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“Are you ready?” Donovan asked.
As much as I would ever be. “Yeah, I am. I just need him to know why.”
“I’m here with you if you need any help. Just breathe and let it out.”
“I know, and I appreciate it.”
Cole came back in and sat down next to me. “How do you feel? Headache? Nausea?”
Smiling, I shook my head. “No headache. I’m just nervous.”
Cole looked worried. “If you need to stop, just tell me, okay? Don’t overdo it.”
“Yes, Dr. Bradley. You’ve been hanging out with Simon too much.”
Cole’s face lit up with humor.
I reached for his hand and brought it to my mouth for a kiss. It smelled like bathroom hand soap and his cologne. Simple reminders of him settled my nerves. So I took a deep, calming breath, and released my mind from the prison it had been held in for so long. I held his hand in mine for as long as he would let me.
“You remember my mom’s brother, Daniel?”
“Yes. He died when we were in high school, right?”
I nodded. “Yes, he did. Before he died, he was the only person I ever told about my feelings for you. After we kissed the first time in the tent, I went home the next morning and called him. I knew he was gay, and I figured if anyone could help me sort through things, he could.”
Cole squeezed my hand. That small gesture gave me what I needed to go on.
“After I talked to him, I was never afraid of my feelings for you, or what could happen as a result of those feelings. He told me he was happy that I’d found someone I loved that strongly. But he also felt like he needed to warn me. Daniel told me about some of the things he’d been through when people found out he was gay. How it started as snide comments and whispered words under their breath. It wasn’t long before it grew into hateful things that he didn’t deserve. So every time we talked, he kept saying, ‘Keep your business to yourself, Patrick. No one needs to know your personal life. Just keep your guy safe.’ He said it so many times over the two years before he died that he’d basically drilled it into my head. No matter what I did in life, I had to protect you.”
I stared off, unblinking as I heard Daniel’s words repeated in my mind. Donovan leaned forward in his chair. “Patrick, are you okay?”
Calling my name took me out of the loop I was in. I nodded and took in calming breaths to steady the rising panic from those painful memories.
“Babe, you don’t have to tell me,” Cole pleaded. “It’s okay.”
I shook my head as the nausea crept up on me. If I could just get it out, then I’d be okay.
“No, it’s not, Cole. I’ve let it rule my life for way too long. The reason I’ve kept us in the closet for so long is because of Daniel and the way he died. He and his boyfriend were cornered after they left a movie. They were brutally beaten and then dumped off in the parking lot at the hospital. I’ll never forget the look on my mother’s face when we arrived at the hospital and she saw him. His eyes were swollen shut and turning black and blue. There were cuts all over his face, more bruises, and a busted lip. It was so bad we couldn’t open the casket for the funeral. She kept crying and saying she should have protected him and made him come to Seattle. They died that night because of who they loved.”
Tears filled my eyes as I let myself think about him and the terror they must have gone through. “I couldn’t take that chance with you, Cole. And even though I thought we’d be safe in Portland, and I promised, I still couldn’t do it. Every time it crossed my mind, I’d start to panic. Keeping quiet would protect you.”
I was shaking by the time Cole pulled me into his arms as we both cried for them.
“It’s okay, Patrick. I understand now.”
He held me as tight as he could while I breathed him in. When he finally released me, he gripped my hand tightly.
“Hate is a powerful weapon. The longer I held it in, the more fearful I became. But I learned to repress it over the years. Donovan is helping me figure out how to cope with the PTSD.”
Cole reached for me and held on even tighter than before. When he pulled back, the way he looked at me had changed.
“Why didn’t your parents seek counseling for all of you?”
I shrugged, but Donovan answered for me.
“There’s been a perceived stigma around seeking counseling for a long time. Most people still believe it’s a sign of weakness to seek help when it’s actually the opposite. It’s easier to push down and ignore those experiences rather than face them head-on. We have to look at it from a new perspective. You wouldn’t let diabetes go untreated or you could risk severe consequences. Why would we let the mind go the same way?”
Cole ran his hands over my cheeks and looked into my eyes. “I’m so proud of you.”
