“People always talk,” Dad says dismissively. “But you both are adults and can decide for yourselves. What matters most is that you treat each other well.”
I stare at him, this man who’s lectured me about perception and reputation for years, now dismissing potential gossip. “Who are you and what have you done with my father?”
Dad’s lips twitch in what might be the beginning of a smile. “I’m serious, Kaden. As long as you’re both happy and treating each other well, that’s what counts.”
Relief floods through me so powerfully I feel light-headed. I exhale, only now realizing I’ve been holding my breath.Emmett’s hand squeezes mine again, his eyes shining when I glance at him.
“We are,” Emmett assures them. “Happy, I mean.”
“Disgustingly so,” I add, unable to help myself. “He even got me doing dishes regularly.”
“Now that,” Dad says, pointing his fork at me, “is the true miracle here.”
The tension breaks as laughter ripples around the table. Caroline rises, returning moments later with a cherry pie.
“Now,” she says, serving generous slices, “since we’re having honest conversations, there are some practical things we should discuss.”
“Like what?” Emmett asks around a mouthful of pie.
Caroline and Dad exchange another look, this one awkward.
“Like…safety,” Dad begins, clearing his throat. “In your…physical relationship.”
My fork clatters against the plate. “Oh my god. Dad, you already gave me that talk when I was a teenager.”
“But at the time I didn’t know that you’re into…guys.”
“It’s important,” Caroline agrees, her cheeks pinking. “Even though pregnancy isn’t a concern, there are still—”
“I’m not hearing this,” I groan, clapping my hands over my ears. “This isn’t happening.”
Emmett looks equally mortified, his face flushing a deep red. “Mom, please stop. We’re adults. We’ve got it covered.”
“But—” Caroline begins.
“Nope,” I interrupt, hands still over my ears. “Not listening. Can’t hear a word. La la la.”
Dad’s mouth twitches again, amusement breaking through his serious expression. “They seem to have the point, Caroline.”
Caroline sighs, but there’s fond exasperation in it rather than disappointment. “Fine. I just want you both to be safe and healthy.”
“We are,” Emmett promises, still crimson. “Can we please talk about literally anything else now?”
“Of course,” Caroline says, pivoting. “David and I were thinking of redoing the guest house bathroom. What do you two think about subway tiles?”
The conversation flows into safer territory, and my body relaxes for the first time all evening.
I glance around the table—at my dad discussing tile patterns with enthusiasm, at Caroline gesturing animatedly about shower fixtures, at Emmett nodding along while sneaking glances at me when he thinks no one’s watching.
Family. It’s a word that’s always felt complicated to me, loaded with expectations I could never quite meet. But sitting here now, accepted exactly as I am, exactly as we are, I think maybe I’m beginning to understand what it really means.
Epilogue:
Emmett
Four months later
HOT WATER CASCADES DOWN my back as Kade presses me harder against the shower wall, his chest flush against my shoulder blades. My forearms brace against the slick tiles, fingers splayed, trying to find purchase as he drives into me with measured thrusts. Steam swirls around us, fogging the glass door, creating our own private world where nothing exists beyond the points where our bodies connect.
