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And I did. It was suddenly clear as day to me. His secret.
But my heart wasn’t breaking because of what he was going to tell me. It was breaking because I was afraid. Afraid because my family was already cracked, with gaping wounds that couldn’t be fixed, and when the dust settled, I wouldn’t have him anymore. Not like before. Not like I was supposed to have him.
“This is hard for me, Everly.” His voice was shaky, his hands fisted. That place inside me, the small soft spot where my heart was…that place expanded and then constricted so tight that I could barely breathe.
“It’s hard for me too,” I said hoarsely. “And for Mom.”
He made a weird noise when I said that and exhaled a long, shaky breath.
“I’ve never broken my marriage vows. I want you to know that. Never.”
I didn’t know what to say to that. I mean, it was so personal, and there was a part of me that couldn’t believe I was hearing this stuff.
“But I’m…” He cleared his throat again and leaned onto the table, his hands spread, his long elegant fingers thumping nervously. I swear it was the only thing keeping him on his feet. “Things between your mother and I haven’t been good for a long time.”
“And that gives you the right to lie to her? To us? For over a year? How is that dealing with a problem?”
“I was trying to protect…to…”
“How is lying protecting your family?” I butted in. “I’m seventeen, and I know that lies only make things worse. Just because it’s easier to lie doesn’t mean you should do it.” My voice was shrill. “You taught me that.”
He was silent for a few moments. “No. No, it doesn’t, and I’m sorry for that.”
“Are you gay?” I blurted before I could stop myself.
“What? No, I…”
But I saw the truth in his eyes.
“You’re lying,” I shouted. “This right here is going to change my life. Can’t you at least be honest with me now? There’s no one here but us.”
“It’s complicated,” he said carefully, eyes falling from mine.
But it was enough. I saw a truth that was quickly overshadowed by fear. I got that. Fear could make anyone do stupid things. But this was my life too, and he needed to own his shit. Not bury it.
“Are you gay?” I asked again, moving so that he had to look at me.
I didn’t think it was a sin or anything. I mean, I don’t think that I did, but staring across the table at my father, I couldn’t deny the fact that along with anger, disappointment, and fear, the only other emotion inside me right now was shame.
I loved this man. I hated this man. I was proud of him, and I was ashamed.
How screwed up is that?
Chapter Twenty-five
Trevor
I stared at the acoustic guitar in my room for a good hour before I picked it up. My dad had worked hard to make enough cash to buy it for me on my fifteenth birthday. He’d got it off some old guy out in the swamps, a poor bastard whose talent had been stolen by arthritis. The guitar was battered, beat-up, and used, just like a Gibson should be, and it was worth a small fortune.
I had, like, six guitars, but this one was my favorite. Partly because it was a ’56 Gibson, but mostly because my dad gave it to me.
I use to play it all the time, but I hadn’t touched it since the accident. Sure, I practiced scale runs on my electric because it was easier. The strings were lighter and the action was low. But that wasn’t the only reason I avoided this acoustic. The Gibson reminded me of that night.
The only reason it had survived the accident was because I’d left it behind at the party, too wasted to care about this special thing my dad had given to me. Brent had scooped it up for me. He’d kept it for months, and when I finally came out of the coma, it was the first thing he’d brought to the hospital. I think he thought it would make me feel good, you know, to see it. Touch it even.
But it didn’t. Something about the guitar triggered a kind of blackness in me, and truthfully, setting it in the corner of my room was almost like a punishment. Maybe one I deserved. A screw you for the stupid mistake that had landed me right where I was. On a road to nowhere.
I held the guitar in my hands, and it didn’t even feel right. Didn’t feel like there was anything there. No connection. No passion. There was nothing.
