Page 22 of Leave

Fortunately, she just went to get my father, and the four of us settled into the living room.

“So.” Dad peered at both of us. “I understand there’s something you want to talk about.”

“There is.” I took a deep breath as I tried to conjure up all the words I’d rehearsed on the way here.

Nolan put a reassuring hand on my knee, and I put mine over his wrist, thankful again for the contact.

Dad pushed out a breath, sounding about as exasperated as he had when I’d explained that I’d broken a window in the garage. “Are you two getting married or something?” The“please tell me you’re not”in his tone set my teeth on edge. And told me I was doing the right goddamned thing.

“No,” I said quietly. “We’re not getting married.”

Both of them relaxed minutely, obviously relieved by the news but still apprehensive over what I hadn’t yet said.

“We’re not coming to Easter service,” I said.

More relief. For fuck’s sake.

“Thank you, honey,” Mom said. “We’re glad you—”

“I’m not done,” I cut her off, keeping my voice gentle but firm.

My parents stared at me in silence.

I rubbed my thumb alongside Nolan’s arm just to remind myself we were touching. “We’re not coming to Easter service, and we’re actually leaving town.” I swallowed. “Today.”

“What?” Dad sat up straighter. “You came all this way, and—did the military call you back for something?”

“No. This is my choice.” I glanced at Nolan. “Our choice. We clearly aren’t welcome here, so—”

Instantly, my parents were talking over each other, insisting we were welcome and that this was nonsense.

“No, we’re not,” I said, and they both shut up. “Look. I love you both. But you’ve had a long, long time to figure out if you can accept me. And I’ve been as patient and accommodating as I can be while you figure it out.” Pushing out a breath, I shook my head. “I can’t just keep waiting for you to decide that I’m as much a part of this family as Kevin.”

“Riley!” Mom scoffed. “Of course you’re as much a part of—”

“No. I’m not. Not when you’re still curling your lip about who I am, and acting like my relationship and my identity are just some rebellious teenage phase I’m going to grow out of.” My voice was getting thick, but I barreled on. “And not when you want me to forego Easter service because you’re worried what people might think about your son showing up with a boyfriend.”

“That’s not it at all!” Dad countered. “We just don’t think—there are appropriate ways to behave in a church, and I don’t think it’s too much to ask for—”

“For us to not do things you and Mom do in public and in church all the time?” I laughed bitterly. “That’s part of the problem, too—the double standard. You don’t mind Kevin having his arm around Laura, and you have your arm around Mom, or you hold her hand—whatever. But suddenly when I want to sit next to Nolan, and maybe we want to show literally the same amount of affection you all do, it’s best if we just don’t come.”

To their credit, my parents looked somewhat sheepish. And for a second or two, I thought they might actually see the light.

But then my dad said, “Riley, you know we love you, but this is a difficult thing to understand. Two men together—it’s just not how we were raised.”

Frustration swelled in my chest, and I sighed heavily. “It’s not difficult. It really, really isn’t. We love each other the same way you and Mom do, and the same way Kevin and Laura do. It’s that simple. You’ve had years to get your heads around it—half my damnlife. Or even just accept that maybe you don’t understand it butIdo, and you don’tneedto understand it to accept it. I’m not changing. I can’t change. This is who I am. You can change, and you’ve had plenty of time to, so the only conclusion I can come to is that you aren’t going to.” I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “You obviously don’t want to, and quite frankly, I’m not interested in staying where I’m not wanted.”

My parents both opened their mouths to speak, but I kept going.

“So we’re going to head out,” I said as firmly as my shaky voice would allow. “You know how to reach me. If you decide this”—I gestured at Nolan, then myself—“is something you can accept, let me know. But until then…” Fuck, this was so much harder than I’d thought it would be, and that said a lot.

A comforting hand appeared on my shoulder and squeezed. I put my hand over Nolan’s, letting that contact soothe me for a second or two before I finally managed, “Until you decide to accept that your son is gay, and that his partner is a man—I don’t want to hear from you.”

Those last seven words were the hardest thing I’d ever had to say. They were both the God’s honest truth and the most awful lie. Ididwant to hear from them… but not if it was going to be like this. I wasn’t doing this because it was fun or because I wanted to go no-contact with them. Ihadto, and ithurt.

“Riley,” Mom said. “Are you really going to cut off your family over this?”

I blinked the tears out of my eyes and met her gaze. “Are you really going to let your hangups about my sexuality send me out the door?”

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