Page 9 of A Coffee Away

I rubbed my temple. “You know what, Dad? I don’t care. This is all for you, and I’m fucking done with it.” I straightened and raised an eyebrow, looking into his green eyes. “I mean exactly what I said.” I shrugged. “I have a date, so I’m not going.”

There it was. The punch.

My heart thundered beneath my strong countenance.

My courage was just a front. Inside, I was a mess.

God help me.

Dad tilted his head. “A date? She can come with us if she wants. After brunch, you can take her out on your own.”

I stilled, my jaw clenched as I studied him.

Didn’t they hear me yesterday?

Did my father see it as another slipup? A mistake? A sin I would redeem by going to church?

But God knew me for who I was. He accepted me. He loved me. Not like my parents.

I closed my eyes and breathed in deeply. Slowly. Letting the clean air calm my senses.

I gripped my coquí mug and faced my father. “What did you just say?”

“That she can come with us. Have your date later.” Dad continued eating his oatmeal.

I dropped my sandwich and stood, the chair screeching behind me. “What about last night?”

Dad rubbed his brow. “What about it?”

I looked at Mom. She watched Dad as if I was not there.

A knife stabbed my heart. “Mom?”

She didn’t look at me.

A thousand stones fell on my stomach. My own mother was taking Dad’s side. I mean, I didn’t expect her to accept it immediately. Her beliefs were strong, and she’d need time. But her love was unconditional. She’d always defend me.

When I was a teenager, even though she didn’t ask, she’d come to me if I was sad and tell me I could always talk to her. When I refused to study medicine like Dad wanted me to, she took my side and convinced him I should study what made me happy. I was almost sure she knew about my true feelings, but she never said anything to hurt me. I expected her to at least give me a chance. To listen.

But this…

They both heard me last night, but they decided to ignore it.

Dad ate nonchalantly, finishing his meal as if nothing had happened.

No.

If he thought I’d fall for his tactics and back down, he was wrong.

I breathed in and out, letting the oxygen flow through me, then put my palms on the table. “Yesterday it took everything in me to tell you. To say out loud what I’ve been keeping inside for years.” I fisted my hands and darted my eyes between them.

Mom still wouldn’t look at me.

“I’m gay, Mom. Dad’s known for years. He kept it from you and told me it was just a phase.”

Mom shifted in her seat and eyed Dad, who stared at his empty plate.

“I’m gay. I like men. It’s who I am, and I’m done feeling ashamed. I’m done feeling guilty. It’s okay to be gay. I’m not a sinner, and God loves me for who I am.”