Chapter 42
GARRETT
I’d never been so tempted to put my phone on silent than I was that night.
Texts. Calls. More texts. The sounds coming from that stupid little box were threatening to drive me insane, and they kept coming even while I was responding to texts.
When I answered calls, there was that relentless beep to let me know I’d received yet another text or another call.
I wanted to shut it all out… but I couldn’t. There were two people who needed to be able to reach me; any one of those calls or texts could be coming from my son or my boyfriend. I’d listen to the never-ending barrage of digital noise all night if it meant I didn’t miss one of them reaching out.
They didn’t, though. Everyone and their mother was blowing up my phone, but there was radio silence from both Chris and Liam.
My older son called an hour or so after I got home from the game. “Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m…” I ran a hand through my hair and exhaled as I paced my kitchen.
“I don’t know, to tell you the truth. Tonight has been…
” Fuck. What was the word? Weird? Overwhelming?
Horrifying? “This wasn’t how I wanted anyone to find out I was with Liam.
Least of all Chris.” I paused. “Or, I mean, I didn’t want you and your sisters to find out this way either, but—”
“But he and Chris are teammates,” Nick said evenly. “I get it. And I, uh… I don’t think this was how you wanted people finding out you’re into men, either.”
My stomach somersaulted. “No. Definitely not.”
“Shit. That’s heavy.”
“Yeah.” I pinched the bridge of my nose and sighed. “I don’t suppose you’ve heard from your brother.”
Nick was quiet for a few long seconds. “He’s texted me. He’s, um… He’s pretty heated about all of it, but I’ve been trying to talk him down.”
I winced. “I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to do that.”
“You shouldn’t have your personal life splattered all over the tabloids,” he countered. “Listen, he’s upset right now. I think—I mean, I’m not gonna lie, Dad: this was probably the worst possible way for him to find out.”
Acid climbed the back of my throat. “I know. I didn’t even think anyone knew, but… Fuck.”
“Just give him some time. He’s still getting used to the public even knowing who he is, and now suddenly everyone is asking him about his dad dating Liam St. Clair. That’s a lot. But let him catch his breath, you know? I think he’ll be okay once everything settles down a bit.”
“He was okay after what I did to our family too,” I said dryly. “He shouldn’t have to recover a second time from finding out I did shit that everyone wants to talk about.”
“This is different,” Nick said. “You know it is.”
“It is, but this time we’re still in kind of a precarious spot, you know? Like we just got back on the same wavelength.”
“Uh-huh. And he’s been raving about how much he loves having you in Pittsburgh, and how much you were a rock for him and Jasmine when Asher was born.”
The acid in my throat was suddenly replace by a lump of emotion. “He… He has?”
“Yes. All this—it’s a shock, but I don’t think it’s a disaster, you know? Like this is something you and he can come back from.”
I leaned against my kitchen counter and stared up at the ceiling. I wanted to believe him. I really did. But that raw hurt and anger in Chris’s eyes was too vivid in my memory. “I feel like we could’ve come back from it if there wasn’t all the other bullshit from before.”
“Dad. He’s moved past all that.”
I wanted to believe that, too.
But…
“Did he tell you he cheated on my mom? Did he? Huh?”
“Because he’ll probably cheat on you too. He’s a fucking liar.”
“You said you weren’t going to lie anymore.”
I had to clear my throat twice before I could speak. “I’m not sure he’s moved past it. Not as much as I thought he had.”
“Give him time.” Nick paused. “And, um… Can I ask you something?”
I swallowed. “Sure. Yeah.”
“Why didn’t you tell him? As high-profile as Liam is, there was always a chance of you guys getting outed like this, you know?”
Flinching, I sighed again. “I know.” I wiped a hand over my face as I leaned harder against the counter.
“I thought about it a lot. Liam and I talked about it, too. We just… I mean, it doesn’t matter at this point, but I was trying not to add to his stress.
The baby, hockey season—I just didn’t think it would…
” Trailing off, I let my shoulders sag. “I was trying to do the right thing, but I didn’t. And it blew up in my stupid face.”
“I get it. It makes sense.” He was quiet for a moment. “Just let him cool off. He’s overwhelmed, but he’ll come around.”
“Let’s hope,” I whispered.
But I wasn’t sure how optimistic I could let myself be.
Maybe ten minutes after we ended the call, my phone rang again. I snatched it up, silently praying for Chris’s name, but then my stomach dropped into my feet.
Dad.
“Oh, fuck,” I whispered into my empty apartment. I closed my eyes, steeled myself, then took the call. “Hi, Dad.”
There was silence on the line for a moment. Then a quiet cough. “Uh. So I saw the news about Liam St. Clair. And, um. And you.”
The acid in my throat was back with reinforcements. I pushed it back as much as I could. “Yeah?” I croaked. “So you know that…” I couldn’t even say it.
Something on the other end creaked, as if he were shifting his weight or something. “I understand my grandson isn’t pleased about this.”
Fresh guilt joined the ball of acid in the pit of my stomach. “No. No, we’re… We’re working on that.”
“He didn’t know.” Beat. “That you’re…”
“That I’m into men?”
I swear to God, I felt my father flinch.
“Uh, yes.” He muffled another cough. “That.”
I pushed out a harsh breath. “Very, very few people did. Actually, Chris was one of the few. He just… didn’t know who I was dating.”
“I see.”
With a gun to my head, I couldn’t have said what my father’s state of mind was right then. If he was angry? Disappointed? Confused? Disgusted? His cards were so tightly against his vest, all I could do was put one of my own down and hope it wasn’t a disastrous gambit.
“This wasn’t how I wanted anyone to find out,” I whispered.
“Not about us, and not about me. I, um… The plan was to tell Chris about our relationship after the season was over. That way we weren’t throwing something at him right when he was feeling all the pressure of making the playoffs and being a new dad.
It’s… I feel like an idiot now, but we were trying not to stress him out more than he already was.
” My voice got a little thick as I added, “This shitshow was exactly what we were trying to avoid.”
Nothing. Not a sound. Not even a breath.
“I’m sorry, Dad,” I said unsteadily. “I should’ve told you. I should’ve told a lot of people. I definitely shouldn’t have let this cause so much trouble for my kids, and I—”
“Garrett.” He’d never sounded more gentle in my entire life. “You don’t have anything to apologize for.”
I swiped at my eyes, grateful he couldn’t see me.
He sighed and went on. “How long have you known you were—are you gay? Bisexual?”
I blinked, startled that my dad even knew the word bisexual. “I’m bi. I’ve, uh… I’ve known for a long time.”
Another sigh. “And you never once thought you could tell me?”
Fuck. I had no idea how to answer that. I was forty-seven goddamned years old, and I suddenly felt like a teenager again. Or even younger. A kid in my dad’s crosshairs with no clue what I should say and even less clue what he might say next.
Somehow, I managed, “I’ve barely told anyone.”
“I’m your dad, Garrett.” His long exhalation made him sound so tired.
“You should’ve been able to tell me. I don’t just mean that reporter shouldn’t have robbed you of the chance.
I mean I should’ve made sure you always knew you could tell me things like that.
” He paused, and his voice was so quiet, it was barely audible, but I still heard the words loud and clear: “I’m sorry you thought you couldn’t tell me. ”
I was way too emotionally brittle for this conversation, and I couldn’t stop my composure from cracking. “I didn’t—it wasn’t anything you did. Telling anyone…”
“No. You should’ve known you could tell me anything, no matter what. The fact that you didn’t—that’s on me as a father. And I’m sorry for that.”
Well, fuck. My dad hadn’t seen or heard me cry in years, but that changed tonight.
I couldn’t hold it back. I hadn’t realized how much my fear of disappointing or disgusting my dad had been weighing on me until he’d gently knocked that weight off my shoulders.
Even while so much in my world was a fucking mess right now, I let myself indulge in this relief that I hadn’t known I’d been needing for decades.
When I could finally speak again, I said, “Thanks. I, uh… I needed to hear that.”
“You’re welcome, kid. I’m sorry it took so long.” He paused. “How is Chris taking everything?”
“Not well.” I swiped at my eyes again and sniffed. “He shouldn’t have had to find out the way he did. It was so fucking public, and… God, he’s so upset.”
“That’s a shame. Do you know who outed you?”
Anger flared in my chest. “I have a good guess, yeah. I still don’t know how he found out, but… I mean, it doesn’t really matter. The damage is done.”
“It is. But those teams have great PR departments for a reason. And even with all this hullaballoo about you two dating, you haven’t done anything wrong. It was a shock for Chris and—well, for everyone, I suppose. But you haven’t broken any rules, have you?”
“No.” I laughed dryly. “The League never thought to make a rule banning players from dating their teammates’ dads, I guess.”
Dad chuckled. “No, I suppose they didn’t.
Listen. This isn’t a disaster like when your marriage blew up.
Nobody’s done anything wrong, aside from whoever outed you.
Take a breath. Get some sleep. Talk to your son.
” He paused. “You’re a good dad, Garrett.
You made some mistakes, but you always tried your damnedest to be a good father, and I think you did better there than you think. All isn’t lost, okay?”
I was about to cry again, but I pulled it together enough to whisper, “From your lips to God’s ears, right?”
He gave one of those quiet, knowing laughs I remembered from my childhood, and I swore I could almost feel him giving my shoulder a reassuring squeeze. “It’ll work out. It might be rough for a little while, but you and Chris will be fine. So will you and Liam.”
“I hope so,” I whispered.
“You will.” He paused. “And I assume I’ll get a chance to meet this boyfriend of yours at some point?”
The laughter that poured out of me then felt good. Even more of a relief than breaking down crying a moment ago.
“The off season is coming up. I’m sure we can work something out.”
“Good. Take it easy, Garrett. You’ll be okay.”
“Thanks. Love you, Dad.”
“Love you too, son.”
We ended the call, and now that I was truly alone, I let the emotions all come crashing through me.
The fear I was losing my son and my boyfriend.
The relief that my father still loved me after he’d found out I was queer.
Everything from the last several hours, the last few years, the last few decades—it all hit me at once, and what could I do but feel it all?
I’d fully expected a sleepless night after everything that had happened earlier. By the time I gave in, silenced my phone, and fell into bed, though, exhaustion took over.
And the last clear thought I had before I fell asleep was that I hoped my dad was right.
I hoped Chris, Liam, and I would all be okay.