“I think we’ll leave it there for today,” Nancy says. “And maybe in the next session, we can discuss how your family feels after hearing all of this today.”
CHAPTER FORTY-ONE
Kent
“I reserved a table for all of you in the dining hall for seven,” Nancy explains. “And you are welcome to avail of the other facilities. All I ask is that you keep the conversation casual. Kent has been making amazing progress, and just getting to hang out with his family, with no pressure or expectations, will help him enormously.”
My parents shake her hand as Keven approaches me. He pulls me into a hug. “I’m glad you are getting better. I do need to talk to you, but it can wait until later. I know you need to speak to Keats.” He must have an update for me on the FBI situation, and it’s been on my mind. I still don’t know if they plan to pin an assault charge on me. I can kiss Harvard Law goodbye if that happens.
Mom, Dad, Kalvin, and Kyler take turns hugging me, and I arrange to meet my brothers in an hour for a game of basketball. Kade lingers, looking unsure. I jerk my head in acknowledgment, folding my arms across my chest, because I don’t want him touching me. He can’t just throw out words, no matter how heartfelt they are, and expect everything to be peachy. He has hurt me a lot. More than my other brothers. He has been so cold and ignorant at times, especially in recent years, and it’s not something I can get over just like that.
“Can you stay too?” I ask Keanu because I think he needs to hear this as well.
“Of course.” He squeezes my shoulder before dropping onto a chair.
Nancy stays in the room with me, Keanu, and Keats, but she tucks herself away in the corner, pulling her notepad out and jotting more notes down.
“I want to try to explain,” I tell Keats when he sits down beside me. “I know I hurt you and Austen, and I feel bad about it. I’ve always felt bad about it, but you coming out was a trigger for me. I have hated gay men since I was raped. Anytime I saw two guys together, it reminded me of the attack and it enraged me. It sounds silly, and it’s so fucking unfair, but they became synonymous in my mind.”
“Did you ever question your sexuality?” Keats quietly asks, his face radiating compassion.
My stomach twists into knots as I nod. “Did they tell you what Clay did to me?” I’m too emotionally drained right now to say it out loud, and it’s the part I’m most ashamed of.
Tears flood his eyes as he seethes. “I want to gut that fucking bastard and hang him by his entrails from the roof.”
Keanu nods in agreement, his nostrils flaring as anger shines in his eyes.
Nancy lifts her head, her brow puckering in concern.
“Careful or Nancy will book you a room in here beside me,” I tease Keats.
Keanu’s lips twitch, and Keats swats his tears away.
“I was very confused for a while, and I was terrified it meant I was gay. Fucking lots of women helped, because I loved sex—with girls—and it helped me feel more in control, but there was always this niggling doubt at the back of my mind.”
“Did you ever experiment with any guys?” Keanu asks, his face curious.
“Hell no. I might’ve been confused, but the thoughts of letting any guy touch me made my skin crawl.” Too late, I remember my other brother. I wince a little as I eyeball Keaton. “No offense meant.”
“None taken,” Keats says, offering me a reassuring smile. “Did me coming out bring it to the surface again?” He chews on the corner of his lip.
I shake my head. “Not in that way, no. It brought everything else about the attack to the surface at a time when I had felt like I was finally getting a grip on it.” I look at Keanu. “Selena moving in with us helped me a lot. I saw how brave and strong she was, and she inspired me to clean up my act and try harder. I almost confided in her so many times.”
“Why didn’t you?” Keanu asks.
I shrug. “I convinced myself it was too late. Too much time had passed and I was doing better. Not drinking or smoking or popping pills as much. I graduated and got into Harvard Law. I told myself dredging up the past would do no one any good after this long.”
“You can’t bury that shit. It eats away at you until you explode,” Keats says. “Our circumstances were vastly different, but I was a ticking time bomb for years.”
“I’m sorry for how I treated you and Austen. It wasn’t personal. Itisn’tpersonal. It’s all tied up with the shit in my head. It enraged me you were gay and I hadn’t seen it. Every time I saw you with him, it made my blood boil. It dragged up a lot of old feelings, and the flashbacks and nightmares were more recurring. I started floundering.”
“I hate that,” Keats says.
“It’s not your fault.”
“It’s not yours either,” Keanu says.
“I said some really nasty things to you, Keats, and I hate myself for that,” I admit. “I should never have slept with Melissa either, but I’m glad it helped to uncover her motives.” He nods, and I know, deep down, that was the least of the issues between us. “I have never hated you, and I’m happy you’re happy. Austen seems like a great guy, and I’m just sorry I ruined any chance of a relationship with him.” I’ve seen the way Keaton’s husband looks at me, and I don’t blame him. I would want to kill anyone who treated Presley with such disdain and disrespect.
