’t sleep, so I’d wandered downstairs to rummage in the kitchen for something to eat. My parents were sitting around the big kitchen island, and I stopped outside the doorway when I heard my father mention my name.
“Sure, Nate’s smart. But you need more than a brain to succeed, and I’m not sure he’s got it in him to be a good lawyer. Is he tough enough? I don’t know. Not now.”
Devastated, I’d retreated, vowing to work twice as hard as everyone else at the firm. If he wanted tough, I’d show him.
“I kept my private life from him, basically hiding who I was, to prove I could be that hard-ass he wanted. But in doing so, I cheated myself.”
“Because you stayed in the shadows about your sexuality?” Presley asked.
“Yeah. Even the relationship I had with someone…we dated for three years, but my father never met him. My mother and brother did, but I didn’t want to rock the boat with him. Looking back, I wasn’t fair to Carson, since I only gave him a part of my life.”
And while I was worried about my father accepting my lover, he sent a torpedo into our family and blew us up.
“I don’t think I can talk about this anymore.”
Monroe searched my face. “I understand. But I hope you feel a little better having unburdened yourself. And that you know you’re worthy of love and respect. When you hide from negative judgment, you hide from yourself and create negative self-worth. I hope this group can help bring you some positivity and lighten the heavy weight you’ve placed on yourself.”
I’d never been that much into spirituality, but what Monroe said made sense. I wished I could believe it for myself, though.
After the meeting, Presley and I went to the corner coffee shop. It had become our little after-meeting hangout space, and Roberta, one of the waitresses, greeted us when we walked inside.
“Hi, you two. Your booth is waiting. I’ll bring the coffee in a sec.”
“No problem.” I shed my coat in the glorious warmth and peered at the dessert display still lit up with left-over Christmas lights draped down the front of the glass. “Ooh, that strawberry shortcake looks good.”
Presley laughed at me. “You have such a sweet tooth. How do you stay in shape?” Those dark eyes roamed over me. “You must work out to keep off all the calories.”
We slid into our booth, and I picked up the scent of his lemony aftershave and warm skin. “I’ve been having very dirty dreams. I guess all this restraint from keeping my hands off you creates nervous energy and burns off the calories.”
