“Yeah. I should have told her then. That I was gay. That I loved her, but not like that. But instead, I went with it when she kissed me. It felt good to have some kind of contact, even if it felt completely wrong at the same time. I knew I should have stopped it.”
He moves his hand down to my back, rubbing slow circles as he listens.
“I didn’t. It went way too far. We were both too drunk. Too young. Too stupid. And we made Hailey.” It’s small, but I can’t help my smile that forms, thinking about my baby girl. “So I can’t regret it completely.”
“Of course not.” He’s hesitant at first, but then asks, “What happened then?”
“She was scared but so damn happy too.” I look into his eyes and see understanding there. I drop my chin, shame washing over me. “I was scared out of my fucking mind.”
“You were a kid. A gay kid in a ‘conservative’ town. Of course, you were scared. That’s a big deal.”
“I wanted to do what was right. She was afraid of what her parents would say. Fucking terrified her dad would lose his shit because we weren’t married. So in this stupid, numb state, we eloped. My whole life, it was like I had one job and that was to protect Heather. I couldn’t stand to see her afraid like that.”
“So, you got married.”
I nod. “Yeah. And then we told our families that we just didn’t want a big wedding. Then a month later, we told them about the baby. It was one great big happy family moment where they all celebrated, but I stood on the outside in a weird, trance-like fog, just abiding by what everyone wanted. Our parents gave us a down payment for a house. I got a job trimming trees and another one tending bar at the local tavern, and that was it. It was like I accepted my fate.”
“That must have been hell.”
My eyes lock with his, recognition and guilt swimming through me. “It was. It was my own personal hell. It felt like I was playing house, and I just kept thinking about how many men do that their entire lives. About how I didn’t know how to get through it.”
“How did you?”
I look into his eyes, so earnest and caring and take a deep, shaky breath.
“I’m not sure I did.”
But still . . . I know I owe him the full story.
* * *
I shouldn’t have asked him about Hailey’s mother, but I couldn’t take it anymore. The sex with him was as good as it always is, but the intensity paired with the entire day proved to be too much for me. I’m falling for this man. If I haven’t already.
And I need to know him.
“I played my part, but I was dying inside.” I see the anguish on his handsome face, and I wish I could take it all away. “And then one day, I was putting the crib together in the newly painted room for the baby, and I just snapped. It was like I couldn’t take living the lie for a second longer.” I’m nervous for him even though everything already went down. “I thought she’d understand.”
His body is trembling next to mine. The pain and guilt he’s felt all these years spilling over. “Rafe . . .” I don’t know what to say. His name just hangs in the air.
“She didn’t.” His eyes meet mine. “She screamed at me. Pounded on my chest and called me a liar. Which I was, but not because I am gay. She said there was no way I could be gay. That I was just shy.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t have sex with her. The whole time we were together, I think we had sex three times, and every time I had to force myself to get through it. She thought I was being careful because she was pregnant.”
I rub his back, but don’t say anything because what is there to say? The whole story is so fucked up, but me flying into a rage wouldn’t be appropriate at the moment.
“I told her I loved her but I couldn’t love her like that. That I was gay.” His eyes close slowly and then open, his words dripping with hurt. “She called me so many names. She screamed at me, and I let her because I deserved it.”
Now I have to say something. “No. You didn’t.”
“I did, Nolan. I did.” He pulls away and stands up, pacing the floor in front of me, running his fingers through his hair before turning back to me. “I shouldn’t have led her on. I sure as fuck shouldn’t have taken her virginity on a drunken whim.”
“You still don’t deserve to be berated.”
“She didn’t deserve what I did. I slept with her when I knew I was gay. When I knew I didn’t love her like that but she did.”
“You were kids.”
He sits back down on the bed and lays his head in my lap, defeated. “I was a prick. And she had every right to be mad, but I couldn’t carry it out. I told her she could stay in the house, that I’d be the baby’s father, no matter what, as well as her friend.” I stroke his hair. “And she was horrified by that.”
“By you stepping up?”
“She wanted me to continue the lie. She said, eventually, I’d fall for her. She just knew it. That we could be a family.”
Again, I feel nothing but anger for the people who should have loved him for everything he was. For the boy who was scared to be who he was because of the bigots in his life.
“I told her no, and she slapped me really fucking hard for such a small girl.”
I bristle, my teeth clenched. “She hit you?”
He sits up and looks at me. “I moved out. I told my parents why when they asked, and they pretty much said the same things Heather did. But I couldn’t do it. I wouldn’t. My Aunt Jo was the only one who was kind to me after that. She let me move in with her.”
“I’m glad you had her.”
He smiles at that. “Me too. Anyway, Heather was seven months pregnant by then and didn’t want anything to do with me. I paid the bills and gave her space, letting her know as often as I could that I was there for her and the baby. That I didn’t blame her for being mad.”
I’m sure that was hard for her when she was pregnant, but I can’t wrap my head around her not forgiving him, for not trying to see the situation from his side.
“When Hailey was born, she refused to let me in the hospital to see her. And she continued to refuse for the first two weeks until my Aunt Jo threatened legal action. I hated that part, but I needed to be in Hailey’s life. I wouldn’t let her down.”
“Of course.”
“Finally, we worked out an arrangement. I’d have Hailey every other weekend, and Heather let me stop by after work to see her almost every day.” I listen, feeling a storm coming in this story that would be even worse than the terrible beginning was. “I started noticing the house becoming more and more unkept, which I understood. She had a baby, and once Hailey started crawling, she was a handful. So I’d always try to help out, but it was messier and messier every time I came over. And then Heather, who’d always been really concerned about her makeup and hair, her clothes . . . It was like she didn’t care anymore.”
“Postpartum depression?”
His face looks grim. “I thought so. I begged her to get some help. But she called me a lot of names and pushed me away. Kept Hailey away from me for a week. She just wasn’t the same girl I knew.”