Chapter 15

Fifteen

Three weeks later

HUNTER

I’m back at work now. And while I feel like I’m functioning better each day there are still moments where I find myself missing Oliver so much it hurts to breathe. I’m dreading returning home in a few weeks for the wedding, walking Mom down the aisle to the man I love, the man I’ve been trying to move on from.

The first several days of being back at my apartment after leaving Scarsdale were the worst. I was so upset I couldn’t even bring myself to get out of bed the first three days. After that I didn’t do anything other than mope around the apartment in my pajamas, eating way too much junk food and not even bothering to shower.

It took my roommates intervening for me to realize just how bad things had gotten, and I decided I needed to really get away, by myself, to just think and be and work though all of my feelings on my own. So I bought myself a ticket to Italy with the savings I’d acquired from work, even though financially it wasn’t the wisest decision, I knew that for the sake of my mental and emotional wellbeing I had to do it.

I’d never been to another country before, and while it was frightening, being on my own and not speaking the language or knowing my way around, it also gave me something else to do, another way to occupy my mind, and I loved it. I visited Rome, Florence, Venice, and Milan, had the most delicious pasta and pizza I’ve ever tasted, and even took some cooking classes.

I took my time and did a lot of sightseeing. I visited the Colosseum, the Pantheon, and Trevi Fountain; toured the Catacombs, drank delicious wine, and went on a gondola ride on the Grand Canal.

I fell in love with the people and the country, and allowed myself to accept the fact that Oliver wasn’t mine. That he wouldn’t be mine, and didn’t love me the way I loved him. And even though it was painful, and even though I cried as much as I smiled and laughed, my time in Italy healed me, restored me, revived me, and allowed me to begin to grieve the loss of the man I loved.

There was a part of me that would always love him, I knew that. But life was good and beautiful in itself, and that was something I needed to learn. That I could be happy without him. And that I couldn’t make him love me back or force him to accept something he wasn’t ready to accept, to be brave enough to choose himself and his own happiness, whether it was with me or not.

I would attend the wedding, and then it would be months before I saw Mom or Oliver again, and every visit would be short. Maybe they would even stop altogether. I didn’t know.

I’d told him at the beginning that I knew what I was risking to be with him, that I accepted the consequences, and if I had it to do all over again, I wouldn’t change a thing.

Because Oliver Jones was many things, but he was not regrettable.

OLIVER

I’m sitting with my nephew on my lap, reading him a story, when my phone buzzes. It’s taking much longer than it should because he likes to point to all the pictures and have me tell him what they are, but I don’t mind. I love his curiosity and the way he giggles or claps when he gets excited about something. And my heart melts when he calls me “Unca Owi.” Being with him and my sister these past few weeks has been exactly what I needed. His smiles and hugs never fail to cheer me up, and I’m realizing just how happy Olivia is on her own, and how much she’s thriving. It’s given me the courage to make some pretty drastic changes in my own life, and while I’m terrified of upsetting the status quo I’m also rather excited about where I’m headed.

I pick up the phone and see that it’s a text from Amanda, asking me if I can meet her for lunch the next day. To say I’m surprised is an understatement. I haven’t seen or spoken to her since I left three weeks ago. I returned to the house to get the rest of my things but she said she would leave the spare key under the mat for me because she didn’t want to see me. I understood, of course. I don’t blame her one bit, but I’m surprised she’s reaching out. I thought she’d never want to speak to me again.

Maybe she’s ready to see me now and needs some closure. And I can give her that. It’s the least I can do after what I put her through.

When I reply asking where and when, I get a text back with an address and a time, but nothing more.

“Tory, tory,” Freddie chants, putting his chubby little hand on my cheek and raising the book. I set my phone back down and return my attention to him, pressing a kiss to his hair. Olivia is working today and I’m not, so I've got toddler duty, and that’s all right with me. I’m planning to move out soon but I have some things I need to take care of first.

When I arrive at the restaurant the following afternoon I spot Amanda at a two person table and make my way over to her, somewhat cautiously, I must admit. She looks tired when I reach her but she offers me a small smile and gestures for me to sit.

“Hello,” I say.

“Hi,” she replies, then bites her lip. She’s normally so confident, but she seems rather flustered now. “I’m guessing you were a little surprised to get my text?”

I nod.

“I uh…I just had some questions, if that’s okay?”

I nod again. She reaches into her purse and pulls out the note. I’d forgotten it in my haste to leave, and she must have picked it up when she got back home. Though I’m surprised she didn’t burn it or tear it apart and toss it in the waste bin. “This is yours,” she says, and my eyes widen as she reaches across the table and places it in front of me. My gaze shifts from the note to her.

“I read it again,” she says, stunning me even further. Tears fill her eyes and she wipes them away. “I was so focused the first time on the fact that my son was writing you a love letter, and I was so angry and hurt by the betrayal I felt, that I didn’t read the other things he said. But I did this time. The way he talked like he knew a version of you I never did. Like you shared something with him, pieces of yourself I had never known. He talked like he knew the real Oliver. An Oliver that I didn't realize was hurting so much, struggling so much, because he believed that who he was wasn’t worthy or loveable, and so he tried to be something else. And when that didn’t work, he did something he never thought he would do. And I’m sorry, Oliver, that you felt like you had to put on a mask to make other people happy.”

I shake my head. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”

She wipes the tears from her cheeks and continues. “I’m not saying I forgive you. I don’t know if that will happen any time soon, but I’m saying that you are a good person, and I recognize that, and so is my son, and even though I want to strangle you both, I don’t want to hold on to anger or resentment, and I’m trying my best to understand the position you were in, how trapped you felt. I just wish you had said something sooner.”

I shake my head again as tears fill my eyes. “You don’t have to say that,” I tell her. “I’m not a good person, and I don’t deserve any of your understanding. I’m so sorry, Amanda, for not saying something sooner. For so many things.”

“Well, you can thank your sister for the understanding,” she tells me and my eyes widen.

“What?”

“She called me a while back to see how I was doing, said she had found out what happened. And when I got done telling her what an asshole her brother was, she asked if we could meet. When I agreed, she listened to me, and then asked if she could share a little bit about your household growing up. She did, and I realized that there were a lot of things about your parents I wasn’t aware of, like how incredibly homophobic they are, and all the things they said to you both growing up. Things that would have made a gay teenager terrified of acknowledging his sexuality. I couldn’t believe some of the things she told me. And I can’t believe I never knew. I mean I know they’re a bit controlling, but God, I didn’t think they were pricks. Imagining Hunter growing up in that same environment, it made me sick.”

I chuckle softly and feel a warmth spread through my chest at the knowledge that Olivia did that for me.

“The other thing that was made very clear to me in that letter, is how much Hunter loves you. And while I don’t fully comprehend his actions, I don’t want to be the cause of you two not being together if that’s what you want. You deserve to be happy, Oliver. And if he makes you happy, then I want that for you.”

“You’re being far too kind, Amanda,” I tell her.

“Probably,” she agrees, “but I don’t see the point in wishing hardship on people who’ve already had their fair share, and he’s my son. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for him.”

“I believe you,” I say, as another tear slides down her cheek.

“You love him, don’t you?”

I nod, and my throat constricts. “Very much.”

“Then go to him, Oliver,” she tells me. “Make it right.”

Two days later

“Wish me luck,” I tell Olivia as I grab my keys and wallet. “I’m off to meet Mother and Father for dinner.”

“Good luck,” she says, fixing the collar of my dress shirt and then giving me a big hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you,” I say, squeezing her back. I sigh. “They’re not going to be happy.”

“When are they ever?” she says, and I chuckle. “Do you want me to go with you? I could bring Freddie along or see if someone can watch him.”

I shake my head. “No, I should go alone. This is something I need to do for myself. And I’ve decided to meet them in public so things hopefully will stay mostly civil.”

She nods. “You know I support you. Be brave.”

I give her one more hug before heading out the door.

When I enter the restaurant where I’ve asked Mother and Father to meet me, I tell the hostess who I’m with and she directs me to their table. They’re sitting next to each other and I steel myself before sliding into the chair opposite them.

“Nice of you to join us, son,” Father starts off. “We’ve been waiting here for fifteen minutes. Almost got up and left.”

“What’s going on, Oliver?” Mother pipes up. “You’ve been ignoring our calls and texts for weeks. Your sister told us the wedding was canceled but that can’t be true.”

“Yes, your mother was very upset by that news,” Father says, scowling at me. “Surely Olivia was mistaken.”

You’re allowed to disappoint them . “She wasn’t,” I say. “The wedding is off. Amanda and I aren’t getting married. I’m in love with someone else.” Fuck, my heart is racing but I bloody did it.

Their eyes practically light up, no doubt assuming I’m referring to some woman a decade younger than me who will be utterly ecstatic about the idea of giving them grandchildren.

“Well, don't keep us waiting, dear,” Mother says. “Tell us about her.”

I wiggle my toes, clenching and unclenching my fists on my lap, then take a deep breath. “Actually, it’s a him.”

They both stare at me, like they’re sure they heard me wrong.

“I beg your pardon?” Mother says.

“He’s joking, darling,” Father says. “Our son isn’t gay.”

I grit my teeth. “Actually, Father, I am.”

He balks. “Preposterous. Since when?”

“My entire bloody life, but you two were always too narrow minded to even consider the fact that you might have a queer child,” I hiss.

“This is absurd,” Father retorts, his voice a harsh whisper. “You are not gay, Oliver. You were engaged to a woman. I don’t understand. You know better. Why would you choose to do this? To upset us like this?”

“Choose to upset you?” I say. “Being gay isn’t a choice, Father, it’s who I bloody am, and it took me until I was thirty-six to tell you because I knew you would respond this way.”

“Respond in what way?” he asks, appalled.

“Make it about yourself,” I tell him. “Tell me how wrong I am. Try to deny it.”

“I don’t know what you want, Oliver,” Mother says, crying now.

“I want you to love me, for me,” I tell her, almost shouting. This conversation has derailed rather quickly. “All my life I’ve done what you wanted me to do and been who you expected me to be. I’ve done everything I can to earn your love and it still wasn't enough. I got good grades. I went to the school you wanted me to go to. I got the bloody job you wanted me to get even though I fucking hated it. I dated who I knew you would want me to date. I lied to myself and everyone around me for years about who I was because you made me feel like being gay was the worst possible thing I could be; Like my existence offended you; Like I was less than human because of my sexuality. And I fucking believed you. But then I met a man who saw the real me and loved me for who I was, encouraged me to be me. Told me that I was worthy and good and that I deserved to be happy, even if it meant disappointing my parents. And even though he probably never wants to see me again after the way I treated him I am going to do my bloody best to get him back because he is what makes me happy.”

“You’re serious?” Father says as tears slide down my cheeks. “Well, that’s ungratefulness for you. We’ve only ever wanted what was best for you, Oliver. I don’t know why you can’t see that. It’s not right, a man being with another man.”

“Christ,” I mutter, wiping the tears away, and pulling my chair back to stand. “I don’t have anything else to say. I’m going after Hunter. When you two get your heads out of your arses, let me know.”

Mother’s eyes widen and Father snarls.

“You’re choosing that boy over us? Over your own family?”

“No, Father,” I say, scooting my chair back in. “I’m choosing me.” Then I turn to walk away, but before I do I look back at them and say, “And by the way, I quit my job.”