35

Three days had passed since I’d run into Noah outside the gym and then had my revelation in my bedroom. Noah had barely spoken more than a couple of words to me since, not that I blamed him. I knew that we were both keeping our distance from each other until these feelings went away.

Except they weren’t going away. Not on my part, anyway.

My head hurt, I couldn’t sleep, and my thoughts were going round and round in circles. I couldn’t concentrate on anything, and I was so fucking miserable all the time.

I needed to see my mum.

She was still at work when I parked my VW Golf on the driveway of the red-brick semi-detached in Purley, south London, early Friday evening. Using my key, I let myself into the house and made my way straight up to my childhood bedroom. It had been redecorated when I moved out, the blues and blacks I’d preferred as a teenager replaced with soft greys, but my mum had still kept some of my stuff in here. There was a shelf containing my football trophies, and my old PS4 games were still piled on the bookshelf, with the PS4 itself next to the TV that sat on the desk. The noticeboard still held the ticket I’d kept when I’d gone to see England play Poland in the World Cup qualifiers, and just above it was a printed photo of myself and a group of my school friends, right after we’d finished our final exams and left school for good. On the bedside table was a framed photo of me with my dad on the beach, taken during a summer holiday to St Ives in Cornwall when I was five. He was holding my arms above my head, both of us grinning, with a huge sandcastle in front of us.

A wave of sadness and nostalgia hit me, and I collapsed onto my bed, suddenly exhausted. Fuck, I hadn’t realised just how much I’d needed to get away until I was back in the place I’d grown up.

I closed my eyes, and the memories came. Snapshots from my life, flashing through my mind—my dad, my mum, family and friends, and later, girls.

How did Noah fit it into it all? How could I have not realised that there was this part of me, the part that made me want him? I’d always known I was straight. I hadn’t even considered another way.

Until him.

He’d shown up in my life and completely blindsided me, and everything had changed.

There was a lump in my throat, and it was getting bigger the more I thought about it all. I’d been pushing these feelings back—I’d locked them away, unable to face them, but now they were spilling out of me.

I blinked hard. My vision grew blurry, and the first tear fell, running down my face and soaking into my pillow.

Curling into a ball, I bit down on my lip, trying to stifle the tears, but another fell, and then another.

“Liam?”

I hadn’t even heard the footsteps in the hallway or my door opening, but as I lifted my face from where it was buried in the pillow, I saw my mum.

“Oh, Liam.” She sank down onto the bed, and even though we weren’t normally affectionate with each other, she didn’t even hesitate to wrap one arm around my back and leaned down to kiss my head like my dad used to do when I was a kid.

I fucking broke.

Right there in my childhood bedroom, with my mum holding me, I cried. Cried like I hadn’t done for years.

When I eventually stopped, I swiped my hand across my face and raised my eyes to my mum’s. “Sorry,” I whispered.

“Liam, no. You have nothing to be sorry about. What’s wrong, love?” She smoothed her hand over my hair, concern written all over her face.

“I’ve—I’ve messed everything up.” My voice cracked. “Everything’s gone wrong, and I don’t know how to fix it.”

Her eyes took on a steely look that I’d seen directed at people on my behalf before. If there was anyone who wronged me in her eyes, she’d go to war. “Tell me everything, and we’ll fix it.”

“I don’t even know where to start.”

“The beginning is a good place,” she suggested gently.

“O-okay.” I cleared my throat. “It started when I was parking my car at uni, and this guy crashed into me…”

The story spilled out of me, everything that had happened. Minus the sex details, because that was not the kind of thing I wanted to share with my parent.

At the end, I was so fucking wrung out that I felt like I could just curl up and sleep for a week. I looked up at my mum, hopeless.

“Liam…” She gave me a sad smile. “It sounds to me like you have very strong feelings for this boy.”

“But, Mum, how could I?” My fucking voice cracked again, and fresh tears filled my eyes. “How could I not know that I liked boys until now? What if people look at me differently? What if… Will you still love me if I’m… If I’m g-gay? Bi? Whatever I am? Would Dad still love me if he was here? I—I know he wanted me to settle down with a girl.” Fuck, I was crying again now.

Her hand flew to her mouth, and she shook her head violently. “Liam, no. Don’t think like that. I will always love you. Always,” she said fiercely. “You’re my son, and I’m so proud of you. I know your dad isn’t here anymore, but I was with that man for fourteen years, and I can tell you for a fact that he wouldn’t care what your sexual orientation is. We just wanted you to be happy. That’s all we ever wanted for you.”

“Mum—”

Holding up a hand, she stopped me in my tracks. “I haven’t finished yet. I owe you an apology. I know that I’ve always mentioned you settling down with a girl, and I know I always told you that was what your dad would have wanted. It wasn’t… I guess we both just assumed that was what would happen at some point in the future, and I take full responsibility for the part I’ve played in the struggles you’ve been going through. I’m so, so sorry. I never meant for you to feel like I wouldn’t love you or accept you for who you are. Because I do accept you. You’re my son, and I want you to hear me right now. I love you, and I accept you, and that will never change.”

Fuck. I rubbed my hand across my face, feeling the wetness from my tears under my palm. My voice came out as a whisper. “I don’t think I’m even interested in girls anymore. Nothing ever felt…it’s so different with Noah. I just don’t know how I couldn’t have known before. I don’t know what people are going to say or what they’ll think of me. I—I’m scared, Mum.”

Picking up my hand, she squeezed it gently. “The sad fact is that yes, there will inevitably be some people who look at you differently, but those people aren’t worth your time. You have so many people who support you, love. Don’t let yourself get dragged down by these negative thoughts. As for not knowing until now, everyone finds out things about themselves all the time. All the time. You remember Mr. Peterson, who lives at number 12? He comes to my book club?”

I nodded slowly. “Yeah…”

“Well, he came out just a couple of months ago. He’s in his forties, and he was married for almost eighteen years before he got divorced. He fell in love with his best friend sometime after the divorce, and from the sound of it, it came as a shock to both of them. But do you know what? I’ve never seen him happier in all the time I’ve known him.”

“Oh.”

“My point is, everything happens in its own time. Just because you weren’t aware of this part of yourself before doesn’t mean it didn’t exist. Sometimes it doesn’t even occur to us to think any differently until something unexpected happens to make us look at things in a new way.”

I gave her a wobbly smile. “When did you get so wise?”

“I’ve always been wise.” She smiled properly. “So. What are you going to do about Noah?”

Noah.

It was that exact moment that I realised just how hard and how far I’d fallen.

Fuck. He was everything.

And I’d fucked it all up.

My lip trembled, and I clamped down on it, covering my face with my hand. “I think I’ve ruined the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Nonsense.” Her hand patted my back. “From everything you’ve told me, it sounds as if he’s as into you as you are to him. You just need to prove to him that you want to be with him.”

A tiny, tentative hope unfurled within my chest. “I don’t even know if I can get him to speak to me.”

“Of course you can. You just have to show him you’re serious.” Tapping her fingers on her chin, she pursed her lips. “Maybe you could do a grand romantic gesture; that’ll make him listen. Oh! What about skywriting? Or hire a flash mob. Do people still do that?”

“Mum. No.”

But she was off on a tangent. “Did you see that proposal on YouTube where the guy got all those people to join in? It was that song by that singer…who was it now? Bruno Mars? ‘Marry You.’ Yes, that was it.”

“Mum! Proposals? Really?” Times like this reminded me just how much I missed my dad. So many of my memories of him were faded around the edges, but for some reason, I remembered clearly how my mum would go off on a tangent at the dinner table when I was little. My dad would humour her for a minute, rolling his eyes good-naturedly, and then steer the conversation in a different direction. We’d all end up laughing, and then afterwards, he’d sneak me some of his dessert when my mum wasn’t looking.

She gave a small laugh. “Sorry. No, no proposals. But maybe just a small flash mob?”

“No flash mobs. Ever.” A grin tugged at my lips, and it felt so fucking good after the emotional wringer I’d just been through. Pulling myself into a seated position, I hesitated for a second, and then put my arms around her. “Thanks.”

Hugging me back immediately, she placed a soft kiss to my head. “I love you, Liam, and I’m always here for you. Your dad would be too.”

“Love you too.” I sighed. “Wish me luck for when I see Noah again. I have a feeling I’m gonna need it.”