"Talk to me," I said.
He pulled back enough to look at me. His eyes were red. He'd been crying.
"I told them." His voice was hoarse. "About being gay. About Elizabeth. Everything."
"And?"
"My mom cried a lot. She kept apologizing for not seeing it, for not making it easier to talk to her." He took a shaky breath. "But my dad—he just sat there. Silent. And then he exploded."
My stomach dropped. "About you being gay?"
"About disappearing. About not calling. About what I put them through." He laughed, but it sounded broken. "He said theythought I was dead. That every time the phone rang, he braced himself for the police telling him they'd found a body. He was so angry, Vance. I've never seen him like that."
I pulled him closer. Held on.
"He said I ran away like a child. That I didn't think about what it would do to them." Tobias's voice cracked. "And he's right. I didn't."
"What about... the gay thing?"
"That came after the yelling. When he finally stopped, he just said, 'So you ran because you're gay' like he was trying to make sense of it." Tobias pulled back, met my eyes. "He said he doesn't understand it. That he needs time. But he also said I'm his son. That nothing I could have told him would have been worse than not knowing if I was alive."
"That's something."
"Is it?" His voice cracked. "He could barely look at me afterward. I don't think he knows how to handle any of it—the gay thing, or the fact that I kept it from them for so long."
"But he didn't reject you."
"No." Tobias wiped his eyes. "He didn't reject me."
I cupped his face in my hands. "You did it. You told them."
"I did." A fragile smile. "It wasn't what I expected. It wasn't some beautiful acceptance moment. But they know now. They know who I am."
"That's everything."
"It doesn't feel complete." He leaned into my touch. "It feels like the start of something really difficult."
"Beginnings usually are."
We settled on the couch, Tobias curled against my side, filling in the details.
How his mother had held him while she cried. How his father had paced, yelled, and then gone silent at the window. The awkward goodbye—a handshake instead of a hug, his father's voice cracking when he said, "Don't ever disappear like that again."
"Tristan thinks he'll come around," Tobias said. "That the anger was really fear, and once he processes everything, he'll be fine."
"What do you think?"
"I think my father has never had to accept anything outside his worldview." He shrugged. "I don't know if he can change. But at least now he has the chance to try."
I pressed a kiss to his hair.
"I told them about you," he said.
I froze.
"Not your name. Not where we are. Just that I've been staying with someone who helped me. Someone I care about." He tilted his head to look at me. "My mom wants to meet you. Someday."
"Your mom wants to meet me."
