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“Evan?” One of my coworkers, Jerry, pokes his head around the corner, tapping his watch apologetically. Shit, I have to go to my meeting.
“I’m so fucking proud of you, Marcus. You know that, right?”
“I couldn’t have done this without you.”
“Yes, you could have. You’re the one who did the work to make this possible,” I push gently. “But I’m glad you didn’t have to.”
Jerry’s still waiting, so I start wrapping up. “I have to go. But I’m calling you the second I’m out of my meeting, okay? We’re going to celebrate properly tonight.”
“I can’t wait.”
“I love you, Marcus.”
“I love you too.”
We hang up, and I stand there in the hallway for a second longer than I need to, soaking this all in. Marcus is moving here. In three weeks, he’ll be in my kitchen, my bed, my life. Every single day.
I text my mom before walking into the meeting, unable to hold it in one more second.
Me:
He got the job! He’s moving here in three weeks!!
Mom:
!!!! I’m so happy for you both. Tell him we can’t wait to have him properly in the family.
I smile down at her words before sliding my phone into my pocket.
Jerry takes one look at me. “Good news?”
“Yeah,” I say. “The best.”
CHAPTER 41
Marcus
I’ve made this drive a million times, but today, I feel okay about it, because I’m going to say what I need to say and close a chapter that’s been left lingering for too long.
Evan wanted to come with me. He offered three separate times last night while we were laying in his childhood bed, but this is something I need to do alone. Not because I’m ashamed of him or us, but because this conversation isn’t about proving anything to my family. It’s about telling them the truth and then walking away with my peace intact.
“Call me if you need me. I’ll steal my mom’s car and be there in ten,” Evan assures me.
“I’ll be okay, but thank you, baby. I’ll be back here as soon as I’m finished.”
He kisses me before climbing out of my Jeep and I watch him walk inside his parents’ house. Two Christmases ago, I held on to his hand in this exact spot because I couldn’t stand to let him go. Now I pull away from the curb knowing he’ll be right here when I get back.
Dr. Patel and I have been working toward this moment for months. Not the specific conversation with my family, but the internal work that makes a conversation like this possible. The boundary-setting and accepting that I can’t control how my parents react, only how I show up, and understanding that their love—or lack of it—doesn’t define anything about me.
Bloomington holds so many ghosts for me. But they don’t haunt me the way they used to. Over the past few months, I’ve opened up to Evan about my past and how alone I felt growing up, with the exception of a few friends, specifically Josh. I told him about the first time I’d had a bad depressive episode when I was a teenager and couldn’t get out of bed for weeks. How my mom had walked past my room like I was choosing to be broken, while my dad pretended it wasn’t happening. How that’s what caused her to bring me to Dr. Patel. Her wanting someone else to “fix” my “problems” so they didn’t interfere with her life was actually one of the best things she’s ever done for me.
Evan held me through that conversation. He asked questions and let me sit in my pain without trying to fix it or minimize it. And when I finally looked up at him, tears streaming down my face, he simply said, “You’re not alone anymore. I love you, and I’m here.”
I even met Evan’s family a couple of days ago when he flew in to help me pack. Evan had warned me they’d be a lot but they were excited to meet me. I didn’t fully understand what “a lot” meant until I was met with his loud, affectionate family that hugs hello and goodbye and actually likes each other.
When we got there, his mom opened the door before I even had the chance to knock, like she’d been watching for the car.
“Hello! You must be Marcus,” she said, and before I could get a word out, she pulled me into a big hug. Not the careful, obligatory kind I grew up with. “It’s so good to finally meet you in person.” She pulled back just enough to look at me, beaming like I was something worth being happy about instead of something to manage or explain away. His dad shook my hand and immediately asked me questions about Chicago and Seattle.