No pressure.
So I keep going.
“My sister’s the exception. My younger brother still lives nearby, I think, but we’ve never been especially close.” I pause. “My parents both insist they love me. I’m sure they do. My dad just prefers to act as though me being gay is an unfortunate clerical error.”
Mark says nothing.
“My mum was clearer. She told me years ago she didn’t want to hear about my lifestyle.” I let the word sit there. “Suggested I keep it private.”
Mark goes very still.
“That’s not private,” he says quietly. “That’s being told to make yourself smaller.”
I stare at the fire.
Because he’s not wrong.
“I got quite good at it,” I admit after a moment. “Making things easy for other people.”
He turns to look at me.
“That makes me sad.”
The honesty of it catches me off guard.
So naturally I sidestep.
“What about you? Any tragic coming-out speeches? Family melodrama?”
His chuckles. He sees what I’m doing and lets me do it anyway.
“No. Mine went the opposite way.”
“How suspiciously wholesome.”
“My parents were supportive,” he says. “My brothers were worse.”
I glance at him. “Worse?”
“They decided it was their duty to help.”
“Oh no.”
“Any gay man they met, they tried to set me up with.”
I laugh.
“They once sent me on a blind date with someone they were convinced was gay.”
“Let me guess. He wasn’t.”
“No.”
I grin. “How long until that became clear?”
“Too long. We spent most of dinner trying to work out what the other one thought was happening.”
“That sounds horrific.”
