Page 180 of The Blame Game

Kurt shrugged. “We stayed out of the eye of the media and, remember, this was long before the days of camera phones and JockGossip. And after you were an adult and playing in the NHL, Robert and I moved to a smaller town and I stayed out of the spotlight. For years we lived in fear, rarely going out in public together, sure someone would out us but … it hasn’t happened. They’ve respected our privacy.”

“Mother fucker,” Dom swore. “I tried so hard to keep things with Shea under wraps and—”

But had he? Or had some part of him wanted, needed that push?

Kurt must have been thinking along those lines too because he said, “You’re a lot like your old man.”

“Apparently.” Dom wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

“I know you were angry after you walked in on me and Robert. And I’m sorry you learned about us that way. I’m sorry I wasn’t brave enough to tell you to your face who I was. Who I loved.” Kurt looked down. “I’m not saying it’s an excuse, but you know what it was like then. What people said. What they thought about men like me—like us.”

Dom nodded and gripped the railing behind him.

“And after you found out, I thought you were disgusted by me. By my being with men.”

“No,” Dom croaked. “Not by you sleeping with men. I … I misunderstood. I thought you were cheating on Mom and lying to her and I was angry at that. And maybe it was all tied up in how I felt about myself too.”

“Fuck.” Kurt shook his head. “I had no idea you—you were into men too. I thought I was protecting you, but I wonder now if I made you ashamed of who you were.”

“Yes,” Dom admitted.

Kurt winced. “I—I’m sorry. I really am.”

Dom nodded.

“I know this was a lot to take in. And I understand it’s—it’s a little fucked up—”

“A little?” Dom echoed.

“Maybe a lot. I’m not saying the decisions your mother and I and Robert and I made were right but we—we only had so many options. It was the early eighties when I met your mother, Dom. There was no chance in hell I was going to come out. You know how bad the league was ten years ago. Forty? I’d have lost everything. I’d never have played hockey again.”

Dom swallowed hard.

His father wasn’t wrong.

Even if the decisions his parents had made seemed fucked up now, he could see why they’d made sense at the time.

He didn’t like them or agree with them, but he could understand them on some level.

“Why didn’t you tell me this then?” Dom asked.

“Because you wouldn’t let me.”

Dom opened his mouth to protest, then shut it again. It was true. Both of his parents had reached out to him. They’d called numerous times, until he’d changed his number. His mother had written letters, which had gone into the trash, unopened.

“You’re right,” he admitted.

“Maybe I should have pushed it. Shown up after a game and demanded you talk to me but—”

“No, I get why you didn’t.” Dom felt dizzy. His whole life upended in one evening.

Kurt sighed heavily. “The only reason I reached out now was because I saw that you were with Shea.”

Dom frowned. “You thought I’d be more sympathetic to your story.”

“I suppose. I thought—I hoped that because it had been so many years, you might be willing to hear me out. Remember, I had no idea you were gay. Or bi?”

“Gay,” Dom said with a sigh. “And I hadn’t thought about that. That you didn’t know about me.”

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