Page 137 of At The End Of The Day

“He put his hands on you?” he blasted, ringing my ear. “Knowing you’re still healing from several gunshot wounds?”

“Yeah, he did. And Tyler rushed outside—”

“Tyler? Tyler Warren, right?”

Struck dumb for a moment, my jaw fell, wondering just how much everyone knew of my life out here in Mobile. All these years, I thought I’d been off their radar, and no one knew shit. Wrong, they knew every single detail and, honestly, I shouldn’t be surprised.

“Yeah.”

“You think I can get an autograph?” he asked, his voice changing to curious. “Evie loves him.”

“Uh…y-yeah. Sure.”

“This is so cool. One of these days, when things smooth out between us, we need to come visit so you can introduce them. She will flip out.”

A smile tugging the corner of my mouth, something suddenly dawned on me, my own words sinking into my brain. When I married Vincent, and Tyler married Violetta, we would all be related, family. My brother-in-law was going to be a two-time Grammy winning country singer. How the hell had all this change happened so quickly?

“Max?”

“Hm?”

“My parents?”

“Oh, oh. Right. Uh, y-yeah. I got that. Don’t you worry about them, Dario. I’ll have a little chat with them, and they won’t ever even contact you anymore. I’ll make sure they keep sending monthly allowances for Piera, but, otherwise, you’ll not have to worry about them ever again.”

“And you’re okay with me and the gayness?”

“I’m not okay with that word, Dario,” he chuckled. “Have you forgotten what we did when we were kids?”

Frowning, I racked my brain but couldn’t figure out what he was referring to.

“Oh, my god, you did,” he laughed. “We fucked around, Dario. How can you not recall that?”

“What?” I snorted, shaking my head. “No, we didn’t. When?”

“When we were fifteen. Oh, my god, how could you not remember? I mean, we didn’t do anything, but we jacked off together. We even jacked each other off, but that was abou—”

“Holy, shit!” I roared, the forgotten memory slamming into my brain out of nowhere. “It was in Italy, the family villa—”

“There you go,” he snickered. “We were young and curious, drooling over the maid. We practically yanked our dicks off over her all summer.”

My elbow banged on the surface, my fingers fisting my hair while the heel of my palm pressed to the center of my forehead. Breathless, I sat there, dumbfounded. “Oh, my god, I remember everything now. That was the first time I ever came.”

“You’re welcome,” he laughed. “Look, like I said, be proud of who you are. If this man is worth you doing a complete one eighty and change your entire viewpoint on homosexuality, then he’s worth honoring the community that goes with being in a same sex marriage.”

“Wait, so you ain’t…You’re not disgusted with me, I’m not bringing shame to the family name, and you’re…you’re embracing my marriage to another man?”

“I don’t see a goddamn thing wrong with your choices. I’m not ashamed of what we did back then. I mean, I was always a little shocked that you had turned out so intolerant, but I just figured you were embarrassed of it.”

Clenching my eyes, I tapped my brow, my stomach tightening. That was the same time I started resenting gays. Apparently, I had been suppressing subconscious thoughts and feelings. Goddammit. So much time wasted, for nothing.

“He’s not ugly, is he?”

“Fuck no,” I whispered, vigorously shaking my head. “He’s fucking gorgeous.”

“Then go for it. Send me an invite. Me and Amos will fly out and celebrate with you.”

“Really?”