Chapter Twenty-Five

CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Corbin

“So now you’re ordained?” Imani asked after I told her about getting ready for Parker and Elliott’s wedding.

“Yep!” I beamed. It didn’t matter to me that they were already married. If I was performing this ceremony, I was doing it right. Plus, maybe this would be something I did now. It could be fun.

“Good for you,” she replied, and then we chatted a bit before getting into the hard stuff. “How do you feel your progress with food is coming along?”

I shrugged. “Better, I think. Spencer and I are making weekly meal plans like you suggested. We go shopping together every Sunday morning before I go to Marcus’s to record The Vers. Keeping it real…sometimes I do skip meals, and I’ve also tried to forget a few times, but Spencer doesn’t fall for that.” I chuckled, but then it melted into appreciation. He was so fucking supportive. I’d been lucky enough to be blessed with the best friends in the world, and now I had the best boyfriend. Maybe that said something about me too. Maybe I was doing something right. If I really were so bad, I wouldn’t have those incredible people who loved me. “I’m also trying to come up with a schedule on social media so I post less. I turned off comments too. I still scrutinize every aspect of the photo and wonder what people think, but I’m trying.” As small as the steps felt, I was moving forward. I felt better than I had in a long time, maybe ever.

“It’s a process. Nothing changes overnight. It takes consistent work, which you’re putting in. You should be proud of yourself, Corbin. Slow and steady. You got this.”

I grinned. “I mean…is it really a surprise? I’m pretty awesome.”

“You are.”

From there, Imani went a little deeper into how my struggles with food and body image were tied to my self-esteem and connected to my family. This wasn’t the first time we were discussing it, and even before she and I had started working through my complicated feelings about my family, I’d known that was true.

“Have you talked to them?”

“My mom has tried. My siblings and I haven’t spoken at all, but that’s nothing new. We live in the same town, but for as long as I can remember, I only talk to them when we’re with our parents. My brother and sister are close, but I…I just always had the Beach Bums.”

“How does that make you feel?”

“Like shit,” I replied, then shrugged. “But it is what it is. Mom calls. I ignore her most of the time, but when we do talk, it’s brief and like nothing happened. We’re good at ignoring important topics in my family…or only bringing up what I do wrong.”

“Do you want to tell them how you feel? Do you want more from your relationship with them?”

I thought for a moment. The answer wasn’t clear right away. Things were confusing and complicated. What I wanted was a relationship like Spencer had with his family, like I had with them too. We’d gone over for a barbecue a week ago, and it was perfect and fun and ridiculous, three of my favorite things. That wasn’t something I could ever have with my family. We were different. I flashed back to an evening with Spencer a couple of weeks back, of telling him about sharing a skin routine with my mom and how I missed that.

“I’d like to have the best relationship with them that I can, but only if they can treat me the way I’m learning I deserve to be treated. Spencer makes me feel so good inside, that I realize how bad it was before. I want to hold on to the good stuff. I want my smiles to be real. I don’t want anyone to make me feel bad about how I am.”

“Do you want to tell them?” she asked again.

Again, I thought for a moment, but this one was quick. I wanted to tell them, but I also needed to. One step in front of the other, every pace necessary for me to be as healthy as I could be. “I do,” I admitted.

“You got this,” Imani said again.

More and more each day, I was beginning to see that she was right.

*     *     *

“So…remember that timeI thought it was a good idea for my whole family to meet me at my parents’ house so I could tell them all sorts of personal shit and basically give them an ultimatum?” I asked Spencer, my leg bouncing in the passenger seat of his car. “Not so sure that was a good idea.”

“I remember that time you asked your family to meet you so you could discuss ways you’ve been hurting and how they have contributed to that, so that you can work on mending your relationship if they’re willing to treat you the way you deserve…and if not, so you can continue healing yourself because no one fucking deserves it more than you.”

My heart tried to break down my chest wall with powerful, passionate beats.

Because of him.

“Wow…that was good. How’d you learn to do that?”

“They taught it in my advanced-placement, world’s-best-boyfriend class. Clearly, I killed it.”

A chuckle sneaked past my fear. “No shit. I’d be jealous if I wasn’t the one receiving said world’s best boyfriend’s behavior. Usually, I want to be the best at everything, but when it’s my man who’s captured the honor, I can’t say there aren’t some perks in it for me.”

Spencer reached over, placed a hand on my thigh, and squeezed. “I think we’re both killing it.”

“Must be meant to be,” I replied, and damned if this back-and-forth with him didn’t ease some of my nerves. “Thank you for coming with me.”

Spencer pulled up to the curb in front of my childhood home. “There’s nowhere I won’t go with you, Corb. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”

“Including hiding the body?” I teased.

“I’d burn the whole world down for you if I had to.”

Thump, thump, thump.Okay, what happened if one’s heart actually beat out of their chest? Mine was dangerously close. “Oh.”

“Basically speechless? That’s a first.”

“Give me a minute. I’m trying to come up with something to say.”

We chuckled before we were leaning over to kiss each other, words not needed.

“Lots of snuggles tonight, no matter what happens,” Spencer whispered in my ear.

“Lots of snuggles every night. Always.”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

We got out of the car. I made sure to take Spencer’s hand. The kids wouldn’t be here, of course, and everyone inside knew who Spencer was to me, but it was important that we walked into that house in a way they couldn’t deny us.

I knocked, and it was my dad who answered, which meant they were putting up a strong front. They felt attacked despite the fact that I wasn’t the one who had spent his life telling them they weren’t good enough, but hey, at least we love you anyway!

“Dad,” I said.

“Corbin.” His eyes shot to Spencer. “I thought this was a family thing.”

“Spencer is my family. He’s my partner and I love him.”

Dad sighed but stepped aside and let us in.

Spencer squeezed my hand in support.

Mom, Blaine, and Emma were waiting in the living room.

“Corbin. It’s so good to see you!” Mom stood and pulled me into a hug, my hand disconnecting from Spencer’s. “It’s been too long. You can’t stay away so long.” Her voice was filled with sincerity, and that’s what made this so hard—I knew my mom loved me. I believed they all did, but they couldn’t get past their beliefs, and that kind of love wasn’t healthy for me.

“I know, Mom.”

Spencer and I sat on the love seat. It felt like a standoff, the four of them on one side of the room, us on the other.

“Are you here to tell us how terrible we are again?” Blaine asked. “Because we’re doing our best with the situation. We love you, Corbin. We’ve always loved you.”

“The situation?” I asked. “Is my sexuality a situation? Or was my weight a situation? Who I am isn’t something for you guys to handle…or accept…or manage. Do you know how hard it was for me growing up? To know that I was something my family considered wrong? To be tortured at school every fucking day of my life, only to come home and have my food managed when no one else’s was or to be forced on the treadmill. To constantly hear comments about being careful so I don’t put on more weight, when this should have been my safe place from all the shit I heard out there?”

“We didn’t know you were bullied at school! You didn’t tell us!” Mom defended.

“Because I didn’t feel like I could. Because to me, I was bullied here too.” My eyes stung, but I did my best to fight back the tears, did my best to speak around the knot in my throat and to hear past the blood rushing through my ears.

“I think that’s going a little too far,” Dad said. “We didn’t bully you. We love you, and we want what’s best for you. There’s nothing wrong with wanting you to be healthy.”

What they had done to me wasn’t healthy, though.

“Maybe that’s what it felt like to you, but that’s not how it felt to me.” No one spoke for a moment. Spencer’s hand was on my back, massaging soft circles. I felt their eyes on me. Their disappointment in me because I wasn’t like Emma and Blaine. How they wished I were someone else.

But I didn’t feel that from the man beside me. He loved me for who I was.

“I hated myself,” I admitted softly. “Sometimes I still do, but I cover it up with jokes and smiles, trying to be the most charming guy around. I tell myself I don’t feel that way if people are paying attention to me online or men want to sleep with me. I skip meals and obsess about my body, scared to put on a single pound. I defend how you make me feel because of your beliefs, and I try to pretend it doesn’t hurt because you love me, but… Love shouldn’t have a but, or an even though. Love isn’t supposed to make you feel bad about who you are, or like you’re a disappointment. Love is supposed to build you up.”

Love was Marcus telling me I was beautiful when I needed to hear it. Love was him running his fingers through my hair, while my head rested on his lap, because I was safe there. Love was Parker finding me that day when I’d tripped in marching band, and befriending the boy everyone else made fun of. It was him searching for new recipes for healthier treats just for me. Love was Declan splitting his extra cookie with me that day when Mom let him have more than me, and him trying to beat up any boy in high school who gave me shit. Love was Beach Bum hugs and hours spent laughing.

Love was Gael bringing me new books to read and asking how therapy went and sharing his journey with me.

It was Elliott praising Parker, and his willingness to stick by my friend when in the beginning, Parker didn’t feel he was worthy of Elliott’s love. It was Kai encouraging my relationship with Marcus and loving him more because of it. It was Sebastian taking Declan to Idaho and giving him a family and never expecting Dec to be anything other than who he was.

And most of all, love was Spencer holding me every single night, even before he understood why I needed it. It was him changing how he shopped to do what was good for me, and adding meal planning because it was best for me, and the fact that when I asked him to come with me today, he said yes, but also told me it was okay if I needed it to be Marcus.

Love was people who made you feel beautiful when you couldn’t see it. It wasn’t acceptance. Love was affirmation.

No one wanted to accept that the people who were supposed to love you unconditionally could be the same people who made you feel emotionally unsafe, but unless they changed, that was my truth. I wasn’t emotionally safe with them, and I had to do what was best for me.

“If we’re going to have a relationship, I need you to stop commenting on what I eat…and no jokes about chubby Corbin.”

“Okay,” Emma said. “We can do that. I didn’t realize…I’m sorry. I didn’t—”

“That’s not all,” I interrupted. “You have to accept Spencer as my partner and call him that, even to the kids. He has to be treated like family. And no asking me to go to church or telling me you’re disappointed that I don’t. I don’t want to hear how you want to spend eternity with me, but if I don’t change my ways, I’m going to hell.”

“That’s not fair, Corbin. You’re asking us to change our belief system.”

And maybe it wasn’t fair, and maybe I was asking that, but… “I have to put me first. I deserve that. It’s what I need.”

The look on their faces said it all, the way they wouldn’t look me in the eyes and didn’t speak. Tears threatened to come, but I fought them off. I had love in my life, with or without them, if they couldn’t give it to me. Maybe one day, but not yet. As much as that hurt, I would deal with it.

For the second time, I left their house with my head held high, Spencer’s hand in mine. But this time, I was free.