Chapter Thirty-Five
Simon
The house felt too quiet after everyone left.
Mom and Dad took Sadie home with them, promising to return in the morning. Keys left without a word, his jaw tight with frustration. The door closed behind them, and suddenly it was just Tony and me, standing in the living room with the weight of everything that had happened pressing down on us.
I turned to face him, relief flooding through me. Finally. Finally, we were alone. Finally, I could breathe without worrying about who was watching, without the constant performance of distance.
The case was won. The recording had changed everything. Tomorrow, the jury would see it, and I’d be free.
We’d be free.
“Tony,” I said softly, stepping toward him with a smile I couldn’t quite suppress.
He didn’t move.
I closed the distance between us, reaching for his hand. My fingers brushed his, and I felt the familiar spark of connection that had always been there, even when everything else was falling apart.
But when I looked up at his face, my breath caught.
His expression was cold. Withdrawn. Furious.
“Tony?” I said again, confusion threading through my voice. “What’s wrong?”
He pulled his hand away from mine.
The rejection stung, sharp and immediate. I took a step back, my heart pounding. “W-what is it? Did something happen?”
“Did something happen?” Tony repeated, his voice low and dangerous. “Are you fucking serious right now, Simon?”
I blinked, thrown by the sudden shift. “I don’t understand. The case is won. Sadie’s safe. I’m—”
“You’re what?” Tony cut me off, his eyes blazing. “You’re free? You think that makes this okay?”
“Makes what okay?” I asked, my voice rising. “Tony, what the hell are you talking about?”
He laughed, but there was no humor in it. “You really don’t get it, do you?”
“Get what?” I demanded, frustration bubbling up inside me. “We just won. The jury’s going to see the recording tomorrow, and they’re going to acquit me. Sadie’s not going to be charged. Everything worked out.”
“Everything worked out,” Tony repeated, his tone mocking. “Jesus Christ, Simon. Do you even hear yourself?”
I stared at him, my confusion deepening. “What do you want me to say?”
“I want you to acknowledge what you did!” Tony shouted, and I flinched at the volume. “I want you to admit that you were willing to throw your entire fucking life away. Your freedom, your future, your life with me—all of it gone for a crime you didn’t commit!”
“I was protecting her,” I said, my voice defensive.
“She had a recording!” Tony roared. “She had video proof of self-defense, and she ran anyway! Because you told her to run!” He jabbed his finger in my direction. “You told her to leave you holding the bag!”
“I didn’t know she had a recording,” I argued, my hands clenching into fists.
“That’s not the fucking point!” Tony’s voice cracked like a whip. “The point is, you made that decision without consulting me. Without asking what I thought. Without considering what it would do to me to watch you go to prison for something you didn’t do!”
The words hit me like a slap. “I was trying to protect her.”
“You were controlling her,” Tony shot back. “You decided what was best for Sadie. You decided what was best for me. You made choices for everyone without asking what we wanted, what we needed. You played God, Simon, and you didn’t even fucking realize it.”
“I didn’t have time—”
“Bullshit!” Tony’s voice was raw now. “You had time. You had plenty of time. You just didn’t want to hear anyone tell you no.”
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words died in my throat. Because somewhere deep down, I knew he was right.
“You think you’re being selfless,” Tony continued, his voice dropping to something quieter but no less cutting.
“You think you’re protecting everyone. But what you’re really doing is deciding for them.
You’re taking away their agency, their choice.
You’re so busy trying to save everyone that you don’t even see how you’re suffocating them. ”
“I was trying to keep Sadie out of prison,” I said, my voice shaking. “I was trying to—”
“You were trying to fix something that wasn’t yours to fix,” Tony interrupted. “You saw a problem, and you decided you were the only one who could solve it. You didn’t trust Sadie to make her own choices. You didn’t trust me to defend her. You didn’t trust me to find another way.”
I felt something crack inside me. “What was I supposed to do? Let her go to prison?”
“You were supposed to tell me the truth!” Tony roared. “You were supposed to trust me to do my fucking job! Instead, you lied to me. You manipulated me. You made me defend you for a crime you didn’t commit, and you didn’t even have the decency to tell me why.”
“I couldn’t—”
“Yes, you could,” Tony said, his voice hard. “You just didn’t want to. Because if you told me, I might have stopped you. I might have found another way. And you couldn’t risk that, could you? You couldn’t risk someone else being in control.”
The accusation hung in the air between us, and I felt the truth of it settle into my bones.
“It was my fault,” I said quietly, my voice breaking. “I failed her.”
Tony’s expression shifted slightly, some of the anger giving way to something else. “What?”
“I knew,” I said, the words tumbling out now. “I knew he was hurting her. I saw the bruises. I offered to help. And she told me no. She told me she was fine, that she didn’t need help. And I... I let her tell me no.”
My throat tightened, and I had to force the words out. “I let her have control when she needed someone to take it away from her. And she killed him. She has to live with that the rest of her life because I did nothing.” My hand slammed against my chest. “I let her down when she needed me most.”
Tony’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t interrupt.
“So when she called me that night,” I continued, my voice shaking, “when she told me what happened, I knew I had to fix it. I had to make up for all the times I didn’t help her. I had to take the blame because it was my fault she was in that position in the first place.”
“Simon,” Tony said, and his voice was softer now. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“Wasn’t it?” I demanded, tears burning in my eyes.
“She is my baby sister, and I did nothing. I let her suffer because I was too much of a coward to push back when she told me no. He was her first fucking boyfriend.” I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.
“I was afraid she’d resent me if I kept pushing, worried that if I insisted, she’d pull away from me more. ”
“That doesn’t mean you should have gone to prison for her,” Tony said.
“Maybe not,” I admitted. “But I couldn’t just stand by and do nothing. Not again.”
Tony stared at me for a long moment, and I saw the conflict in his eyes, the understanding warring with the anger.
“I get it,” he said finally. “I understand why you did it. But that doesn’t make it right, Simon. You can’t sacrifice yourself every time someone you love makes a mistake. You can’t control the outcome by throwing yourself on the sword.”
“I wasn’t trying to control anything,” I said, but even as the words left my mouth, I knew they weren’t entirely true.
“Yes, you were,” Tony said quietly. “You were trying to control the narrative. You were trying to make sure Sadie didn’t suffer the consequences of her actions. And in doing so, you took away her choice. You took away mine. You decided for all of us what the outcome would be.”
I looked away, unable to meet his eyes.
“And you know what the worst part is?” Tony continued. “You were willing to sacrifice everything, including a life with me, without even asking if that’s what I wanted.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. “I wasn’t sacrificing a life with you.”
Tony’s expression hardened. “What?”
“I wasn’t sacrificing a life with you,” I repeated, my voice gaining strength. “Because we don’t have a life together, Tony. We have a secret. We have stolen moments in dark corners of a sex club. We have six years of hiding and pretending and lying to everyone around us.”
Tony’s jaw clenched. “Simon—”
“No,” I cut him off. “You want to talk about sacrifice? Let’s talk about what I’ve been sacrificing for six years, Tony.
Let’s talk about how I’ve been your dirty little secret, your mo leannán rúnda.
How I’ve had to pretend I barely know you in public, how I’ve had to watch you walk away from me over and over again because you’re too much of a fucking coward to claim me. ”
“That’s not fair,” Tony said, his voice low and dangerous.
“Isn’t it?” I demanded. “You want to lecture me about making decisions without consulting you? What about you? You decided to keep us a secret. You decided I wasn’t worth the risk. You decided that your reputation, your image, your fucking closet was more important than me.”
“It’s not that simple,” Tony said, his voice strained.
“Then explain it to me,” I shot back, throwing my arms out wide. “Explain to me why I’m not worth coming out for. Explain to me why you can fuck me in secret, but you can’t acknowledge me in public. Explain to me why I have to keep pretending I’m nothing to you.”
Tony’s hands clenched into fists at his sides. “You don’t understand.”
“Then make me understand!” I shouted. “Because from where I’m standing, it looks like you’re ashamed of me. Like you’re ashamed of what we have together. It looks like you’re ashamed of what you are.”
“I’m not ashamed of you,” Tony said, his voice rough. “I’m fucking terrified.”
The admission hung in the air between us, raw and vulnerable.
“Terrified of what?” I asked, my voice softer now.
Tony turned away from me, his shoulders tense. “You grew up in a different time than I did, Simon. You came of age when being gay was... if not accepted, at least tolerated. You had the internet. You had representation. You had a world that was slowly changing.”
He turned back to face me, and I saw the pain in his eyes. “I didn’t have that. I grew up in a time when being gay could get you killed. When holding another man’s hand in public meant you might not make it home that night.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but Tony kept going.
“Do you know what they called us?” he asked, his voice hard. “Faggots. Queers. Cocksuckers. And those weren’t just words, Simon. They were threats. They were promises of violence. They were the last things some men heard before they were beaten to death in alleyways.”
I felt my throat tighten.
“I watched men disappear,” Tony continued.
“I watched them get fired from their jobs, kicked out of their homes, disowned by their families. I watched them get arrested for the crime of existing. I watched them die, Simon. From violence, from AIDS, from suicide, all because the world told them over and over again that they were sick, that they were wrong, that they were abominations.”
His voice cracked. “So I learned to hide. I learned to bury that part of myself so deep that no one would ever suspect. Because if they did, I’d lose everything. I’d lose my family, my career, my life. I’d become one of those men who disappeared.”
“Tony,” I said softly, but he shook his head.
“You think the world has changed,” he said. “And maybe it has, for you. Maybe for your generation, it’s easier. But for me? For men my age? The fear doesn’t just go away because the law’s changed. The trauma doesn’t disappear because society decided to be a little more tolerant.”
He took a step toward me, his eyes intense. “There are still people out there who think we’re sick. Who think we’re predators. Who think we deserve to die. And yeah, maybe they’re not the majority anymore. Maybe they’re not as loud. But they’re still there, Simon. And they’re still dangerous.”
“So you’re just going to hide forever?” I asked, my voice breaking. “You’re going to let them win?”
“I’m trying to survive,” Tony said. “I’m trying to protect what I’ve built. I’m trying to keep the life I’ve fought so fucking hard for.”