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“Do you want to tell them?” she asked again.
Again, I thought for a moment, but this one was quick. I wanted to tell them, but I also needed to. One step in front of the other, every pace necessary for me to be as healthy as I could be. “I do,” I admitted.
“You got this,” Imani said again.
More and more each day, I was beginning to see that she was right.
* * *
“So…remember that time I thought it was a good idea for my whole family to meet me at my parents’ house so I could tell them all sorts of personal shit and basically give them an ultimatum?” I asked Spencer, my leg bouncing in the passenger seat of his car. “Not so sure that was a good idea.”
“I remember that time you asked your family to meet you so you could discuss ways you’ve been hurting and how they have contributed to that, so that you can work on mending your relationship if they’re willing to treat you the way you deserve…and if not, so you can continue healing yourself because no one fucking deserves it more than you.”
My heart tried to break down my chest wall with powerful, passionate beats.
Because of him.
“Wow…that was good. How’d you learn to do that?”
“They taught it in my advanced-placement, world’s-best-boyfriend class. Clearly, I killed it.”
A chuckle sneaked past my fear. “No shit. I’d be jealous if I wasn’t the one receiving said world’s best boyfriend’s behavior. Usually, I want to be the best at everything, but when it’s my man who’s captured the honor, I can’t say there aren’t some perks in it for me.”
Spencer reached over, placed a hand on my thigh, and squeezed. “I think we’re both killing it.”
“Must be meant to be,” I replied, and damned if this back-and-forth with him didn’t ease some of my nerves. “Thank you for coming with me.”
Spencer pulled up to the curb in front of my childhood home. “There’s nowhere I won’t go with you, Corb. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
“Including hiding the body?” I teased.
“I’d burn the whole world down for you if I had to.”
Thump, thump, thump. Okay, what happened if one’s heart actually beat out of their chest? Mine was dangerously close. “Oh.”
“Basically speechless? That’s a first.”
“Give me a minute. I’m trying to come up with something to say.”
We chuckled before we were leaning over to kiss each other, words not needed.
“Lots of snuggles tonight, no matter what happens,” Spencer whispered in my ear.
“Lots of snuggles every night. Always.”
“Sounds like a plan to me.”
We got out of the car. I made sure to take Spencer’s hand. The kids wouldn’t be here, of course, and everyone inside knew who Spencer was to me, but it was important that we walked into that house in a way they couldn’t deny us.
I knocked, and it was my dad who answered, which meant they were putting up a strong front. They felt attacked despite the fact that I wasn’t the one who had spent his life telling them they weren’t good enough, but hey, at least we love you anyway!
“Dad,” I said.
“Corbin.” His eyes shot to Spencer. “I thought this was a family thing.”
“Spencer is my family. He’s my partner and I love him.”
Dad sighed but stepped aside and let us in.
Spencer squeezed my hand in support.
Mom, Blaine, and Emma were waiting in the living room.
“Corbin. It’s so good to see you!” Mom stood and pulled me into a hug, my hand disconnecting from Spencer’s. “It’s been too long. You can’t stay away so long.” Her voice was filled with sincerity, and that’s what made this so hard—I knew my mom loved me. I believed they all did, but they couldn’t get past their beliefs, and that kind of love wasn’t healthy for me.
“I know, Mom.”
Spencer and I sat on the love seat. It felt like a standoff, the four of them on one side of the room, us on the other.
“Are you here to tell us how terrible we are again?” Blaine asked. “Because we’re doing our best with the situation. We love you, Corbin. We’ve always loved you.”
“The situation?” I asked. “Is my sexuality a situation? Or was my weight a situation? Who I am isn’t something for you guys to handle…or accept…or manage. Do you know how hard it was for me growing up? To know that I was something my family considered wrong? To be tortured at school every fucking day of my life, only to come home and have my food managed when no one else’s was or to be forced on the treadmill. To constantly hear comments about being careful so I don’t put on more weight, when this should have been my safe place from all the shit I heard out there?”
“We didn’t know you were bullied at school! You didn’t tell us!” Mom defended.
