Unwrapped

“Together?All of you?”

“Have you gone gay?”

And his favorite, from Cait’s mother: “Did I go to bed and wake up in hell?”

Tristan, he decided, was a fucking lunatic. Why else would he have thought this style of reveal made sense? Sure, they'd knocked off everyone at once, but mass conversational pandemonium didn’t lend itself to clear heads.

The wild chatter began to die off soon enough. Once the dust settled, a lot of people didn’t seem all that surprised by the news. But the ones who were made up for all the rest.

“You would ruin Christmas with this rubbish?” Dale Baldwin roared, scattering the other streams of conversation like fallen leaves during a windstorm.

“It’s not rubbish,” Tristan said, his voice positively icy. It matched the glacial chill in his eyes. “I know it’s Christmas, and I also knew some of you would have a problem with this. That’s your decision. Ours is to be happy together with the support of those who are happy for us.”

Matt swallowed. Lunatic or not, the guy had a way with words. And balls of damn steel, both in and out of the bedroom.

“We’re not hurting anyone,” Matt added, surprised to hear his own voice rise above the din. “Some of you might be disappointed, and we understand that. We had to make a choice between our happiness or staying safe. We went with being happy.”

Tristan threw him a grateful glance. Tristan’s father, on the other hand, glared.

“I lost my daughter already. I sure as hell didn’t expect to lose my son to being—”

“Don’t say it.” Cait shot to her feet so fast that even Dale did a doubletake. Cait’s younger sister Val came to stand beside her in silent solidarity. “You’re shocked, and you’re hurting over what isn’t. But don’t ruin what can be with words he’ll never be able to unhear.”

“What about marriage and children?”

When Cait frowned, Matt rose and wrapped an arm around her waist. She sagged against him, leaning in enough to tell him she appreciated the support. “We’ll figure all that out when the time comes. Whatever we decide, it’ll be our choice, regardless of what anyone else doesn’t agree with.”

Tristan nodded. “We’ll make that decision just like we make every other decision. Together.”

Dale opened his mouth to say more, then grunted and shook his head. A moment later, he stormed out of the room, his wife hot on his heels.

Tristan’s younger brother, Steve, came over to speak with him. Though Matt couldn’t hear what was said, that Steve squeezed Tris’s arm before he also left the room was encouraging.

Tristan came to sit on the arm of the couch as Matt and Cait again took their seats beside Matt’s mom. “That went well,” he said in an undertone.

“You were very brave,” Mrs. Collins murmured, drawing all their gazes.

Matt said nothing. At the moment he wasn’t sure of anything, except that he loved Cait and Tris. Everything else seemed muddy.

“Honey, I’m not mad at you.”

Matt looked at his mom, who’d looped her arm around Cait. Yet again he didn’t know how to respond. He was pretty sure no one wanted him to make some sarcastic comment to break the tension.

“I would never cut you out of my life for being who you are. I love you. Just like I love Cait and Tristan. If you think this is what you want…”

“It is,” he said, relieved that she didn’t seem to expect more.

She wrapped her free arm around him, kissing his forehead just as she had when he was little. “Make each other happy, and I’ll be happy too,” she added shakily, taking Tristan’s hand over Matt’s shoulder.

Cait’s family encircled them next, and to his utter relief, Cait’s mom didn’t seem too pissed. Most of her irritation seemed directed at her youngest daughter. He would’ve wondered why, but he had his own problems.

When the Sachs mentioned collecting the kids and heading out, Matt rose, deciding they’d all had enough fun for one Christmas. “You guys ready too?”

Cait linked hands with Val and whispered something to her little sister. Then she glanced at Matt and Tris. “Sure. Let’s go.”

Tristan nodded, taking one last look in the direction that his parents had gone before grabbing his keys. “Disaster?” he asked Matt, his voice low.

Matt shrugged and eyed the undisturbed gun case. “Could’ve been worse.”