When The Walls Come Down: Hot Dam Homes Book Two by Harper Robson

Author:Harper Robson [Robson, Harper]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Harper Robson
Published: 2022-10-13T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 19

REED

Dylan looks shocked when I blurt out that I’m never going to visit my family. Not for Thanksgiving… not ever.

I know I need to be up-front with him about my messy family, and I know he’ll be understanding, but even thinking about them ramps up my anxiety, and talking about them is even worse.

“I haven’t spoken to my family in a long time,” I say. “I think I told you they couldn’t accept my sexuality, but I didn’t really explain the whole story.” Setting my juice down, I suck in a deep breath before focusing on Dylan.

“My parents were—are, I guess—very religious, and our household wasn’t exactly a place full of joy. My father was a big believer in the whole ‘fire and brimstone, sinners will burn in the fiery pits of hell’ dogma, so, as you can imagine, that wasn’t a great environment for a gay kid.”

Dylan nods, his eyes kind.

“I had feelings about other boys from when I was pretty young, maybe eleven or twelve years old. But even before I knew what those feelings meant, I was taught that they were evil, the work of the devil trying to tempt me into sin.” I roll my eyes as I always do when I think about this stuff because even after all this time, it’s just so unbelievable to me that such ridiculous, evil bullshit is what people tell little children to scare them away from being themselves.

“I don’t really know how my father knew I had inappropriate feelings about other boys. It’s not like I ever acted on them, but maybe I looked at boys too much, I don’t know, but somehow, he knew.”

Reaching across the table, Dylan covers my trembling hand with his. This is exactly why I don’t talk about my family. Turning my palm over, I lace our fingers together and grasp onto his like it’s a lifeline.

“So,” I continue, “part of the reason I don’t do well with holidays is because things that brought joy didn’t go along well with the whole fire-and-brimstone theme my father had going. Holidays were about extra trips to church for more scary sermons, not presents and Santa Claus.”

Blowing out a sigh, I pause, reaching for my orange juice.

“My mother once told me that when they first met, my father was a rule breaker; religion wasn’t part of his life at all. Then, when I realized my birthday is only six months after their wedding anniversary, it became clear that I was an accident, conceived out of wedlock.”

Dylan nods cautiously. “Oh. Is that something that bothers you?”

I shake my head. “Not at all. It makes no difference to me, but it explains why they ended up married, even though they always seemed to hate each other’s guts.”

Dylan nods, compassion on his face.

“Anyway, they were miserable together, and in some fucked-up way, I think they both blamed me for the fact that they were stuck together. I don’t think my mom hated me quite as much as my dad did, but she never tried to stop him from hurting me.

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