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“Mmhmm. He’d always thought his family was a little ignorant about other cultures, but it wasn’t until he brought his wife home that he figured out they weredeeplyracist. They’d just tuck it into ‘innocently’ ignorant comments.”

“Yeah,” he whispered. “That’s… That’s exactly what it feels like. I… shit. Yeah.” He furrowed his brow. “So what did he do after he figured it out? That his folks were racist?”

“It isn’t whathedid,” I said. “It’s whatshedid. It took exactly one ignorant remark about their baby while she was pregnant, and Hikari to put her foot down. She told him she would not tolerate them anymore, and she demanded he take her homeimmediately.”

Riley thumped the edge of the table with his knuckle. “Good for her.”

“Right? The best part is, her mother-in-law looked at him and said, ‘Wow, I always thought women in their culture were taught to never be rude. Apparently not.’”

“No way. She said that?”

“Yep. They left the house and never looked back. I think they’re in Yokosuka now with a third kid on the way. Very happily no-contact with his family.”

Riley blew out a breath. “That still must’ve been hard.”

“Of course it was. But the thing is, his family—the way they acted sounds a lot like the way yours does. And sometimes that kind of treatment is the most insidious. You tell people about it, and they’re like, ‘Okay, but they haven’thurtyou.’” I inclined my head. “Except, we wouldn’t be doing this if they hadn’t. Right?”

His jaw worked as he avoided my eyes. “Yeah. Yeah, that’s…” Sighing, he rubbed the back of his neck. “That’s exactly it. They always act ‘nice’ even when they’re saying shit like that, but at the end of the day, when I’m around them and this subject comes up, I feel like…” He paused, and his voice tried to crack as he said, “I don’t feel like their son.”

Fuck, that was a gut punch.

“Then I think you’re doing the right thing,” I said. “Give them a chance. And if they don’t take it…” I gestured like I was shooing something away. “Be done with it. Don’t keep beating your head against it.”

He watched me for a moment. “So you don’t think I’d be overreacting if I cut them off?”

“After spending half your life putting up with that shit?” I scoffed. “Hardly. And I wouldn’t even give them the ultimatum. We show up, we introduce ourselves as a couple, and if they’re still assholes about it when there’s no denying that you’re really gay—bail.”

Riley rolled his shoulders. “Why does it feel like that’ll be easier said than done?”

“Probably because it will be.”

“Great.” He tilted his head to one side, then the other, as if to work out some stiffness in his neck. “Okay. Okay, that’s the plan, then.” He picked up his spoon again. “Something to give myself indigestion over on the flight.”

“Nah. It’s an international flight.” I grinned. “Free booze!”

Riley’s laugh was gorgeous, and it was also a relief. “Free booze sounds good to me.”

We both chuckled and continued eating.

And free booze or not, I’d probably spend the whole flight worrying too.

Chapter 7

Riley

There was exactly one major drawback to living in Japan, and that was coming back to the U.S.

Crossing the International Date Line along with like seventy-eight time zones meant the mother of all jetlag upon landing stateside. For the first forty-eight hours, Nolan and I were somewhere between semi-sentient zombies and potatoes, and that was being generous.

Fortunately, we’d planned for this. We’d booked a hotel in San Diego near the airport, and we spent the first two days there just getting our internal clocks back into some semblance of order. My family didn’t expect to see us until the third day, so it worked out.

I’d been kind of surprised that, while planning this trip, Nolan had insisted on separate hotel rooms. Obviously we didn’t sleep in the same room at home, but not even on the road?

Whatever. Maybe he snored or something. Hell, maybe I did. And honestly, I didn’t mind having some space to myself while I decompressed after the longest flight ever endured by human beings. Okay, it hadn’t been that long, but it sure as fuck felt like it.

It worked out well enough, though. We’d meet up for food or get something delivered to one of our rooms. We’d watch a few movies, and then we’d retreat to our separate rooms to call it a night.

On the third day, we were as adjusted to the time as we were going to be, so we checked out of our hotel and rented a car. I drove it around the parking lot a bit, and then wandered the area near the lot, just getting used to driving an American car again. Someone had warned me that it was easy to get used to driving on the left in places like Japan. The tricky part was coming back; mentally, a lot of people expected to just bounce right back to the way they’d driven most of their lives, and that was when they made mistakes and caused accidents. I took that to heart and proceeded with caution. Plus just sitting on the left instead of the right felt weird, despite driving that way for my entire adult life before Okinawa.

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