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Narrowing my eyes at him, I hold it until he drops my gaze. “What’s going on, Tomas? Are you okay?” Something isn’t right, why is Tomas acting this way?
Tomas sighs and lets go of my hand and scratches the back of his neck, something he does when he’s nervous.
“Hey, whatever it is, it’ll be okay. I got you,” I tell him reassuringly.
He blows out a breath and finally looks up to me. “I’ve been hiding this part of myself for so long, worried about what it would do to you. Hell, I even brought another woman home a few weeks back for you to meet so you’d see I was okay with us just being friends.”
Confusion litters my face. “What are you talking about? Are you not happy that we’re not together anymore? Do you want to go back to us?”
“No, no, that’s not what I’m getting at. Shit, I suck at this. The truth is, I’m attracted to men. I have been for a while now, but I didn’t want to come out because I was worried you’d think there was something wrong with you.”
I snort a laugh, “Dude, that’s great, I’m so happy you’re embracing this side of you. So, are you bisexual or just flat-out gay?” I’m honestly happy for him. Over the years, I have to say I’m not totally blind, but I’d see the way he’d check guys out. I never said anything because I didn’t want to make him uncomfortable.
“I’m bisexual but lean more towards men.”
I stand up and move around to him, sitting on his lap. “I’m so happy you’re embracing your truth,” I tell him honestly and give him a hug.
I move back, and give him a watery smile, and am about to say more, when my phone starts going crazy.
“Who the hell is that?” Tomas asks bewildered.
Sighing, I get off his lap and go to my phone and show him.
He raises a brow, “You’d think she’d get the hint that you want nothing to do with her.”
“Yeah, but you know Eileen, she can’t wrap her head around anyone not wanting anything to do with her. She’ll forever be a pain in my ass, I bet.” Since we moved, my mother has tried calling, texting, and emailing, the whole works. But after talking with my therapist, it’s been agreed that I need to keep the toxic bullshit my mother brings to the table, out of my life. I even changed my phone number, but she managed to somehow get that, too.
I groan when my phone chimes again and see I have ten new text messages, all from her. “Looks like another therapy session about my mother is in order. I don’t even want to open these messages.”
“Then don’t, you said everything you needed to say to her months ago. It was pretty final what you said. It’s not your problem she doesn’t listen and is trying to still make your life hell.”
“Yeah, well, tell that to every other person out in the world that keeps posting all over Facebook about how much they love their mother, and how no matter what happens, you shouldn’t ever turn your back on her.”
Tomas snorts. “Sure, but if people knew about your mother, they’d understand.”
“Not likely, I lost one of my author friends the other day because I made a post about abusive mothers, and she commented saying I needed to forgive her because life is short. I’m sorry but no, you don’t live twenty plus years with abuse to just turn a blind eye to it.”
“Hey, Justine, calm down, you’re getting worked up over nothing. She lives on the island, she’s not here, simmer.”
He’s right. Why I let my mother get me so worked up, I will never know. It’s just a trigger of mine, I guess.
“You’re right. Enough of this, I’ll just block her.” With a few button-pushes, it’s done, blocked. “You wanna go shopping with me today? I need some new furniture since you just finished taking all yours out of here.”
“I’m down for that, I also need bedroom furniture and kitchen stuff.”
We fist bump, then laugh. “Let’s roll.”
