Chapter 7

7

T he sun was low in the sky, bathing Rebecca's deck in a warm glow, casting long shadows across the weathered wood. Quinn leaned back in her chair, breathing in the crisp evening air. Candle lanterns flickered softly, their gentle light creating a cozy atmosphere around them.

Dinner had been delicious. Rebecca's homemade lasagna was full of flavor, and the conversation flowed as easily as the wine. They'd mostly talked about what they had in common: this town and growing up here, how much things had changed over the years, but also how little had.

Quinn swirled her Cabernet, watching the ruby liquid catch the fading light. A sense of contentment washed over her, but beneath it, a nagging curiosity grew. She couldn't shake the question that had been simmering since she'd learned about Rebecca's divorce and saw her standing beside Chloe at her mother's birthday party. How had Rebecca known? She'd been married to a man for so long. What had changed?

The wine warmed her veins, loosening her tongue. Before she could second-guess herself, Quinn set down her glass and turned to Rebecca. "Can I ask you something personal?"

Rebecca nodded, her eyes warm and inviting in the fading light.

Quinn's heart raced, but she pushed through. "How did you know?" Rebecca held her gaze, and Quinn realized that she was going to have to elaborate. "How did you know that you were gay?"

"You're wondering what made me realize?"

"Yeah," Quinn asked, her heart thumping in her chest.

Rebecca sighed softly. "In hindsight, I should never have married Anthony. I can look back at one of my closest friends in high school, who was not your mother by the way, just to clarify, and say that I had a crush on her. I definitely had a crush on my English teacher. But I guess, growing up here, I didn't know anyone who was gay, and I'd been dating Anthony since I was sixteen. The most natural thing was for us to get married. I'd never dated anyone else. He was my best friend. And honestly, when he asked, I didn't hesitate to say yes."

"How old were you?"

"We were both nineteen." Rebecca took a sip of wine. "I sometimes wonder what my life would have been like if we hadn't been that young. And to finally answer your question, I was twenty-four? Twenty-five maybe when I realized that I might have made a mistake. That I'd been ignoring who I really was. This was more than twenty years ago, and back then, there were regular debates on news stations about legalizing gay marriage and was it the right thing to do. I can't put it down to one thing or one moment, but it just felt like I'd woken up from a daze."

Quinn couldn't take her eyes off Rebecca as she spoke.

"I wish I had a better story," Rebecca said with a hint of a smile. "Well, maybe the story is that it took me another twenty years to actually come out." She shook her head slowly, almost to herself. "I don't know what took me so long. It wasn't just that it was that long before I told Anthony and filed for divorce. I never told anyone. Not even your mother. I guess, a part of me wondered what difference it would make. You know what it's like here. It's relatively conservative, and I still can't name anyone else who's out who lives here. I guess I thought, what's the point in turning my life upside down?"

"But you did."

"Hm. I think it was out of guilt though. Just because I wasn't ready to put myself out there didn't mean that Anthony should miss out on a chance at finding someone who actually loves him. He's actually engaged now. Just last month. To a woman he's been with for the last year."

"Oh wow." Quinn took a drink, the wine warming her.

"Yeah, so that's my story. Sad and all as it is," Rebecca added as she brought her glass to her lips and finished her wine.

"I don't think it's sad. I think it's brave."

Rebecca's gaze was on the sunset, the sky now a blend of oranges and reds. She left her glass on the table and got up, her boots clicking against the wood planks as she made her way to the rail, leaning against it as she watched the sun set.

Quinn did the same, taking a deep breath on her way over to stand beside her. She took in the skyline that now looked like it was on fire, the oranges so vibrant.

"Was what Chloe said true?" Rebecca asked without looking at her. "That you're playing a queer character?"

"Yeah," Quinn said so quietly that she wasn't even sure if she'd said it out loud.

"Was that research? Asking me about my experience?"

"No." Quinn swallowed. "I've already finished shooting." She wiped her now clammy hands on her jeans. She didn't know why, but she really wanted to tell Rebecca. She knew she had Piper, and maybe Quinn had more in common with her. They were the same age and both lived their life in the spotlight, but she was three-thousand miles away.

"Then why did you want to know?" Rebecca asked, turning to look at her now.

Quinn darted her eyes away. She didn't even know how to say it without being weird. A shiver ran through her even though she was wearing a jacket, and Rebecca's hand was on her forearm.

"Let's go in. I have the fire ready to go," Rebecca said, already turning to head inside.

Quinn followed her, grabbing her glass on the way, wondering if she'd missed her chance to say something.

Rebecca's house was similar to the one she was renting, with about the same size kitchen and living area, although this house looked much more lived in. There were cozy throws draped on the back of the brown leather couches and a full wine rack under the stairs. There was a warmth here that was definitely missing from hers.

"More wine?" Rebecca asked as she uncorked a second bottle.

Quinn brought her glass over to the island. "Thanks," she said as Rebecca refilled her glass before filling her own.

They moved into the living room, and Rebecca crouched in front of the fire as she lit a match and brought it to the rolled up newspapers beneath the sticks. She also lit a candle that was on the mantelpiece.

Quinn took a seat on the leather couch and watched as the flames caught, their flickering light dancing across the room. She was lost in thought, the crackling of the fire a distant murmur as she turned Rebecca's story over in her mind.

Rebecca sat beside her, close enough that Quinn could feel the energy emanating from her, a mix of calm and the subtle undercurrent of tension that had been there since their conversation began. The unanswered question hung between them, ‘Then why did you want to know?' Yet, Quinn found herself retreating into the silence.

The answer was easy, and it was complicated. Quinn wanted to know because she needed to understand how someone else, someone who had built a life with a man, could have taken so long to realize that she was gay. She needed to hear that it was possible to live for years, even decades, before discovering something some important about herself.

Quinn drew her gaze away from the fire and found Rebecca watching her, a silent question in her warm, brown eyes. It was now or never. She took a deep breath, the words forming on her lips, delicate and fragile as glass.

"I asked because..." Quinn started, her voice barely above a whisper, "I think I'm going through something similar."

Rebecca's expression was one of surprise and concern. "Quinn?"

The sound of her name, filled with unspoken questions, gave Quinn the courage to continue. "The reason I asked about your experience... It's because I'm questioning everything I thought I knew about myself. And it's terrifying."

Rebecca nodded slowly, her eyes never leaving Quinn's face. "It is terrifying," she agreed, her voice soft and steady. "But it's also one of the bravest things you'll ever do."

Quinn felt a lump form in her throat, the weight of her confession hanging in the air between them.

Rebecca's expression softened, her eyes reflecting the firelight as she reached out and took Quinn's hand in her own. It was a simple gesture, one of comfort and solidarity, and it was enough to give Quinn the strength to continue.

"I've always thought of myself as straight. I mean, all my relationships have been with men. But then, on set for my last movie, I kissed a woman, and I still don't know what happened. But I felt something real, something that scared me. Mostly, I've been feeling guilty, because it felt so unprofessional, but that's why I left Los Angeles. I was so restless. Once I'd finished filming, I packed my bags. I mean, I wanted to be here for my mom's birthday, but I just knew that I couldn't go back. Not until I knew what it meant. And even now, when I've spent the last week here, just thinking and coming to this realization, I don't know when I'll be ready to go back."

Rebecca listened, her thumb gently stroking the back of Quinn's hand, grounding her in the moment. "It's okay to be scared, Quinn. It's okay to be confused." She held her gaze. "But why can't you go back?"

"Because I can't even begin to imagine what it would be like to come out?—"

"Hey," Rebecca said, cutting her off. "When did this on set kiss happen?"

"Two weeks ago."

"Okay." Rebecca smiled. "Coming out should be the furthest thing from your mind. There's no rush. Just look at me." Her lips curved into another charming smile. "Or maybe don't. I wouldn't recommend taking twenty years to do it, but you know what I mean."

Quinn did know what she meant, but she also lived a very different lifestyle. Her career depended on how marketable she was, on what the public's opinion of her was. Oh god. The promo for this movie. It would force her to go back in just a few months. Even if she did a lot of it in New York, she'd still be facing questions about what it was like for a straight woman to play a gay character, and she couldn't lie.

Quinn's heart raced as she thought about coming out. She couldn't imagine what it would be like. What would people think of her after dating some of the most famous actors in Hollywood? Would they think she'd been pretending?

She glanced at Rebecca, who was watching her intently. Quinn knew she needed to say something, but the words wouldn't come.