Chapter 21 #3
Whenever these episodes happen, people typically respond with a heightened sense of urgency and concern that we must tackle it to the ground and treat it like a bomb needing to be defused.
My mom and Marcus, especially, have always been on high alert.
I can’t even say I blame them. They saw the worst of it, picking me up off the floor after I tried and failed to kill myself when it got to be too much.
Going through that with me changed them, and I can understand and appreciate their concern about not wanting it to happen again.
But not every low mood needs to be treated like it’s DEFCON-1.
Luke’s not looking at me like that, though.
He’s not treating me like I’m some broken thing that needs to be fixed, and there’s no pity or distress in his expression like he’s worried I’m jumping off the deep end.
All I see is pure acceptance. He looks at me like he sees me just as I am and doesn’t need me to change for him to be comfortable.
I didn’t think something as simple as that could be so refreshing.
I swallow the sudden lump in my throat.
“What do you need right now?” Luke asks. “Can I do anything to help?”
“Honestly? I think I just need to sleep. I didn’t sleep very well this whole weekend, so that probably didn’t help.”
“Was that my fault?” Luke winces.
“Only a little.” I laugh, and it feels natural for the first time all morning. “You snore. Did you know that?”
Luke grins and lets out a little chuckle, and that vise around my chest loosens a bit more.
“How did you know?” I ask after a minute, frowning. “How could you tell something was wrong?”
Luke gives me a once-over and shrugs. “You seemed different this morning. Closed off. Whenever you smiled, it never reached your eyes. And you just seemed…off.”
Something blooms in my chest that sends warmth through my entire body, and I don’t know what to do with it—how to handle it. It feels like that tug on my heart got more intense, but I’m not prepared to analyze it.
Not only was Luke actively paying close attention to me, but he saw through my masks and attempts to hide and broke through to reach me.
To be seen so thoroughly and effortlessly like that…
“Can you tell me about your dad?” Luke asks. “I’d love to know what he was like.”
So, I do. For the next few hours, I open up about the one thing I haven’t discussed with anyone in years.
I share all the stories I remember about the man who meant the most to me, along with all the things I miss about him.
Like how he used to sit like a gremlin every time he’d read a book.
Or the way he always tried to sing along with the arias from his favorite operas, even though he didn’t have the voice or the talent.
I tell Luke how he used to pick my mom up and twirl her around the kitchen when they were cooking dinner, and how I loved that they were so in love.
Once I start, I can’t seem to stop, the information gushing out of me like a waterfall. I laugh and get teary-eyed, and Luke listens to all of it, asking questions and keeping me talking. Somehow, I feel my mood getting better with every word that leaves my mouth.
When I can’t say anything else, I ask Luke to tell me about his dad instead. His real dad, who he lost when he was thirteen. His stories are strained and a little more complicated, but he opens up to me, nevertheless. While there was love there, their relationship was somewhat fraught.
Luke tells me how his dad saw that he leaned toward more feminine behaviors and knew by the time he was six years old that he was different.
He wasn’t against Luke pursuing the things he liked—the singing, the dance lessons—but he worried that if Luke didn’t ‘man up’ a bit more, he would struggle to fit into a world that wasn’t accepting of him.
He forced Luke to act more masculine and do more ‘manly’ things so he wouldn’t stick out as much, which is why he’s known how to operate a lathe since he was eight and knows more than he cares to admit about cars.
“In his own twisted way, everything he was doing was so he could try to protect me, but it wasn’t what I needed from him.
I just wanted him to accept me as I am, you know?
” Luke says, frowning. “I would rather he fought to change the world for me instead of trying to change me so I could fit into the world. The fucked-up thing about it is that he didn’t even care that I was gay.
He was fine with the fact that I liked men. Just not with me acting like it.”
Hearing that, I can’t help but frown, and I squeeze Luke’s hand to offer him some comfort. He squeezes back.
“But I was also desperate to please him, so I did what he wanted,” Luke continues.
“Even now, coming back here after being away for so long, I’ve fallen right back into the old habits like a PTSD response.
And I can’t even blame him for his concern.
You’ve seen what the guys in the shop are like.
I’m a very openly proud gay man, but I still do everything I can to try and blend in instead of standing out when I’m here.
Wearing plain clothes, fucking Carhartt’s, and being extra careful not to be too flamboyant. I can’t comfortably be myself.”
“You shouldn’t hide who you are just to blend in.”
“I don’t want to,” Luke responds firmly. “But I’m also hyper-aware of my surroundings and don’t want to get killed either. If I could only get my mom to leave Pete and this shithole town, everything would be better.”
I freeze at the words, my stomach dropping.
I realize Luke didn’t mean to imply anything to do with me in that statement, but it still stings, nonetheless.
It brings me back to my fears of not being something Luke wants or needs, and it feels like I could easily be cast aside the moment an opportunity came for him to get out of this place. That thought hurts.
Maybe I’m emboldened by the fact that we’ve spent the last three hours pouring our hearts out to each other, but I suddenly find myself needing a clear-cut answer, and I can’t wait for it to come falling into my lap.
I need to know where I stand in Luke’s life without merely assuming we’re on the same page, and I don’t want to keep second-guessing myself.
I take a deep breath and turn to him, and he glances at me curiously.
“What are we doing?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” Luke frowns.
“You and me. What is it that you and I are doing? I need to know what your expectations are before we go any further. Like, are we dating? Is this just casual? You’ve gotta tell me what to do here.”
Luke’s mouth twists into a timid smile, and his cheeks flush. “Well, um,” he clears his throat and turns his eyes back to the road. “I would very much like to date you. If that’s what you want.” He adds that last bit hesitantly, giving me a questioning glance.
“Oh, thank god,” I groan, sinking into my seat with relief.
Luke bursts out laughing. “Was that bothering you?”
“You have no idea.”
“Oh, I have some idea.” He chuckles. “I wasn’t sure what you were interested in or comfortable with, and I didn’t want to push too quickly or just assume….”
“We’re hopeless.”
“Yeah, but it’s kind of romantic, don’t you think?” Luke grins. “What’s a good romance without a little miscommunication?”
I smirk, but my smile falters as a thought crosses my mind. “Are you really okay with me not being out, though? Like…at work and stuff. With my friends. Does it bother you that I don’t want anyone to know right now?”
Luke smiles warmly and lifts our joined hands to his lips, delicately kissing the backs of my fingers.
“I already told you I don’t mind. You know my stance on those shitheads at work, so even I wouldn’t be comfy being open about it there.
But, with your friends and anyone else you’re worried about, I don’t mind being discreet.
As long as you’re not coming from a place of shame by being with me. ”
“No, not ever.”
“Then we’re good,” Luke says, and I can tell he means it. “You should try and get some sleep. We’ve still got a few hours to go.”
I nod and sigh, leaning back in the seat and closing my eyes.
Relief washes over me, and everything suddenly feels easier—lighter.
I’m exhausted and still in a low mood, but the urgency and panic have passed.
Luke squeezes my hand again, a silent reminder that he’s right here with me.
And somehow, knowing he’ll still be here when I wake up makes it a little more manageable.