His Secret

by Isabel Lucero

I don’t hug many people. Not like this. This is good for my soul. It breaks me open and fills me with warmth and comfort. I feel both elated and heartbroken. I never want to let him go, but he’s not mine. I want to cry, and I don’t know if it’s because I’m so happy or terribly sad. Adrian squeezes me and makes a quiet noise in his throat. His hands run up and down my back, and then the fingers of my left hand dance across his shoulders, finding place at the nape of his neck. I comb them through the strands of his hair, and his body shivers. “This isn’t weird,” I whisper next to his ear. “No,” he says in a quiet voice. “It feels like home.” My heart cracks open, bleeding into my chest.

He rubs his hand over his chest, right over his heart. “You can’t ask me to tell you to walk away, because I remember what it feels like to be the one left behind, and I’ve been waiting for you to come back to me for a long time. If you want me. Truly. Without reservation or fear, come to me and tell me, and I’ll be waiting.”

I’ll be the one in control now.

Omg nooooo sobsssss

How could Dad do that? How could Mom let him? Because you’re gay? Jesus fuck, everyone is gay.” “What?” I ask with a laugh.