Page 89 of Addiction

I know what he's doing. I may have accepted that I'm attracted to men—to Wade—but I'm yet to speak freely about my hidden truths. He wants me to accept it. He wants me to live it. But unexpectedly, the tightness in my chest that had begun to ease is back. Because saying it isn’t the same as fully accepting it. Even though I thought I had, the anxiety building inside me now tells me otherwise. My friend here knows me better than I know myself.

"Gray–"

“Fucking say it!”

“I’m gay!”

“Again!”

“I’m gay!” I roar. “I’m gay. I’m fucking gay!”

It rolls off my tongue without so much as a stutter as my lungs burst with a cocktail of emotions. Above all of them, I’m thankful. I’m thankful to have my friend not turn his back on me. I’m thankful for his love and support as I cling to him like a young, lost boy as I allow all the years of secrecy to leave my body as tears while in the protection of Grayson’s arms.

And more than anything, I’m thankful because, for the first time in my life, I feel free.

* * *

"It's nothing to be ashamed of, you know," Grayson says. "Being gay doesn’t change who you are as a person."

"I know. But not feeling shame is easier said than done. For a long time, I’ve been in denial—knowing I’m gay but too scared to embrace it so I pushed it away instead. Being a navy SEAL gave me purpose. I had responsibilities. A duty. Coming out as gay back then would have been wrong."

"Society has made you think that."

"Society is cruel and unforgiving. I felt if I spoke out about how I was feeling, it would jeopardize everything I’d worked so hard for. So, I stayed silent." I say. "Wyatt made it look so damn easy, but I wasn’t in the same head space as he was."

“Did you have feelings for him?” Grayson asks. We’ve moved from the kitchen and into the living room for comfort. He’s on the opposite couch, and my nerves have settled somewhat after my admission. There’s still the underlying craving of wanting a drink, but I’m trying to fight it. I have to. One slip-up was one too many, and I hate myself for giving in after I’ve worked so damn hard.

“I did. At first, I didn’t want to believe that I did. But over time, I found myself gravitating toward him more. The night before he died, we got close. He asked me to kiss him, and it was at that moment that I realized I wanted to do that more than anything. Which is why I was distracted when on the mission. He got into my head so much that all I could think of was him. I’d wanted to know how he knew and why I felt so ashamed but more importantly, how he’d had the power to draw me to him as strongly as he did. But I never got that chance.”

“So, you’ve just hidden it all this time?”

“I didn’t know what else to do.” I sigh. “At the time, it was easier to remain silent. A naïve part of me had thought that if I didn’t confess, it would go away. I knew in my head what I was, who I am, but it was also impossible to tell anyone when I couldn’t get the words out. I fucked around with women with the belief that they would be my answer, but when that didn’t work—”

“You turned to drink.”

“Yes.”

“Jesus, Asher.” He sighs, running his hand at the nape of his neck.

“My world got dark and lonely very quickly and, in the beginning, the drink helped soothe that ache inside. Until that ache became too overwhelming. The more I drank the deeper I fell.”

“So, all that time you were drinking was because of your sexuality and not your dad?”

“It started because of that. Pop just became an easier excuse to use when people asked questions. Eventually, I wasn’t drinking because of one issue, I was drinking because of several.”

He studies me for a second. “And tonight? What's changed to make you relapse? Is it because you've been trying to hide it that made you go back?"

I shake my head. "Not exactly."

"Then what?"

"Wade," I admit. "Getting close to him has opened the doors to so many feelings—ones I don’t want to ignore but can’t seem to act on. It’s triggered what happened in Iraq, which has made my head spin, and I don’t know if that’s because of my PTSD or because I’ve recognized the fact that what I felt for Wyatt, I now feel for Wade."

"You like him."

I look at him. "So much."

“Does he know?”