Evan called what we did a mistake, but solely just because of the inference that he’s moving on from Miranda. He rutted into me like a feral animal in heat down at the lake, and then is up here now bellowing about how he’s not gay. Much like Colton is too nervous to come out to his father, Evan is too afraid to admitto himselfthat he’s attracted to men.
“Evan,” I call out to him, catching him at my door before he can bolt again.
“What?” he hisses.
“Can you just sit, so we can talk?”
He shakes his head. “There’s nothing to talk about.”
“Yes, there absolutely is. Sit.”
“Brooks—” he starts, but I cut him off.
“Come. Sit,” I grit out, practically hauling him into my living room-office and sitting him across from me. I fear that trying to siton the couch together may just push him too far. He huffs, but then plops into the armchair across from me.
“I told you, I’m not gay and that’s that. Not every feeling needs to be psycho-fucking-analyzed by an expert,” he states.
“Liar,” I tell him coolly, assuredly. “Lots of things can be talked out, so that you get a better understanding of yourself. Lots of people see professionals for help, whether they admit it or not. Evan, don’t lie to me, is what we had out there all a figment of my imagination?” I gesture out to the lake.
He rolls his eyes after a couple moments of tense silence. “Obviously not,” he finally huffs, as if someone was holding a knife to his throat.
“Well then, what was it? Please tell me. What was it?”
He folds his arms over his chest, like an oddly bearded, muscle-bound toddler holding a tantrum.
“I’ll tell you what it was from the way I saw it. You begged me to give in and kiss you. You begged me, Evan. Now, when did you first realize that you were attracted to men?”
“I’m not,” he grunts. “If that’s your thing, that’s fine. I’ve got no problem with that, but—”
“You…begged… me.”
He stands again, spinning away from me and running his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. “In middle school, alright?! I realized I was attracted to guys in fucking middle school!”
I stand, allowing myself to take a couple of tentative steps towards him, but not too close. He reminds me of a wild animal, heaving breaths and spitting mad. I’ve pushed his buttons, for sure, but he’s also finally talking.
“Okay,” I say calmly, “but this, tonight, was this the first time you ever took that anywhere?”
He nods. It’s super subtle, but I catch it. Then he sighs heavily.
“There’s something about you, though…” he murmurs, voice cracking, losing the hard edge. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you since I’ve been here. I can’t just lock up these feelings and toss the key into the drink, like I’ve always been able to. I can’t even be near you, and it’storturingme.”
“So, wait—Colton’s almost seventeen, and you’re in your early thirties,” I say, quickly doing the calculations—which lands him in junior year of high school when he got Colton’s mother pregnant.
The insinuation I made must be made of crystal. “I started dating Miranda, because I felt like dating girls was what was right, not because I was particularly attracted to them,” he explains, gazing out the window at the moon dancing on the rippling water. “I stuck with her when I found out she got pregnant. I married her, on both our father’s insistence that I do right by her and Colton.”
“And you honored that, until death do you part,” I guess.
He nods, aggressively swiping at his cheeks, from what I can see in his reflection.
“You’ve kept that secret about yourself for a long time, Evan.”
A secret, I’ve noticed, he still can’t bring himself to admit aloud.
“I’ve got to keep it a secret as well,” he insists. “My son already hates me enough as it is. I refuse to make it worse. As it stands, Colt already seems to have carried on some of her resentment and bitterness towards me. He doesn’t even know that Miranda was going to leave me if I couldn’t fix things between her and me...”
“What did she feel needed fixing?” I ask him.
“Everything,” he sighs, finally spinning to face me. “She told me I was vacant, that I lacked depth, that I didn’t connect with her on a deeper level, I showed no emotion, was too cold with her… the list goes on and on. The real kick to the manhood was that I was a lousy, boring lay, but damn it if she wasn’t right.
