“Yeah.” Étienne pulled out his phone and texted the photo to Wesley. A pic we’d taken last week in front of the Christmas tree—cheek-to-cheek, smiling into the camera. Happy. Real. Us.
“Perfect. And the statement?”
“It’s just a caption, really.” I read it aloud. “We’re in love.Grateful for the support of our team, our organization, and everyone standing with us.”
“Mine is the same,” Étienne said.
“That’s good. Simple but effective.” Wesley’s voice was warm. “You’re going to post at three, to coincide with the news cycle?”
“That’s the plan.”
“Okay. Griffin and I will be ready to post our support immediately. But one more thing—and this is important. Don’t read the comments after you post.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Don’t read them,” he repeated. “Some will be supportive. A lot will be, actually. But some will be cruel. Vicious. People will say things designed to hurt you, to make you question your decision.” He paused. “You don’t need to see that. Not right after coming out. Not when you’re already vulnerable.”
“Thanks, Wesley.”
At 2:45, Étienne’s phone buzzed with a text from Griffin.
Griffin
Ready when you are. We’re with you.
At 2:50, my phone chimed. Gia.
Gia
I love you. So proud of you. Post when you’re ready. I’ll be here.
At 2:55, we sat on the couch, phones in hand. The drafts were ready.
All we had to do was hit post.
“Ready?” Étienne asked.
“Two minutes. We post at the same time.”
“Okay.”
I opened social media and pulled up the draft. The photostared back at me—us, happy, in love, real. The caption sat beside it, simple and honest.
This was it.
This was the moment where everything changed.
My thumb hovered over the button.
One tap and everyone would know. Family, friends, fans, strangers. Everyone.
Beside me, Étienne’s finger was poised over his own screen.
I looked at the clock on my phone: 2:59. Then 3:00.
We tapped simultaneously.
CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE
