Chapter 21 Andrew

"Dinner is ready. I'm going to get Gabriella." Before he climbed the stairs, Rafael leaned in and planted a soft kiss on Andrew's lips.

Rafael had set the lasagna out to rest before cutting it. It looked delicious, and Andrew couldn't wait to taste it. The simmering tomato sauce sent a warm, inviting aroma through the air as Andrew waited in Rafael's spotless kitchen. The doorbell's shrill ring cut through the cheerful anticipation, followed by the unmistakable sound of the door being swung open. Big, heavy steps approached the kitchen. Who did Rafael know that would walk into his home? The answer was revealed as a scene straight out of Andrew's nightmares—Mr. Duarte, Rafael's imposing father, his face a mix of hate and anger.

The air crackled with tension as Mr. Duarte's gaze landed on Andrew. The scowl that was always on the man's face deepened into a menacing glare. "Andrew," he spat. "What are you doing here?"

Andrew instantly felt queasy and unsettled. He knew Mr. Duarte's dislike for him bordered on hatred and being caught in his crosshairs never sat well. "Uh, I'm here for dinner, Mr. Duarte," he stammered.

Mr. Duarte shoved past him with an unnecessary amount of force, nearly knocking him off balance. "Dinner?" he shouted, the sound echoing through the kitchen. "You have no business being here. Get out!"

"Did you send my father a letter?" Andrew asked.

"What are you talking about?" The way he fixed his gaze on Andrew made him uncomfortable.

"My father received a letter from you."

"Not from me. Get this straight! No Duarte would ever write a letter to a Star. We hate every single one of you. Get the hell out of Rafael's home!"

Andrew flinched, a wave of anger battling with the urge to try to reason with the unreasonable man. "Mr. Duarte, I'm here for dinner," he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

Reason seemed a lost cause. Before Andrew could plead his case further, a stinging blow connected under his eye. Mr. Duarte's fist had found its mark, sending a jolt of pain through Andrew's eye. A wave of nausea washed over him as his stomach twisted uncomfortably.

Just then, a blur of motion appeared at the top of the stairs. Rafael, his face a mask of fury, launched himself between Andrew and his father. "Pop! Leave him alone!" he roared, shoving Mr. Duarte back with surprising force.

Mr. Duarte stumbled back, his fury momentarily checked. "He doesn't belong here, Rafael!" he bellowed, his voice shaking with hate and desperation. "Everyone is talking about you two. He's here to corrupt you! All of you—you're going to hell!" He turned to Gabriella, who had followed Rafael into the kitchen. "If you stay with these two, you're on your way to hell with them. Come home with me now."

"No. I'm staying here. Nobody in this house is going to hell or anywhere else," Gabriella shouted, standing beside Rafael.

Shame burned in Andrew's gut as Mr. Duarte's words echoed in the room. Was there something truly wrong with him? Rafael stood between them, his jaw clenched tight, a silent promise of protection radiating from him. Finally, in a voice that left no room for argument, he commanded, "Leave, Pop. Now."

Mr. Duarte glared at them for a beat longer, his hatred a tangible force in the room. "All three of you have shamed your families. I never want to see any of you again." He stalked to the front door, then with a final, earth-shattering slam of the door, he was gone.

"Are you okay?"

Gabriella got him an ice bag. "Keep this on your eye."

"You're going to have a shiner. Does anything else hurt?"

"No. I'm fine. I didn't see it coming. I don't understand why he hates me so much."

"The same way your father hates Gabriella and me. Old family bullshit. I'm done with my father."

"Your father didn't send my father a letter," Andrew said.

"Then who sent it?" Rafael asked.

"My bet is Miss Amelia," Gabriella offered.

The silence that followed felt suffocating. Andrew touched his throbbing eye, a single tear tracing a hot path down his face. Pain and humiliation mixed in a potent cocktail that left him speechless. Gratitude for Rafael's intervention warred with the sting of rejection from Mr. Duarte. How could someone harbor such animosity, especially towards their own son's friend?

"Let's eat," Rafael said as he took the ice pack away from Andrew and put it in the sink. "I can't believe you got hit by both our fathers in one day."

"It was worth it to be with you."

Rafael kissed him on the cheek, then everyone took their seats.

As Rafael served the lasagna, the tantalizing aroma of garlic bread wafted through the air, while a colorful salad added a refreshing touch to the meal. At first, no one said a word.

Gabriella broke the silence. "How can we find out who wrote the letters?"

"For all I know, my father could have lied and said your father wrote him that vile letter," Andrew said.

"I never thought of that. I want to know who sent them too," Rafael said.

"I'm going to bed. Let me know if you guys figure it out," Gabriella said.

"Good night," they both whispered simultaneously, their voices blending harmoniously in the quiet room.

After Gabriella went upstairs, Andrew cleared the table and put the dishes in the dishwasher. Rafael stood behind him, and Andrew felt the warmth of his body against his back. He leaned in and gently placed a soft kiss on his cheek.

"Thanks for helping in the kitchen."

"Thanks for the outstanding dinner. That lasagna was delicious. I'm glad you made it."

"You're welcome. It's Gabriella's favorite. Let's go into the living room and talk."

Andrew quickly wiped his hands on a nearby towel and followed Rafael into the living room. They sat beside each other on the couch and held hands.

"What do you want to do about us?" Rafael asked.

"I want to be a couple. I think people in town will get used to us."

"Why do you think so?"

"Oh, I didn't tell you. After you left earlier, I was greeted by the diner's patrons clapping and some hugged me. They all heard my father calling me names, and they were okay about us, offered support."

"Was Miss Amelia there?" Rafael leaned in close, his warm breath tickling his ear before planting a gentle kiss on his lips.

"No. I love your kisses."

"There's more where that came from. Do you think she wrote the letters?"

"I don't think so," Andrew said. "Do you think those words would come from her church-lady mouth?"

"No. She'd use proper words."

"Remember you bumped into that guy in the grocery store?"

"Brody, from the mixer?"

"Yes him. If you rejected him, he might want to pay you back."

"That's interesting. I don't know where he lives. I suppose I could look it up at work."

"Do you think anything will happen at work?"

"Hell, if I know. I hope it all works out."

"How do you want to deal with us?" Andrew asked. He worried Rafael might want to continue hiding. He was ready to live with who he was.

"I'm not giving you up, if that's what you're asking."

"I want us to be more open in public."

"I don't know if we should push it. It's my job I'm worried about."

"I know. Are we going to see other in secret still?" Andrew asked.

"I don't know yet. We still have our Love Nest unless you want to give up on us."

"I love you, Rafael, and always have. But after what went down, I don't know if I can live in secret anymore. I'm going to go for now and think about it."

"You're leaving me?"

"I'm leaving for now to think about what I want and let you do the same." Andrew stood.

Rafael stood up and embraced him tightly. "I don't want this to be over before we've started."

Andrew's heart ached, and tears welled up in his eyes as he walked away from Rafael and out the door.