Page 567 of End Game

“It isn't treatment, it's—”

“I know what it is.” My voice stays level.

That matters.

If I get angry, Dad will hear rebellion instead of meaning.

If I raise my voice, Mom will hear pain and try to fix the wrong thing.

So I don't.

“This is not something somebody did to me. Dex did not make me queer. Ronan did not make me queer. Cami did not corrupt me into loving more than one person.”

Mom closes her eyes.

“I didn't choose what genders I'm capable of being attracted to. I didn't choose the fact that loving one person doesn't switch off my ability to love someone else.”

Dad shakes his head. “Everyone has temptations.”

“I'm not talking about temptation.”

“That's exactly what you're talking about.”

“It’s not though.”

Quiet.

Final.

Dad stops.

“I chose Dex.” My throat tightens around his name. “I chose Cami. I chose Ronan. I chose the life we're building because it is good for me.”

Mom's shoulders shake.

“I did not choose to be queer. I didn't choose the way I'm capable of loving.” I pause. “What I can choose is whether I spend the rest of my life lying by omission so nobody here ever has to confront who I actually am.”

Dad's face changes.

For the first time, something like real pain cuts through the certainty.

“And I'm not doing that.”

Mom whispers, “We love you.”

“I know.”

“I don't think you do.”

That hits me harder than anything else.

I don’t let it show, but breathing becomes work.

“I do.”

She presses her palm flat against her chest. “You're my only child.”

There’s the sentence I've been waiting for without admitting I was waiting for it.