Page 7 of A Coffee Away

“But nothing, Roberto.”

I swallowed dryly and looked out the window. Club lights made the city come alive. Music called people to dance and let go. I stared at a laughing gay couple. The two men unapologetically held each other’s hands.

On the other side, two women kissed against a wall.

My father tsked. “Never again.” He jerked the car into the residential areas of Condado.

In no time, we entered our garage.

He turned off his Jaguar, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. “Sin calls to us, but you’re not like that. Don’t let yourself fall prey to this.” He left the car, leaving me broken and confused.

We never spoke about it again.

Mom cradled my face in her delicate hands, pulling me from the memory of that night. “Are you all right, hijo?”

Jazz music reached me from inside. The beat from the double bass calmed my nerves. There was something about how it was in the background, barely audible but as important as the other instruments. Its rhythm called to my soul in the deepest sense.

“Vivi, is that Roberto?” Dad’s voice filtered outside before he stood by the door in a black V-neck shirt and gray sweatpants.

He crossed his arms. His sandy-blond hair, the same color as mine, was elegantly cropped, and his close shave left a shadow of stubble. He fixed his glasses, a tic he had whenever he was annoyed. “Where were you?”

Mom sighed and put her palm against his muscled chest. “Love, let him explain.”

Dad exhaled, snaking his arm around her waist. “Okay, mi amor.”

They watched me.

I didn’t share their views on life, but I still loved them. If only they could feel the same way.

I had to come clean. I had to!

“I was with a guy.”

Mom smiled. “Oh. You met a friend.”

“No.” My voice cracked. My heart hammered so hard it hurt. “We have a date tomorrow.”

Dad raised an eyebrow. “I think I misheard you. You must have meant a girl.”

I took a deep breath, rolled my shoulders back, and steadied myself. “No, Dad. You heard me right.”

My heart slammed against my ribcage. The ability to speak left me for a moment, but I gathered all the courage I could and willed my body to calm down.

It was now or never. “I’m gay.”

They froze, eyes wide.

Dad’s face twisted. He grabbed my arm, his grip hard. “You’re joking.” Not a question. A warning.

“Hijo?” Mom covered her mouth and stepped back, a single tear sliding down her cheek.

Dad scowled. “You…” His voice cracked.

A weight crushed my chest.

I yanked my arm free, breathing rapidly, vision blurring. I didn’t wait for them to speak. I couldn’t. I sprinted up the stairs and into my room, slamming the door behind me.

My hands trembled, and I sank to the floor. I couldn’t breathe, and my stomach dropped.