Page 62 of All in December
“Okay,” he says back. “And hey, Cay? You got this.”
It’s another moment I deeply wish I could lean forward and kiss him.Soon, I remind myself. That’s the point of this entire conversation I’m nervous as hell to have with my son.
Inside, Sam toes off his boots and hangs up his jacket, then plops onto the couch. He pulls the blanket off the back, and I turn on the gas fireplace in the center of the room before sitting on the other end of the couch.
He looks over at me. “What is it, Dad?”
I smile gently. “You know how we’ve been spending more time with Nash and the kids lately?”
“Yeah,” he says quickly. “It’s fun. I like Benji. And Emma’s funny.”
I nod. “They really like you too. And I think you’ve probably noticed that I like being around Nash.”
Sam blinks at me for a moment. “Like… as a friend?”
Here goes nothing.
“Well, more than that. Nash and I have been spending time together because we really like each other in the way some grown-ups do.”
He frowns slightly, like he’s thinking through something bigger than the words.
“Like you used to like Mom?” he asks without accusation, more so confusion.
“Yes. Your mom is great because she gave me you.” I say that because it’s true, and I never bad-mouth his mom in front of him. “But sometimes feelings change as you grow, and sometimes you learn new things about yourself too. And for me, that meant realizing I could like Nash.”
He looks down at his fingers in his lap, quiet for a second. “So you like boys and girls?”
“Yeah, I do,” I say. But even as I say it, there’s a flicker of doubt. Because lately, I’ve been wondering if I’m actually gay, not bi.
I haven’t said that part out loud yet. It’s just been one of those quiet thoughts hanging out in my mind.
With women, I think I tried so hard to make it feel right because that’s what I was supposed to want. I thought that’s what I did want. But now, being with Nash has made everything feel different. I’m not sure how to unravel years of assumptions and expectations. Unsure how to tell what was genuine attraction versus emotional safety or pressure or performative closeness because I loved my ex, once upon a time, I really did.
I’m not ashamed of being bi, if that’s what I am, but I’ve started questioning if that’s the right label for me the more time I spend with Nash.
Everything with him just feels better. Still, I don’t want to make Sam attempt to sort something I haven’t even figured out myself.
It’s hard living in a world that clings to labels so much. It adds a layer of pressure, even if Nash has never asked me to define my sexuality.
So instead, I just smile.
“And,” I continue, “I like Nash a lot, and it’s important to me that you know how I feel about him because you’re the most important person in my life, and I want you to feel included.”
He nods slowly. “Okay… I guess that makes sense.” Then after a moment, he grins. “Does this mean more sleepovers with Benji?”
“Only if you’re comfortable. You’d still have your space, Sam. Nothing about us changes.”
He’s quiet again, then says, “I want more sleepovers. It’s like I’ll have a brother and a sister now! Right?”
“You can definitely see them more, yes,” I half-answer. “Thank you for being open.”
He nods. “Can we go now? We were gonna do two layers of pillows this time in the fort.”
“Yeah.” I chuckle. “Go get your stuff” barely leaves my mouth before Sam disappears down the hallway to pack a bag.
I sit on the couch for another second, the weight of the conversation slowly lifting off my chest. Our talk went exactly how I’d hoped it’d go, and while Sam will probably have more questions when he’s not so focused on going over there, he seemed okay with it, and that’s all that matters.
I grab my phone and text Nash.
