We got to our vehicles then, and Darren leaned against his car. “You’ve been quiet…keeping to yourself. You took off from the event the other night and didn’t tell me.”
“Just life, ya know? Training camp starts next month. It’s the last year of my contract, and we’re following up a Super Bowl win.”
He shrugged but didn’t seem convinced. “Yeah, okay. Whatever.”
“Hey.”
“It is what it is, Hawkins. You stew on shit. It’s what you’ve always done. Keep doing you, and when you’re ready, we’ll talk.”
I watched as Darren climbed into his vehicle and drove away.
I got into my car, and didn’t realize where I was going until I pulled up in front of my mom’s house. When I was younger, I always went to her when I needed to talk. Outside of being gay, there wasn’t much about me she didn’t know. It felt like we’d been a team—she and I—ever since my dad died. No one had ever supported me the way she had, and I had to believe this wouldn’t be any different.
Without letting myself think about it too much, I picked up my phone and shot a quick text to West.
Me: Hey, baby. I’m gonna be a little late.
Stalker: No worries. Send me a dick pic to get me by until you get home.
I smiled. Fuck, would he ever not be able to make me smile? Both his joke and seeing him call my house “home.”
Me: No.
Stalker: Spoilsport
Me: Why don’t you go practice your Call of Duty skills? You need it.
Stalker: New phone, who dis?
I grinned again, got out, and shoved my phone into my pocket.
I wasn’t going to let myself overthink it because…fuck, because I really needed her to know.
The door opened as soon as I hit the porch. “Look who’s here. I thought you were going to avoid your mama. You’ve been quiet.”
“I know. Football stuff.” I kissed her cheek, the lie bitter on my tongue. I was so damn tired of lying to people I loved. Elias finding out had been scary as hell but also freeing.
“What’s wrong?” Mom closed the door behind me.
“What makes you think something’s wrong?”
“Because you’re my son, and I know you.”
Not all of me, she didn’t, not a big part of me, and I knew that would come as a devastating blow to her. “I just…” Fuck. I should have thought this through more, but if I had, I wouldn’t have come. “Nothing’s wrong. I do need to talk to you, though, and I need you to try to understand where I’m coming from. This is important to me, Mama.”
She frowned, worry clear in her eyes and the wrinkles around them. “You’re scaring me, Anson.”
“No, no. Don’t be scared. Come here.” I took her hand and led her to the couch. We sat down, and when I tried to let go of her, she didn’t let me, clinging to me tightly.
“Whatever it is, you can tell me. You can always tell me anything.”
Fuck, I hoped so. Elias was right. It was shitty that we lived in a world where this mattered, where I had to be scared to talk to my own mom, where people had to come out and where others didn’t accept them.
Her eyes were already tearing up with worry, and I knew I just had to spit it out, just fucking say it because goddamn it had been trapped inside me for too long. “I’m gay, Mama. I’m gay, always have been. I tried to pretend I wasn’t, tried to tell myself I could fake it or find a woman to be happy with. I prayed to change it, but I couldn’t, and now…now I’ve met someone. I love him, and I don’t wanna pretend anymore. Not with you. Not about him. I don’t want to change anymore either.”
Her free hand shot up to her face and covered her mouth. It trembled as she sucked in a breath, the tears flowing freely from her eyes now.
“Are you sure?” she asked, her voice soft, and fuck if those three words didn’t shred my insides.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
“But you’ve dated women.”
“It was a lie.”
“Grandbabies…”
“West and I can still have babies if we want. There are ways, but I don’t know if I want that, and I don’t know if he does either.”
She let go of my hand, placed both of hers in her lap, looked down. I could see the disappointment in the curve of her shoulders, and it fucking hurt.
“You love football. You know how the world works, Anson.”
“I’m not coming out publicly right now.” But I would have to. At some point, I would have to. “I’m tired, so damn tired of trying to be someone I’m not. Of feeling empty inside, like the world is going on without me and I can’t really be a part of it. Like I won’t ever be able to just breathe and be happy. When I’m on the field, I can forget it, but the second I step off, it’s always there. I don’t want to be alone anymore.”