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The silence is deafening.
For the first time since I arrived, Dad actually looks away from the TV. His eyes land on me, hold for a second, then drift back to the screen. He grunts and scrunches his nose. That’s probably the most reaction I’ll ever get out of him.
“I see,” Mom says, and her voice is tight like this news is going to make things harder for her. “I can’t believe after all this time you show up to announce you’re moving across the country to live with some man we’ve never even met.”
“His name is Evan,” I repeat. “And you’ve never met him because you’ve made it very clear that this part of my life isn’t welcome here. Which means I’m not welcome here.”
“That’s not fair,” Mom protests, her voice rising slightly. “We’ve never said you weren’t welcome.”
“But you did. You said it every time you asked if I was seeing ‘a nice girl.’ Every time you suggested I pray about my ‘confusion.’ Every time you made it clear that who I am will make your life harder.” I keep my voice steady. “But I’m not here to fight. I’m just here to tell you the truth, the same truth I’ve always had, that I’m bisexual. And I’m in love with a man, and I’m moving to Seattle to build a life with him. I just figured I’d give you the courtesy of saying it to your face so you don’t hear it through the rumor mill.”
Her hands tremble slightly as she picks up her coffee. “Marcus, I only say those things because I want you to have a normal life.”
“See. That’s what I mean, right there. I am living a normal, happy life. It’s just not the life you wanted for me.”
“Because it’s not what God wants for you,” she says, and there it is. “The Bible is very clear about—”
“Mom, respectfully, I don’t give a damn what the Bible says. I didn’t come here to debate theology with you. I came here to tell you what’s happening in my life. You can accept it or not—that’s your choice, one you’ve clearly made. But I’m done trying to be someone I’m not to make you comfortable.”
“Marcus, don’t speak to your mother that way, dammit,” my dad barks.
“Don’t worry. I’m leaving.”
I stand, and so does my mom, her arms crossed tight over her chest.
“I hope someday you can accept me for who I am. But until then, I won’t be around anymore. I can’t keep showing up for people who only love me conditionally.”
“Marcus—”
“Goodbye, Mom.”
I walk to the door, open it, and step outside. I don’t look back at the house as I pull out of the driveway. I don’t let myself wonder if my mom is watching from the window or if my dad even noticed I left.
I just drive toward Evan.
He’s waiting on his parents’ front porch when I pull up, like he’s been out there the whole time. I barely make it up the steps before I’m in his arms, and then I’m sobbing.
Because as much as that needed to happen, as much as I already knew they’d never love me the way I needed, it still hurts.
Evan doesn’t say anything. He just holds on, one hand on the back of my neck, and when the tears finally stop, something in me is quieter than it’s been in years.
I won’t apologize for who I am or who I love. And with everything in me, I know it’s this man, right here.
CHAPTER 42
Evan
The lake is perfect in June.
I’ve been coming to this spot since I moved to Seattle. It’s a hidden stretch of shoreline a couple of hours from the city where the water is clear and the mountains rise up in the distance like a postcard. I told Marcus about it months ago, when we were just dreaming about what our life could look like.
Now he’s here, standing at the edge of the water, taking in the beauty of the view in front of us, and I can’t stop looking at him.
“You weren't kidding,” Marcus calls over his shoulder. “This place is incredible.”
“Told you. Never doubt my mountain recommendations,” I say, stepping beside him.
Marcus laughs, reaching out to steady me when I wobble on the slick rocks. “I wouldn’t dream of it.” His hand is warm on my arm, and I lean into the touch without thinking. Nearly three months of living together has made us even more fluent in each other’s bodies.
