Page 77 of Valor on the Move
“I’m fine. Really!” He looked between his parents. “I am.”
“Darling, you suffered a traumatic event,” Camila said. “It can’t hurt to discuss it with a professional. We’ll all be meeting with her separately. Not just you.”
“Oh. Okay, I guess.”
“Okay,” Ramon agreed. He hesitated. “Then there’s the matter of your sexuality.”
Rafa tensed. “I thought we already talked about that.”
“Yes, but we need to discuss your plans for going public.”
His heart dropping, Rafa picked at the jagged edge of a fingernail, his gaze zeroed in on it. “Don’t worry. I’ll keep it private until you’re out of the White House. That was always the plan. I don’t want to screw things up for you.”
“Rafa.” His father’s tone was stern. “Will you look at me, please?” When Rafa raised his head, Ramon went on. “I’m only worried about you. I have less than six months left in the White House, and I don’t want you living in secret a day longer if that’s not what you want. I don’t care what the party thinks. I’ve done their bidding long enough. We’ve been reading about this…” He waved his hand. “Coming out. The experts say it should always be on your terms.”
Rafa smiled tentatively. “Oh. You really wouldn’t mind if I told everyone I’m gay? I thought… I mean, you wanted me to stay in the closet. You assumed I would.”
Camila’s face pinched. “We did. And we realize now it was quite a mistake to make that assumption. To assume that because you hadn’t said otherwise, you were happy with the status quo. If you want to come out publicly, we’ll support you completely.”
As his father nodded, Rafa considered it. “Would you be saying this if I hadn’t been kidnapped?”
His parents shared a glance, and Ramon answered sadly. “I don’t know, Rafa. Maybe not. Maybe it would have taken more time to reach this point. I’d like to think we’d have arrived here either way. But to come so close to losing you…it puts life in perspective. That was the darkest night of our lives. It was like an eternity waiting to hear if our son was alive or dead. To know if we’d ever see you again.” He shuddered. “Perhaps one day you’ll have a child of your own, and you’ll be able to imagine this terror.”
His mother said rigid beside Rafa. He reached for her hand. “Mom…”
Her smile was brittle as she squeezed his fingers. “I made a bargain with God. I swore that if you were returned to us whole, nothing else mattered. Not my ambitions for you, or my expectations, or wants. Only your happiness. And I always keep my promises, Rafa.”
“I know.” He kissed her cheek. “Thank you.”
“So, it’s up to you, Rafalito,” his father said. “We can arrange for an interview with one of the news programs, or a magazine. Or you can simply begin living openly and see other boys. The rumors will fly, and we can simply say yes, our son is gay. And that will be that. Or you can do nothing at all. The choice is yours.”
“I don’t really want to give an interview, but it would be nice not to pretend anymore. Can I think about it?”
“Of course,” Camila answered. “There’s no rush. We just wanted you to know you have our support.”
“That means more to me than I can say. Thank you.” Rafa swiped at his eyes. “Ugh. I think I’ve cried more in the past few days than I have in my entire life.”
Ramon laughed softly. “Yes. I think that’s true for all of us.”
“And if you guys are supporting my choices, you’re still on board for Australia and the Cordon Bleu after I graduate UVA?”
“We are. Right, my dear?” Ramon looked to Camila.
Fingering her pearls, she nodded. “If that’s truly what you want.”
“It is. The next intake for the Grand Diploma is in July—their winter session. I’m thinking I’ll move down there at the end of January after the inauguration. Get a job in a restaurant. Settle in and get used to normal life before school starts.”
“And how long is this course?” Ramon asked.
“Two and a half years.”
Camila frowned. “But surely there are cooking schools closer to home?”
“Mom, I really want to go to Australia. It doesn’t mean I’m going forever. But I’ve been dreaming of this for years.”
She looked down at her hands, fiddling with her diamond ring. “Truly? For years?”
“Uh-huh.”
“I wish you’d said something.”
“I wanted to.” Rafa hitched his shoulders. “But you always hated the idea of me cooking. Even when it was a hobby.”
She pressed her red lips together. “Yes.”
“But why? There are a million male chefs who aren’t gay, Mom.”
“Of course there are. It wasn’t that.” She shook her head. “You were always different in your own way, and I admit that scared me.” She glanced at Ramon. “We worked so hard to erase the parts of us that were different. To assimilate.”
