Page 30 of Lucky Dance Date
It was as we’d cuddled on the dance studio floor after he’d bonded me that I’d made my decision. I had to cut my parents from my life entirely, at least for a while. As far as I knew, they still weren’t aware of the studio, and I needed as much of a buffer before them learning of it as I could manage.
I told José as we curled together in bed that first night that we needed to clear my apartment as quickly as possible. They would undoubtedly show up there as soon as they received my letter or realized I’d blocked their calls, and I wanted them to find the place empty.
José and our friends had rallied, and my apartment was bare before I’d even been mated a full day. I’d blocked my parents’ numbers after that, and updated my voicemail to indicate that I was screening calls from unknown numbers.
The letter was the final part of it. I’d agonized for days over what to say; tried to pour all the hurt onto the paper. But I realized they’d never understand. My feelings—my pain—weren’t valid to them, and never would be.
What I finally wrote was simple, straightforward, and with as little information as possible.
Mama and Dad,
I’ve taken a mate. Do not contact me. I am alive, safe, and happy. That is all you need to know. Any attempts to contact me will be considered harassment, and could result in legal action. Slander will also no longer be tolerated, and if I hear of you spreading rumors I will not hesitate to retain an attorney to protect my reputation.
-Wes
I needed to do it. They would try to strip everything from me again if I didn’t cut them from my life. But they were still my parents.
“José?”
He walked over and wrapped his arms around me again. “Yes?”
“I’m scared.”
“It’s ok to be scared. You’ve never known a time without them in your life.”
“What if it’s a mistake?”
“Whether it’s a mistake or not is up to you, but you won’t know that until after you try. And if it is, then you can let them in again.”
I took a deep breath and held the envelope to my chest. “Will you put it in the mailbox for me?”
José shook his head against my neck. “I can’t do it for you. A part of you will always question it if I do. As much as I would like to take this burden from you, you have to do it yourself.”
He was right, though I hated to admit it. José had made it clear that whether I cut my parents from my life, or continued to deal with them, he would support me. It was my decision alone.
I hated the way my parents treated me, but there was a part of me that would always love them. They were still my parents, after all.
My lip quivered. It was another trap, and I knew it. They would use that love against me. It had always been the weapon of last resort. Any time it seemed that they wouldn’t get their way, Mama would turn on the tears and accuse me of not loving them as a son should.
If I gave them as much as a crack, they would wedge it open until there was a chasm they could walk through.
I squeezed my eyes shut. “Hold me and open the box?”
“That, I can do.”
José wrapped one arm around me and kissed my temple. The blue door of the mailbox squeaked as he opened it.
I took a breath and opened my eyes. Then I dropped the envelope in. There was no going back, no retrieving it.
“I’m proud of you,” José whispered against my hair.
“We all are.”
I turned to see Sean, Scott, Lowell, Dom, and even Cameron and Avery—who looked as if he’d been crying— standing behind me.
“What are you all doing here?” I asked.
José squeezed me. “I asked them to come for moral support.”
