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“I told her I was gay.”
Rick starts laughing, almost choking on his own breath. “Fucking hell, mate. I almost believed you for a second there. Jesus.”
My expression doesn’t falter. I shrug a little.
Rick’s laughter fades. “Holy shit. You’re…you’re serious?”
“Yeah. And look, I get it if you don’t want me to stay. I can—”
“Mate, you can kip here as long as you need,” he interrupts, rising from his chair. “I think we’re gonna need a couple of beers before you carry on, though.”
“Sounds good.”
Rick heads for the kitchen, turning back when he reaches the door. “Gay? You sure?”
Amused by the gobsmacked expression on his face, I can’t help chuckle. “Yes, Rick. I’m sure.”
Rick nods. To himself, I think. “Beer or cider?”
“Whatever you’re having.”
And then he disappears from the room, and I inhale for a solid five seconds. I did it. I told someone…and they didn’t look hurt or disgusted. He didn’t punch me or throw me out. He’s getting me a beer. He wants to talk to me. My life’s a fucking mess, but it’s okay.
I’m okay.
But will my family be?
On Rick’s return, I offer him the Cliffs Notes version of my life story. I tell him about my new relationship, if that’s even what Laurence and I have together, but I don’t share Laurence’s name. It doesn’t feel right exposing Laurence like that, not when people already know him. Or a version of him, at least. It doesn’t come as a surprise that Rick doesn’t have any advice for me. Mostly, all he has to give are lots of whoas, fucking hells, and shit, sorry mates. Somehow, that’s enough. Just getting it out, is enough. With each passing minute, every spoken word, the crushing weight on my chest lifts a little more.
“Martin, my brother, well he and Gemma slept together before we had Harley,” Rick announces, completely out of nowhere, just when I thought our conversation was beginning to return to more mundane, everyday things.
My neck snaps back. Eyes widen. The English language eludes me.
“That’s why we don’t get along,” he adds.
“Oh,” is the only word my brain can find.
“I just thought since you were sharing, you know. And also, me and Gemma got through that. At first, I was going to tell you that you and Rebecca could get through your shit, too…if you wanted, but it doesn’t really sound like that’s an option.”
“No, but I appreciate the sentiment nonetheless, and I’m sorry about your brother. Can’t be easy working for him.”
Rick cocks his head, shrugs his shoulders and swigs his bottle of cider. “It’s…getting easier. I forgave Gemma a long time ago, decided my love for her was bigger than her mistake. Trying to find a way to do the same with Martin, I guess.”
My own bottle has warmed in my hand. I haven’t drunk any yet and doubt I will. Instead, I pick at the label. “I don’t know if Becca will forgive me. As for the kids…” The weight returns, heavy on my chest, making each inhale more painful than the last. “I could lose them, Rick.”
“Won’t happen.” Rick shakes his head with confidence. “You’re a good dad, Walker. In the end, that’s all that will matter.”
I will myself to believe him but it’s no use. I know it’s something I’m going to have to wait and find out.
As I go to reply, the high-pitched squeals of young voices ricochet off the window.
“Gemma’s home,” Rick says, and a moment later, his partner walks through the front door with their three children in tow.
“Daddy!” One boy yells, running over to Rick before leaping onto his lap. The other boy clings to his mum’s coat, sizing me up through sceptical eyes, while the girl jumps straight onto the couch next to me.
“I’m Wooby,” says the tiny girl with the red hair.
“Well, hi, Ruby. I’m Will.” I shake her hand, fake screaming when she puts all her weight behind it. “Blimey! You nearly took my arm off.”
Her giggle is adorable. My Lucy used to giggle just like that.
“Harley,” Rick says to the boy on his knee, the oldest of the three kids by the look of them. “Can you be a big boy and take Ruby and Daniel to the dining room while I have a chat with Mum?”
“Uh-huh. Can I put the tube on?”
“Sure.” Rick pats the boy’s head as he climbs down. “Go on, kids. Follow your brother. He’s putting YouTube on.”
I’ve never seen kids move so quickly. “Coulda done with YouTube when mine were that age,” I say, wishing that was all we had to talk about but knowing as soon as the last patter of footsteps leave the room, things will turn all shades of uncomfortable.
Gemma’s expression is wary as she unhooks the handbag from her shoulder and takes a seat on the other armchair.
“You remember Will, right Gem?” Rick says.
