27. Tristan
TWENTY-SEVEN
TRISTAN
Today's the day—the day Myles and I are finally going to tell Nix we're boyfriends.
"Earth to Tristan," Myles calls out, waving a hand in front of my face. "You okay over there?"
"Better than okay." My stomach is a swarm of butterflies, but it feels right, like everything is falling into place. Raising an eyebrow, I say, "Ready to make some pizza?"
"Absolutely."
We gather in the kitchen, Myles, Nix, and I, about to create the ultimate culinary masterpiece: homemade pepperoni pizza with pineapple toppings. Because, honestly, is it even pizza without pineapple?
"Alright, team," Myles announces, "let's make some magic happen."
Nix giggles. "This is gonna be the best pizza ever!"
"Of course it will be, kiddo," I say, giving his shoulder a slight squeeze. My heart pounds in my chest, knowing what's coming next.
Myles clears his throat, looking at me with a reassuring smile. "Nix, we have something important to tell you."
Nix pauses, his hands covered in flour. "Okay, Dad."
"Tristan and I," Myles begins, hesitating briefly, "we're boyfriends."
There's a beat of silence, and I hold my breath, waiting for Nix's reaction.
"Like... like Miguel's papá and papi?" Nix asks, his eyes wide with curiosity.
"Exactly like that," Myles confirms, smiling warmly at his son.
"Is that why Tristan's been around so much?" Nix inquires, looking between the two of us.
"Yep," I chime in. "I really love spending time with you and your dad."
"Awesome!" Nix exclaims, returning to his pizza-making duties. "So, can we still put extra pineapple on the pizza?"
"Of course," Myles chuckles, relief washing over his face. "Extra pineapple it is."
We work in companionable silence for a short time as Myles stirs the ingredients to make the sauce and I guide Nix as he rolls out the dough on the lightly-floured surface.
Still stirring the pot, Myles shoots me a quick glance for support. "So, do you have any questions about what it means for Tristan and me to be boyfriends?"
I can see the gears turning in Nix's head as he processes this new information. "Do you guys love each other like Miguel's papá and papi?"
Myles exchanges another look with me before answering. "Well, I don't know exactly how much they love each other, but I can tell you that I love Tristan very much."
"Me too," I chime in, my heart pounding. "I love your dad with all my heart, Nix."
"Dad, you still love Mommy even though she died?" Nix asks, his voice small.
"Of course," Myles responds, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down as he swallows. "I'll never stop loving your mom. She was an amazing woman."
"Do you miss Mommy?"
"Every day," Myles admits, his voice cracking. "Your mom was a big part of our lives, and I'm grateful we had her. Without your mom, there wouldn't be you."
"You're a gift, Nix, and your mom would be proud of the incredible little man you're becoming." I smile despite the bittersweet emotions coursing through my soul.
Nix beams, his smile lighting up the room. The happiness in his eyes is contagious, and I feel my own spirits lift.
With a mischievous smile on his face, Nix says, "Then you can wrap me up in gift paper and tie me with a bow."
Myles and I burst out in laughter.
"Anytime, little man," I reply, patting the boy affectionately on his back. "Now, why don't we get back to making this pizza? I think it's about time we throw some more pineapple on there."
"Okay." Nix immediately dives back into the task at hand.
We continue our pizza-making extravaganza, but I have to take a beat to marvel at the beauty of this moment. Our little family might not be conventional, but it's full of love, laughter, and pineapple-topped pizza. And that's more than enough for me.
I glance at Myles, our eyes locking as we share an unspoken understanding. It's time to address the elephant in the room—or rather, the firefighter in the bedroom.
"Nix," I begin, my heart pounding in my chest. "You know how much I love spending time with you and your dad, right?"
"Mmhm." Nix is focused on meticulously placing pineapple chunks on the pizza. "You're my family."
"Thanks, kiddo." I smile, touched by his words. "Well, your dad and I were thinking... would it be okay if sometimes I stay over and sleep here with you guys? Like a sleepover, but just with me and your dad."
Nix looks up from his pizza masterpiece, his expression contemplative. "Do you mean like last time when you slept in Dad's room?"
Myles and I exchange nervous glances before I stutter out a hesitant response. "Y-yeah, that's what we mean. But only if you're completely comfortable with it."
"Okay," Nix says simply, shrugging his shoulders as if this is the most normal thing in the world. "As long as we can have pancakes for breakfast."
"Deal." Relief floods through me. I can't help but laugh at the boy's priorities. Pancakes—the ultimate cure for any awkward situation.
We return to our pizza-making, the atmosphere now lighter and filled with laughter. As Nix arranges pepperoni into a smiley face, he suddenly turns to me, his question catching me off guard.
"Tristan, can I call you Daddy sometimes?" he asks innocently, his guileless eyes searching mine for an answer.
My breath catches in my throat, and I feel a swell of emotion rising within me. I look at Myles, who nods encouragingly, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. I take a deep breath and turn back to face Nix.
"Of course you can, little man," I say, my voice thick with emotion. "It would be an honor for me to be your Daddy."
"For real?" Nix's eyes widen before a broad smile spreads across his face. "Thanks, Daddy! You're the best."
Christ. A minute ago I thought I couldn't love this boy any more than I already did, but I was lying to myself. My heart is filled and overflowing with the love I have for him. My son. A tear slides down my cheek. "You have no idea how much that means to me."
"Group hug!" Nix exclaims, his voice pitched high with excitement. Myles and I exchange a glance filled with joy and love before we all envelope each other in a warm embrace.
We're a tangled mess of limbs, laughter, and genuine happiness as we hold onto each other.
My eyes start to water again, but I blink back the tears, trying to focus on the feeling of Myles's strong arms around me, the sound of Nix's infectious giggling, and the warmth that radiates within our little circle of love.
"Best. Hug. Ever," Nix declares, his voice muffled by my shirt, and I can't help but chuckle at his enthusiasm. This kid is a natural-born optimist, and it's contagious.
"Oh yes, it sure is," Myles agrees, and I feel his breath against my neck, causing goosebumps to spread across my skin. I silently berate myself for getting turned on during a family hug. Get it together, Tristan.
"Hey, what do you say we make some fruit juice to go with our pizza?" I suggest, hoping to distract myself from my very inappropriate thoughts.
"Yesss!" Nix cheers, wriggling free from our embrace and darting towards the kitchen cabinets. "Daddy, can I get a pineapple on my glass?"
My heart lurches at the sound of the word daddy on Nix's lips. That's my boy. He's my son. And I'll never get tired of hearing or saying those three words. He's. My. Son.
"Of course, kiddo," I say in response to the question, bringing myself back to the present.
I follow him, leaving Myles to finish up the last touches on our pineapple-pepperoni masterpiece.
As I prepare our drinks, I steal glances at Myles, watching the way his muscles flex beneath his tight-fitting shirt as he works.
It's a sight that never gets old, and one I'll never tire of appreciating.
I slip a pineapple wedge onto the rim of a glass and pour a serving of fruit juice into it. "Here you go, little man."
Nix takes it with a grin, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Thanks, Daddy!" he exclaims before taking a sip. The word sends a jolt through me, both heartwarming and terrifying at the same time. Can I really be the father figure this amazing kid deserves?
"Careful," Myles warns as Nix slurps the drink, and it's at that moment I realize we really are a team—all three of us, together.
And though the doubts and fears still linger in the corners of my mind, I know one thing for sure: I wouldn't trade this moment, or these two incredible people, for anything in the world.
"Alright, guys, let's dig into this pizza!" I grin as Myles slides the cheesy, bubbling pie onto the table. We gather around, plates in hand, ready to share not only a meal but also our lives, our love, and our laughter.
I feel a newfound sense of belonging knowing that Nix is okay with Myles and me being together.
And in this moment, surrounded by laughter, love, and pineapple-topped pizza, I think about the path I had to travel to get me to this point in my life.
It may not be a conventional family, but it's ours, and I couldn't be happier.