Did he accept it?
Or turn a blind eye?
My heart hammered as I sat opposite him.
“It’s been a while, Robbie.How are you finding things these days?”
There were so many ways I could have answered.
I could have lied.
Said I was okay.
Said everything was fine.
But I owed it to myself to be honest.
“It’s not been easy,” I said.“Not with Mum slipping away.Or Dave acting like a man-child.But...my boyfriend has been amazing.”
I watched him closely.
Waiting for the flinch.
The raised eyebrow.
The awkward cough.
Nothing.
He just sipped his tea, as if I hadn’t dropped the mother of all truth bombs.
“You know your dad would be so proud,” he said.“Not just of how you’re holding the family together.But because you’ve been standing up for yourself.That’s all Rick ever wanted.For you to be yourself.”
“Did you know about him?”I asked quietly.“About the men?”
Chris nodded slowly.
“I grew up with your dad.Known him since we were knee-high to a grasshopper.We were latchkey kids — there wasn’t much we didn’t get up to.Rick tried to deny that part of himself.He loved you and your brother.Never doubt that.And Sheila — your mum — he adored her.But the eighties...”He shook his head.“Being into men back then?It wasn’t safe.Queer-bashing wasn’t rare.People thought you could catch AIDS from breathing the same air.Being seen as straight made life simpler.”
Of all the things I expected him to say, this wasn’t it.
“Your dad was a complicated man, and my best friend.And he was in awe of you.Of your strength.Of your writing.That it was a gay story?Well...that was a bonus.He raised you to be better.To accept a part of him he couldn’t.”
I took a sip of my tea.
It was cold.
I didn’t care.
I needed a moment to breathe.
To process.
To let the truth settle.
Chris leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.
“He’d be proud of you, Robbie.Not because you’re following in his footsteps.But because you’re walking your own path.Openly.Honestly.He wanted that for you more than anything.”
