David was the first to move, rubbing his palms slowly along his thighs. “Listen,” he said, pushing to his feet. “The invitation from this morning still stands. Dinner with me and Marius, and you and your … best friend.”
He let the lie I’d told this morning hang there between us.
I looked at my hands again, then back at David. “My boyfriend,” I admitted quietly. “He’s … um … he’s not out either. He had plans to come out this sea—” I caught myself and course corrected. “This year. But being with me has complicated things. And Ihatethat. I hate that I’ve pulled him further into the closet when he was ready to step out of it.”
A quiet sadness settled into the lines around David’s eyes. “Sounds like you’ve got a lot to work through.”
I huffed out a small, ironic laugh. If he only knew the half of it.
“If you ever want to talk,” he continued, “I’m here.” He moved toward the door, then paused with his hand on the knob. “And I mean that. Not just as a colleague.”
“I know. Thank you, David.”
He opened the door, stopping one final time. "And for what it’s worth? The fact that you could say those words to me today tells me you’re probably closer than you think.”
Fuck. I wanted to be.
For myself, and for Taylor, too.
But I honestly didn’t know if I’d ever get there.
I’d spent my entire adolescence and adulthood trying desperately to keep my sexuality a secret, and I couldn’t remember why. My family was certainly one factor. But what was I really protecting there? Either they’d accept me or they wouldn’t.
You know who you’re protecting.
Wyatt Fucking Hastings.
It always came back to him, didn’t it?
Wyatt and I were inextricably linked. His success was my success and vice versa. I’d been by his side every step of the way, working tirelessly to get him to where he was today. Every choice I’d ever made was done in the service of furthering his agenda.
He’d needed to be straight-presenting, so I’d hidden my own sexuality. And that hiding had become so ingrained in me that I never stopped to question if it was what I really wanted.
It just was.
I was in the closet.
I couldn’t have a boyfriend.
I couldn’t be out.
Except … maybe I could?
Maybe, for once in my life, I could choose me.
WhatIwanted.
WhoI wanted.
Could I?
CHAPTER 24
SEBASTIAN
I hadthree missed texts from Taylor. The first had arrived about ten minutes into the meeting.
Taylor
