We don’t say anything for a long time. Waiting, hoping that maybe Nate will come back inside, that things will be okay.
Finally, Iris stands up and follows him outside.
The back door opens and closes again, leaving Mike and me at the kitchen table with half-eaten burgers and the shallow, too-fast breathing I think is coming from me. “He hates me,” I say, my voice cracking on the words.
Mike turns toward me, shaking his head. “He doesn’t hate you.”
“You saw him. He didn’t even say anything. God, I knew this would happen. Fuck.” I hide my face in my hands because the tears are already coming, and I’m so tired of crying.
“Alex.” Mike’s voice doesn’t waver. “He’s just processing. Give him some time.”
“He’s been out there for five minutes.”
“That’s not very long.”
“It feels long.”
“I know it does.” He shifts closer, until his forehead presses against mine, taking my hands. “But he’ll come around.”
Mike puts his arm around me, and I lean into him until my head is against his chest. He rests his chin on top of my head, and I close my eyes, breathing in the comforting scent of him, trying to calm my racing heart.
“Whatever happens,” he says, rubbing my back in a soothing circle, “you did it. Okay? You came out to your brother, and you should be so proud of yourself.”
“But what if he—”
“Stop worrying about what ifs. Just breathe.”
I listen to him, taking deep breaths, trying to feel proud instead of worried. He holds me, and outside I can hear the low sound of voices but no words. I keep my eyes closed, and I breathe.
At some point, the door opens, but I don’t even hear it until Mike goes still under me.
When I sit up, Nate and Iris are standing in front of the table watching us.
I don’t move away from Mike. I probably should, but right now, he’s the only thing in the entire world that’s holding me together, and I can’t.
Nate looks at us again, his eyes moving from me to Mike to the way we’re sitting, his arms around me, our bodies turned together. It’s intimate in a way that can’t be explained away. And when Nate takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, I prepare for him to say anything, but “Is he treating you right?”
I stare at him.
At Iris, standing to the side, looking at her husband with an expression that isn’t surprised, where this is going. And that makes one of us.
“What?” I croak.
He crosses his arms, his jaw clenching when he glances at Mike. And I’m starting to get the feeling he’s not mad atmeat all. “I askedif he’s treating you right.”
“Nate—”
“It’s a simple question, Alex. After what happened with that fuckin’—” Nate can’t say his name.
“Yeah,” I say, disbelief filling my voice because,what?“He is. Of course.”
He nods, turning his gaze on Mike, and I know that look. It’s the one he gets when people make fucked up comments about Iris. And Mike doesn’t even flinch.
“You.” Nate points at him, one finger. “You hurt him, we’re going to have a problem. You understand me?”
“Yes, sir,” Mike says, nodding. “I understand.”
Nate holds his gaze, and the tension in his shoulders falls away.
