Chapter 27
Kent
“Did you get your phone charger?” Brittany asked the moment I stepped through the door.
“Yeah,” I nodded, placing the charger I’d had the entire time on the counter.
It was an excuse to go see James, to apologize to him, to share with him my brilliant plan. But all that had blown up in my face. And the more I thought about it, the more I understood why.
“I thought maybe we could go out to the bar tonight or something,” Brittany offered, not looking up from her phone. “To celebrate.”
I was surprised to hear her suggest it. “I thought you wanted me to drink less?” I replied, brows furrowed. “You said it was one of the reasons you kicked me out in the first place.”
“Kent,” she sighed, looking up at last. “When are you going to stop taking everything I say so seriously? You should know better by now.”
I just stared at her for a moment, feeling like I was seeing her clearly for the first time. She hadn’t changed at all. I was the one who’d changed.
“That’s the thing, Brittany,” I said, leaning against the counter. “I don’t know better. Because every time you say something, you expect me to take it seriously, until suddenly you don’t. And I never know which is which.”
She rolled her eyes dramatically. “God, you’re being so sensitive right now. This is exactly why we needed a break.”
“A break?” I repeated, the word tasting bitter on my tongue. “You kicked me out. You said we were done.”
“Whatever,” she waved her hand dismissively. “The point is, we’re back together now, and I think we should celebrate. So go get dressed in something nice.”
I didn’t move. My mind was still replaying the look on James’s face when I’d suggested my “brilliant” plan. The disgust. The hurt. The way he’d compared me to my father. And the worst part was, he’d been right.
“What’s wrong with you?” Brittany’s sharp voice cut through my thoughts. “Why are you just standing there?”
“I can’t do this,” I said quietly.
“Can’t do what? Go out? Fine, we can stay in. I’ll order—”
“No, Brittany. I can’t do this.” I gestured between us. “I can’t be with you again.”
Her face went through a series of expressions, confusion, disbelief, and finally settling on anger. “Excuse me?”
“I’m sorry,” I said, and I meant it. “I should never have agreed to come back here. It was a mistake.”
“A mistake?” Her voice rose sharply. “I took you back after you practically begged me—”
“I never begged you for anything,” I interrupted. “You showed up at James’s apartment and ambushed me in front of his mother.”
“Because you wouldn’t answer my calls!” she shouted. “I had to do something drastic!”
“That’s not normal, Brittany! None of this is normal!” I ran my hands through my hair, frustration building. “A healthy relationship doesn’t work like this.”
She stood up, her eyes narrowing. “So, what, you’re some relationship expert now? After living with that… that fairy for a month?”
My blood ran cold. “Don’t call him that,” I warned, my voice dropping low.
“Why not? That’s what he is, isn’t it? Is that why you’re acting so weird? Did he corrupt you or something?”
I laughed then, a hollow sound. “Jesus, Brittany. Listen to yourself.”
“No, you listen to me.” She jabbed a finger toward me. “I took you back. Do you understand what that means? After you embarrassed me in front of everyone, I still gave you another chance. And this is how you thank me?”
“You cornering me in front of my stepmother is not a second chance. And I didn’t want a second chance, Brittany.
That’s what you’re not understanding.” I moved away from the counter, needing to put some physical distance between us.
“Our relationship was over the moment you kicked me out. Hell, it was over two years ago but I was too fucking stupid to see it.”
Her face flushed an angry red. “So what was all this? Some sick joke? You came back here just to hurt me?”
“No.” I sighed, feeling suddenly exhausted. “I came back because I panicked. Because it seemed easier to fall back into something familiar than to face who I really am.”
“And who exactly are you?” she sneered, crossing her arms.
I hesitated, the words caught in my throat. This was it. The moment I’d been dreading and avoiding for weeks. But after seeing the pain in James’s eyes, after realizing what I’d done to him, I couldn’t keep running.
“I’m in love with James,” I said, the truth finally spilling out. “I have been for weeks.”
Brittany stared at me, her expression frozen somewhere between shock and revulsion. “You’re... what?”
“I’m in love with him,” I repeated, and saying it a second time felt like releasing a weight I’d been carrying for too long. “And I’ve been too much of a coward to admit it.”
“That’s disgusting,” she whispered, backing away from me like I was contagious. “He’s your stepbrother.”
“Not anymore,” I said firmly. “And I don’t care what you think, anyway. I’ve spent my entire life trying to be what other people wanted me to be. What my dad wanted. What you wanted. And I’m done with that.”
Brittany’s face contorted with rage. “You’re sick. Both of you. Does your father know about this? Does your stepmother?”
“No,” I admitted. “And honestly, I don’t care if they find out anymore. I’m tired of hiding who I am.”
“You’re not gay,” she spat, as if she could will it to be true. “This is just some... some phase. Some twisted experiment gone wrong.”
“It’s not about being gay or straight,” I said, surprising myself with how calm I felt. “It’s about James. It’s always been about James.”
She laughed then, a cruel, mocking sound that would have cut me to the core a month ago. Now it just made me sad for her.
“You’re pathetic,” she said. “You know that? Absolutely pathetic. You think he actually cares about you? After everything you did to him?”
That hit closer to home, making me flinch. “I don’t know if he still cares about me. I might have ruined everything. But even if he never forgives me, I can’t stay here pretending with you.”
“Get out,” she hissed, pointing to the door. “Get your things and get the fuck out of my apartment.”
“Gladly,” I replied, turning toward the bedroom to grab the bag I hadn’t even unpacked yet.
As I grabbed my duffel bag from the bedroom floor, I realized I’d never even bothered to unzip it.
Everything I’d brought with me was still inside, untouched since I’d packed it at James’s apartment.
It felt symbolic somehow, like I’d never really wanted to come back here because deep down, I’d known this wasn’t where I belonged.
“I hope you’re happy,” Brittany called from the doorway, her arms crossed tightly over her chest. “You’ve thrown away everything for someone who’s probably already moved on.”
I zipped up my bag without responding. She was trying to get under my skin, to make me doubt myself.
It was what she’d always done when she felt like she was losing control.
But for once, her words didn’t land. Even if James never forgave me, and I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t, I still couldn’t stay here pretending.
“Nothing to say?” she pushed, her voice taking on that mocking tone I’d grown to hate. “No clever comeback?”
I slung my bag over my shoulder and finally looked at her. “I’m sorry, Brittany. I really am. But this is better for both of us.”
“Don’t you dare pretend this is for my benefit,” she spat. “This is you being selfish, like always.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I conceded, moving past her toward the front door. “Maybe this is selfish. But staying with you when I’m in love with someone else? That would be cruel. To both of us.”
Her laugh was bitter and sharp. “And what you did to me today wasn’t cruel? Leading me on, making me think we were fixing things?”
I paused at the door, guilt twisting in my stomach. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have come back at all. That was a mistake, and I’m sorry.”
“Your father is going to disown you when he finds out,” she said, her final attempt to make me stay. “Is that what you want? To lose your family over this... this perversion?”
The word stung, but I didn’t let it show. Instead, I thought about James, his laugh, his kindness, and the way he’d seen something in me worth saving even after everything I’d done to him.
“My father’s opinion stopped mattering to me the moment he attacked James,” I said quietly. “And if he can’t accept who I am and who I love, then maybe I’m better off without him.”
I opened the door and stepped out into the hallway, Brittany’s voice following me like a curse.
“He’ll never take you back! You hear me? He’ll never forgive you! You’ll regret this!”
“The only thing I regret,” I said, glancing back at her, “is that it took me this long to figure it out.”
I walked out without looking back again, the door slamming behind me.
The sound echoed in the cold Seattle air, final and definitive.
For the second time in as many months, I was leaving with almost nothing, heading into uncertainty.
But this time felt different. This time, I knew exactly who I was and what I wanted.
The rain started as I reached my truck. Of course it would rain now, the universe apparently had a flair for the dramatic.
I tossed my bag onto the passenger seat and sat there for a moment, key in the ignition but not turning it.
The rain drummed on the roof, a steady rhythm that matched my heartbeat.
What was I doing? James had made it perfectly clear he wanted nothing to do with me.
He’d called me selfish and compared me to my father.
It was the worst insult he could have possibly thrown at me.
And the worst part was, he’d been right.
What I’d proposed had been selfish and cowardly. Just like my father would have done.
I started the truck and pulled out of Brittany’s complex, but I didn’t head toward James’s apartment. I couldn’t face him yet, not when the wound was still so fresh. Instead, I found myself driving to the small park near the edge of town, a place I’d gone sometimes when I needed to think.
The park was deserted in the rain, which suited me fine. I parked near the small lake and watched the raindrops create ripples across its surface. The gray sky reflected in the water, making it look as bleak as I felt.
I’d fucked up. Monumentally. I’d hurt the one person who had seen past all my bullshit, who had forgiven me for years of cruelty, who had somehow found it in himself to love me despite everything.
And for what? For the comfort of the familiar?
For the approval of people whose opinions shouldn’t even matter? I felt so fucking stupid.
My phone buzzed in my pocket. For a wild moment, I thought it might be James, but when I checked, it was Derek.
Derek: Hey man, everything going okay with the family stuff?
I stared at the text, wondering how to even begin to answer that question. All he knew about was the divorce. Everything else was so far from okay that it felt like a bad joke.
Me: Not really. Made some bad decisions. Trying to figure out how to fix them.
His response came quickly.
Derek: Anything I can help with?
Me: Unless you can turn back time, probably not.
Derek: That bad, huh? Want to grab a beer and talk about it?
I considered the offer. Derek had been understanding about my sexuality, but this was different. This was about James, my stepbrother. Former stepbrother, technically, but still. Would he understand that? Would anyone?
Me: Rain check. Need some time to sort through things on my own first.
Derek: Door’s always open. Take care of yourself, Kent.
I tossed the phone onto the passenger seat and leaned my head back, closing my eyes. The sound of the rain was soothing in its constancy, a stark contrast to the chaos in my mind.
What would I even say to James if I went back? Sorry I suggested cheating on my girlfriend with you? Sorry I was too much of a coward to choose you openly? Sorry I’m just like my father after all?
A sob escaped my throat, surprising me with its intensity. Then another. And another. Soon I was crying harder than I had in years, maybe ever. All the emotions I’d been suppressing, the fear, shame, grief, and regret, came pouring out in a flood I couldn’t control.
I cried for the teenager I’d been, so desperate for my father’s approval that I’d tormented someone innocent. I cried for the scared man I’d become. And I cried most of all for the love that I’d probably destroyed because I was such a coward.
But in that moment, before I could get too scared again, I picked up my phone and did the bravest thing I could think of. Or maybe the stupidest.
Me: Stacey, we need to talk. I need your help.