Page 323 of Mad Girl

“But you said I could have whatever I want,” I said, “and what I want right now is to talk to Michael alone. We’re in the middle of something.”

Nic shot me a hard look. “That was before you started self-destructing again. Downstairs. Now.”

“Sure,” I said. “Right after you tell us the real reason we can’t be left alone together.”

“Elliot,” John said, “you two—the history you have—you’re not healthy for each other.”

“By history, you mean the stabbing.”

“The stabbing’s part of it, yes.”

“You said it wasn’t, though. When you stopped us from being together, you claimed the stabbing wasn’t a reason.”

John hesitated. “I stopped you from being together because you ask him for pain, and he gives it to you—that’s the reason.”

My heart spiked. “How do you⁠—?”

“He’s my son,” John said. “I know his habits.”

Seemed kinda weird to know his sexual habits, but whatever. Michael shifted uncomfortably beside me, so I guess it was weird for him, too.

“So he gave me a little pain. What’s the big deal?”

“But at what point would it have been enough?” Nic asked, hands causally stuffed inside his pockets. “How far would you have asked him to go? How badly would he have needed to hurt you before you could finally forgive yourself for something that happened eleven years ago?”

I dropped my gaze to the bed, cheeks burning with shame.

“You know what’s not healthy, Dad?” Michael said. “All the lying that goes on in this family. Whatever you and Mom have going on with Nic. The way you hid that from us.”

“We didn’t exactly…hide it,” John said. “Not from you kids.”

“Well, you sure as hell never talked to us about it. Elliot outed you months ago, and we still haven’t talked about it.”

“Fine,” John agreed. “What would you like to know?”

“How long?” asked Michael.

“Since Elliot’s mom left. Before that, actually. It started the summer before college.”

“Okay,” Nic said with a grimace, his hand slicing through the air. “We don’t need to get into the details.”

John gave him a look. “If they have questions, Nic, we should answer them.”

My dad looked like he’d rather have a tooth pulled than discuss this topic. Was it any wonder, Casey, that I had trouble talking about the mushy stuff, too?

Michael squinted at our dads. “So is Nic, like, your boyfriend, Dad? Or just Mom’s?”

“He’s ours,” John said. “If we could claim him in public, we would.”

“Oh my God,” I said, clutching my stomach. “This is weird. This is…I don’t think I can talk about this, either.”

“Then let’s all go downstairs,” Nic said, “where we can not talk about it.”

You should’ve seen the way John smiled at my dad, Casey. It was the smile you give someone when you find their actions both familiar and adorable, and you love them all the more for it. And while I could definitely appreciate that about them, it also made me want to vomit a little.

“You love my dad, Nic?” Michael asked.

On this topic, Nic didn’t hesitate. “Yes, Michael. I love your dad.”