“You know he’s going to make good on that threat,” Theo says finally, his voice low but steady.
I pull back enough to look at him, at the face that’s somehow become the center of my world.
“I know.” My jaw sets. “But I’m not going back. Not now.”
“What happens now?” Theo asks, his fingers still tracing patterns on my back.
I exhale slowly, trying to organize my thoughts. “I don’t know. Damage control, I guess. Call my sponsors before Dawson does.”
“Or...” Theo shifts to face me, those dark eyes of his locked on mine. “We could just go all in.”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean we go public. Completely public.” His voice grows animated, hands gesturing as he speaks. “Instagram, interviews, showing up together at events. No hiding, no shame, just us.”
My stomach drops. The thought of that kind of exposure makes my skin crawl. “Theo?—”
“Think about it, Victor. If we control the narrative, Dawson can’t use it against you.”
“I just came out to my core team today. I need time before I’m ready for the whole world.” I stand up, needing to move. “This isn’t easy for me. It’s not like flipping a switch.”
Theo watches me pace, his expression unreadable. “So what’s your plan? Wait for Dawson to force your hand? Let him out you to your sponsors, your fighters, the press?”
“No, I?—”
“Because he will. You know he will.” Theo leans forward, elbows on his knees. “So what would you rather? Have Dawson drag you out kicking and screaming, or stand up first and show the world you’ve nothing to be afraid of?”
His words hit like a body blow. “I’m not ashamed.”
“Aren’t you?” His voice is gentle despite the challenge in his words. “Because from where I’m sitting, that’s what it looks like when you panic at the thought of people knowing about us.”
I stop pacing, staring down at him. “It’s not shame. It’s...” I struggle to find the words, to articulate the storm inside me. “Everything I built, I built as Victor Kaine, the straight, tough-as-nails fighter. That’s who people invested in, that’s who fighters come to train with.”
“And you think that changes based on who you choose to be with? Something, mind you, that has fuck all to do with your proven skill as a fighter or trainer?”
“In this world?” I laugh, the sound hollow. “Yeah, it might.”
Theo reaches across the space between us, taking my hand. The simple gesture centers me, pulling me back from the edge of panic.
“Victor, listen to me.” His voice drops, becomes softer. “I’ve never felt about anyone the way I feel about you. Not once in my life.”
Something shifts in my chest at his words—a tightening that’s almost painful.
“I’m all in here. Have been for months.” He squeezes my hand. “But we don’t need to do anything crazy to control this narrative.”
“What are you suggesting?” I ask, sitting back down beside him.
“Let’s just have a public date. A normal dinner at a restaurant we both like. Not some hidden corner table—a visible spot where people might recognize us.” Theo’s eyes never leave mine. “No press conference announcing you’re bisexual. No Instagram post declaring your coming out. Just us, being us, in public.”
“You think that’s enough?”
“The point isn’t to make a statement. It’s admission without drawing attention to it.” His thumb traces circles on my palm. “We act like there’s nothing unusual about it—because there isn’t. Two people who care about each other, having dinner.”
I consider his words. There’s a simplicity to it that appeals to me. No grand gestures, no dramatic announcements. Just stepping into the light instead of hiding in the shadows.
“We don’t need to wear rainbow flags or make out across the table,” he adds with a small smile. “Just be seen together. Hold my hand if you want. The rest will follow naturally.”
I feel myself nodding before I’ve consciously decided. “Okay.”
