Chapter 9 #2
“I have no interest in pursuing legal action for events that occurred so long ago. My only goal was to ensure that the truth was finally known. Now that the truth is out, I consider this matter closed and will be making no further statements. Thank you.”
Questions immediately erupted from the gathered reporters, but I shook my head, turning to go back inside. As the door closed behind us, cutting off the clamor of voices, I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding.
“Well done,” Bronwyn said, giving my shoulder a rare squeeze of affection. “Now, do you want to call your father, or should we start drinking immediately?”
Despite everything, I laughed. “Maybe both. But I think I need some air first. Rhett, walk with me?”
He nodded, and we slipped out the back entrance, avoiding the reporters out front. The day had warmed considerably, the late morning sun casting dappled shadows through the trees that lined the back alley.
We walked in comfortable silence for a while, eventually finding ourselves at the small park near the center of town. An old wooden bench overlooking a duck pond offered a moment of peace, and we sat close together, my thigh pressed against his in a way that felt both new and familiar.
“What are you thinking?” Rhett asked after a while.
I considered the question, trying to sort through the tangle of emotions within me.
“I’m thinking that I spent twenty years afraid of exactly this, the public scrutiny, my parents’ disappointment, the upheaval of everything comfortable and known.
And now that it’s happening, it’s both worse and better than I imagined. ”
“Worse how?”
“My parents,” I admitted, the pain still fresh. “I knew they’d be upset, but part of me hoped... I don’t know. That they might finally see me, understand me. That the truth might matter more than appearances.”
Rhett’s arm slipped around my shoulders, a gesture of comfort I leaned into without hesitation. “And better?”
“You,” I said simply. “I never imagined having you by my side through all of this. And Bronwyn, Vanessa, I’ve spent so long convinced I was alone, that no one would stand with me if they knew the whole truth. Being proven wrong about that... it means everything.”
He pressed a kiss to my temple; public display of affection be damned. “You’re not alone, Moses. Not anymore.”
We sat in silence for a while longer, watching the ducks glide across the pond’s surface, the world continuing its rhythms despite the personal earthquakes we were navigating.
Finally, I straightened, coming to a decision. “I need to call my father. Might as well get it over with.”
“Do you want privacy?” Rhett offered.
I shook my head. “Stay. Please.”
With steady hands, I dialed the number I still knew by heart despite how rarely I used it these days. My father answered on the second ring, his voice formal and composed as always.
“Moses. I see you received your mother’s letter.”
“I did,” I confirmed, keeping my own voice neutral. “I’m not retracting my statement, Father. It’s the truth, and I won’t deny it to protect Soren Hayes or anyone else.”
A pause, the weight of disappointment traveling through the connection. “I had hoped you might reconsider. The Hayes family has been good to us over the years. Your accusations, without concrete proof..."
“I have proof,” I interrupted, something I rarely dared to do with my father. “The school pin and Soren’s own words. But even if I didn’t, it wouldn’t change the truth of what happened.”
“Truth is subjective, son. Especially after twenty years. Anyone will say anything with persuasion.”
“No, it’s not,” I replied, surprised at my own boldness giving way to a calm certainty.
“What happened, just happened. Soren did what he did. I made the choices I made and looking back I should have maybe done something different. None of that changes, just because time has passed or because acknowledging it is inconvenient for your social standing.”
Another pause, longer this time. “Your mother and I have discussed this at length. If you insist on maintaining these allegations, we will have no choice but to distance ourselves publicly. You understand what that means.”
The threat was clear, but strangely, it didn’t carry the weight it once might have. “I understand. I’m sorry you feel that’s necessary.”
“It is,” he said, a note of finality in his voice. “You’ve made your choice, Moses. I hope you can live with the consequences.”
“I’ve been living with consequences for twenty years, Father,” I replied, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest. “At least this time, they’re consequences I’ve chosen, not ones forced on me by someone else’s actions.”
There was nothing more to say after that. We exchanged terse goodbyes, and I ended the call, letting the phone drop into my lap.
“You, okay?” Rhett asked softly.
“No,” I admitted. “But I will be.”
He pulled me closer, and I allowed myself to lean on him, to draw strength from his unwavering presence. We sat like that for a long time, the sun climbing higher in the sky, the world continuing around us.
Eventually, my phone buzzed with a text from Bronwyn:
When you’re done sorting out your familial disaster, there’s a gin delivery that needs your expert opinion. Also, Vanessa called. Apparently, Soren’s skipping town. Again.
I showed the message to Rhett, who snorted softly as we made our way back inside to the bar. “Some things never change. Still running away when things get tough.”
“Not us,” I said, the realization striking me with sudden clarity. “Not anymore.”
Rhett’s smile was like the sunrise after the longest night. “No. Not anymore.”
We walked back to the bar hand in hand, ignoring the curious glances from passersby. The reporters had mostly dispersed, my statement apparently satisfying enough of their curiosity for now. As we approached the back entrance, Rhett paused, turning to face me.
“Whatever happens with your parents, with the fallout from all this,” he said, his eyes serious. “I’m here. For as long as you want me.”
The simple declaration, the certainty behind it, settled something restless within me.
For twenty years, I’d carried the burden of secrets and shame alone, convinced that was my lot in life.
Now, standing in the alley behind the bar I co-owned in the town that had once cast me out, I finally understood that some burdens weren’t meant to be carried alone.
“I want you,” I said, the words both a confession and a promise. “I’ve always wanted you.”
Rhett’s smile deepened, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made my heart skip. “Good. Because I plan to stick around for a very long time.”
He leaned in, kissing me with a tenderness that belied the passion I knew simmered beneath the surface. When we separated, I felt steadier, more certain of my path forward than I had in years.
“Come on,” I said, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go deal with that gin delivery. And then maybe we can talk about what happens after the reunion ends.”
“After?” Rhett echoed, following me inside.
“When you go back to Boston and I go back to Atlanta,” I clarified, the reality of our separate lives a sobering reminder amidst the emotional intensity of the past few days.
Rhett’s expression grew thoughtful. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about that. I have a proposal of sorts. Not that kind,” he clarified quickly, seeing my startled look. “Though maybe someday. But a suggestion for how we might make this, us, work.”
“I’m listening,” I said, curious despite the flutter of anxiety his words provoked.
“Let’s talk about it later,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “When we have time to really discuss it. For now, let’s focus on getting through the rest of this reunion in one piece.”
As we entered the back room where Bronwyn was cataloging the gin delivery, I felt a strange sense of peace settle over me. The fallout from my revelation was far from over, there would be more conversations with my parents, more social media storms, more curious glances and whispered comments.
But for the first time in twenty years, I was facing it all as my authentic self, with people who knew the whole truth and stood by me anyway. And most importantly, with Rhett at my side, his hand in mine, bridging the past we’d shared and the future we might build together.
Whatever came next, we would face it together. And that made all the difference.