Chapter 5 #2
Phoebe leans back against the rough bark, arms crossed over her chest. I stop a couple feet in front of her, hands shoved in my pockets, heart pounding against my ribs. Her gaze sweeps over me cautiously, like she’s checking for injuries. For a moment, neither of us speaks.
Finally, she lifts her chin, eyes sharpening in the dim light. “What did you want to talk about, Ash?”
My hands ball at my sides. “Jesus Christ, Phoebs.” The breath leaves me in a shaky rush. “Have you told anyone?”
Her brows pinch together. “Told anyone what?”
I swallow hard. “Your… theory. About me.”
“Theory,” she echoes, slow and pointed. “That’s what you want to call it?”
“Just answer the question.”
A scowl pulls at her mouth. “No, Ash, I haven’t told anyone. You really think I’d do that?” She huffs out a humorless laugh. “You acted like a jerk, and yeah, I’m pissed at you, but I wouldn’t out you.”
I throw my hands up, frustration scraping my voice raw. “Out me? I’m not gay, Phoebs!”
Her jaw twitches. “Ash, there’s nothing wrong—”
“Look,” I cut in, stepping closer. My hand lifts to her cheek, thumb brushing her cold skin. Surprisingly, she doesn’t flinch. “I’m sorry for what I said. I was out of line. What you suggested just… caught me off guard. Obviously I think you’re beautiful, alright?”
Phoebe’s expression softens, the tension in her shoulders loosening. “You’re one of my best friends, Ash. That’s why I care so damn much.” She lets out a slow breath. “I want you to be happy. Even if it means we don’t… do this anymore.”
My stomach dips. “Phoebs—”
She shakes her head gently. “I’ve always felt like something was off when we had sex. Like I was… a task on your to-do list. Something you had to check off.” Her voice wavers, not with hurt, but with resignation.
“That’s not true,” I say quickly—too quickly. The words feel flimsy even as they leave my mouth, like they’re already collapsing under their own weight.
Her frown is sympathetic, almost tender. “I think you know it is true, deep down. But you’re scared.” She steps closer, lowering her voice. “You don’t have to be scared, Ash. And there’s nothing wrong with being attracted to men.”
My breath catches in my throat. I drop my hands and stuff them in my pockets, trying to hide the way they’re trembling.
She grips my chin, forcing me to look at her. “I forgive you for what you said, and I’ll always be your friend, but I don’t want to hook up anymore. I can get laid elsewhere.” A wry smile flickers and fades. “I’m not wasting any more of my time with someone who clearly doesn’t want me.”
Something in me splinters. I take a step back, my chest tight, vision blurring. The night air hits me cold as I turn away, tilting my head up toward the star-scattered sky. I sniff hard, blinking fast, willing the tears not to fall.
Phoebe steps toward me without hesitation, her boots thudding softly in the grass. Before I can wipe my face or pretend I’m fine, her arms come around me, pulling me into her. I fold instantly, burying my face into her curls, shaking as the first sob shatters out of me.
“I’m scared,” I whisper, the words raw and pathetic against her hair.
“I know,” she murmurs. She presses a gentle kiss to my cheek. “There’s nothing to be scared of, Ash. You deserve to be happy.”
I shake my head hard, gripping her jacket like it’s the only thing holding me upright.
“It’s not that simple,” I choke out. “I’ve known my whole life I can’t be anything other than…
normal. What I feel doesn’t matter. I don’t let myself think about it.
I can’t.” My breath shudders. “I’ve got the whole family legacy on my shoulders now, more than ever.
If a scandal got out—if anyone even suspected—it could ruin everything. The business, our name… all of it.”
Phoebe pulls back just enough to meet my eyes. “I’m sorry. I really am.” She touches my cheek with a careful hand. “But you’re not alone. I’ll always be here for you, no matter what.”
My throat tightens. “Thank you,” I whisper. “I… I love you, Phoebs.”
And I mean it. I’ve always loved her the same way I love my siblings—deeply and unconditionally.
She smiles, soft and certain. “I love you too, Ash.”
She pulls me into another hug, warm and brief this time, then steps back. “I’m gonna rejoin the party,” she says gently. “Take a minute to compose yourself, alright?”
I nod, wiping my face with the back of my hand. “Yeah. Thanks.”
She squeezes my arm once before turning and walking toward the firelight, her silhouette folding back into the glow and chatter while I stay in the shadow of the maple tree, trying to stitch myself back together.
As soon as Phoebe’s footsteps fade into silence, my legs give out. I slide down the rough bark of the tree, collapsing onto the damp ground. The cold instantly soaks through my jeans, but I barely feel it. I drag my knees up to my chest and fold myself around them, staring into the dark.
Memories I’ve spent years burying deep inside me start bubbling to the surface. This thing—this part of me—I didn’t just realize it tonight. It was always there. Always.
Whenever I watched porn, I’d tell myself I was watching for the women, but my eyes would inevitably drift.
I’d pay more attention to the guys—their bodies, their sounds, the way they moved.
My friends were obsessed with lesbian porn, raved about it constantly, but it never did anything for me.
It was like I was watching something meant for someone else.
I didn’t let myself think about why.
In high school, I’d go to Luke’s football games, sitting in the bleachers pretending to watch the plays, but my attention was always somewhere it shouldn’t be.
My gaze kept snagging on his teammates—broad shoulders, tight uniforms, muscles shifting beneath the stadium lights.
And every time I caught myself staring, heat crawled up my neck.
I’d force my eyes over to the cheerleaders, like I was punishing myself.
Like if I looked long enough, I could train myself into wanting what I was supposed to want.
I never let myself think too deeply about any of it. But deep down, beneath all the denial and the posturing and the pretend, the truth was always there. Small and solid and impossible to dissolve.
I buried it. Ignored it. Told myself it didn’t matter—because it couldn’t matter. I couldn’t even think it. I couldn’t let it surface. Not in my family, in this town. Not with the entire weight of our reputation hanging off my shoulders.
But tonight… Jesus. Tonight, the dam inside me broke. The truth spilled open, raw and unfiltered. Now that it’s been dragged into the light—now that someone else has seen it—I’m not sure I can shove it back down again.