When I pushopen the front door, the smell hits first—beer, sharp and sour, cutting through the faint trace of his aftershave. He’s in the kitchen, sleeves of his flannel rolled up, an open bottle sweating on the counter. It’s not even eleven a.m.
He doesn’t look up. Doesn’t say a word.
“Dad?”
Nothing. Just the sound of the clock ticking and the overwhelming weight of silence.
I haven’t seen him drink this early since Mom left. Back then, I didn’t understand what it meant—just that he stopped smiling for a while. By the time I hit junior high, he’d pieced himself back together. But now? Finding out he’s got a gay son has driven him to crack open a beer before lunch?
He finally looks up, eyes glassy—but not from tears.
“Didn’t think you’d actually come,” he says.
“Why not?”
He shrugs and takes a swig from his bottle, wiping hismouth with the back of his hand. “You didn’t answer the phone.”
“I wasn’t sure what to say.”
He nods absently, his gaze still not meeting mine. “I was young once, you know. And this will pass. It’s not worth throwing your future away for.”
My heart lodges in my throat, cracking wide open at his words. I don’t want to hear why he thinks it’s throwing my future away—his small jokes over the years already told me how he feels about it. Still, I clear my throat and manage, “My future?”
“Hockey, obviously. The NHL. They don’t want a gay defenseman. They want a man who isn’t going to lust after the other players in the locker room.”
I roll my lips between my teeth, emotions welling up inside me—anger, heartbreak, disbelief—all mixing together until it’s hard to breathe. Hearing my dad say I’m not good enough as I am, realizing his love comes with conditions, hurts more than I thought anything could.
“I’m not attracted to every naked guy I see.”
He scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me, son. That picture sure says otherwise.”
My stomach twists, heat crawling up my neck. “You think that’s what this is about? You think I kissed him because I can’t control myself? That I’m some horny college kid?”
“I think you’ve forgotten what matters.” His tone sharpens. “You’ve worked your whole damn life for this, and now you’re letting one mistake define you.”
“It wasn’t a mistake!” The shout rips out of me before I can stop it. “It was real. I care about him. I love him.”
Dad’s eyes flash. “You’re confusing lust with something else. That boy probably saw an opening and took it.”
“An opening?” I can feel my pulse in my temples. “He didn’ttakeanything! You really think I’d just let someone use me like that?”
He slams his bottle down on the counter, beer spilling over his fingers. “You’re damn right I do! Because I raised you better than this. You don’t throw away everything you’ve worked for over a phase.”
“It’s not a phase,” I bite out. “It’s me. It’swho I am.”
He laughs under his breath, but it’s bitter, empty. “Christ, Todd. You sound just like your mother—always chasing something that’ll destroy you. Treating your real life like an inconvenience.”
The mention of her name feels as if he’s slapped me. “Don’t bring her into this.”
“I will if I damn well please.” He gestures toward me, his voice rising. “You think she’d want this for you? You think this—” he waves vaguely, “—is what we fought for all those years? To have people pointing and whispering about my son?”
My vision blurs with hot tears I refuse to let fall. “You care more about what people think than you do about me.”
“That’s not true. I care about you, about your future.”
“Isn’t it?” My voice cracks. “Because every time you say you love me, there’s always a ‘but’ after it. ‘I love you, but.’ ‘I love you, except.’ ‘I love you, just not like this.’”
He looks away, jaw tight. “You don’t understand. I’m trying to protect you.”
