Total pages in book: 96
Estimated words: 95019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95019 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 475(@200wpm)___ 380(@250wpm)___ 317(@300wpm)
I’m waiting for a torrent of emotion—rage, guilt, shock—but I’m surprisingly numb. To make matters worse, they’re silent, staring at me, as if to gauge my reaction. I open my mouth to say something, anything that will make this stop, but words catch in my throat. Not that I’d have any even if I could think of something.
After a stretch of time, I finally manage to get out, “What?”
“Divorce,” Dad says, avoiding eye contact. “We’re getting a divorce.”
“Not, like, a separation?”
They turn to each other but won’t look each other in the eyes either, and again, I know them well enough to have an idea of what they won’t say. “So you’ve already been separated?”
“Not a legal separation,” Dad says. “But we’ve agreed we would do that.”
“How long has this been going on?”
“About a year.”
Now they’ve got me running back through the past year’s events—Christmas, a vacation to see our extended family. “Even when we went to Maui?” I ask, since that’s just a regular trip we have over the holiday, and everything seemed totally normal, but again, it reminds me that I haven’t been paying attention as they nod to confirm.
“And you didn’t want to tell me anything?”
“We wanted to be sure first,” Mom says.
“Did something happen? Or…” My stomach churns at the thought that either might have betrayed the other.
“Nothing happened,” Dad insists before I can sit with that for too long. “But your mom was expressing frustrations for some time—”
“Aster, don’t put this on me.”
Dad hangs his head as he chews his bottom lip.
“We agreed to this together,” Mom adds.
Dad nods, his face red, but he’s quiet, unusually quiet for him.
“Dad doesn’t want this, does he?” I ask, choking up.
He still won’t look at me, and I can see the tears forming in his eyes as he says, “Things don’t always work out the way you plan. You know that, champ. But I adore your mother, and she knows that.”
Mom shoots him a subtle look, and her stoic expression and the way she tilts her neck has me thinking his confession has irritated her arthritis.
“Is there something you could do?” I ask. “Like see a therapist?”
“We’ve been to couples counseling before we made this decision,” Dad reveals.
Another thing I’ve been oblivious to.
Fuck.
That numbness is quickly being replaced by all these feelings I’m not ready to handle.
Anger.
Frustration.
Guilt.
And a sense of helplessness because it’s clear they’re only telling me after the decisions have already been made.
“Are you okay?” Mom asks.
I push to my feet. “I don’t think so.” The tightness in my chest is intense, like a pinched nerve in my heart, if that were possible. I head right for the door, wanting to get the fuck away.
“Ryan!” Dad calls after me.
“Sweetie.” Mom’s voice isn’t far behind as they tail me.
“Sit down so we can answer any questions you have. We said we’d go to dinner.”
I turn around, summoning all my strength to keep control of the torrent of emotions moving through me. “Please, I need to get out of here for a bit. This was…a lot. And I love you both, but I need to think about it.” I can’t even look at them right now.
“Okay, just reach out if you need anything. We’re happy to talk,” Dad says.
They say more, but I’m too busy leaving to hear any of it, maybe because I can’t process any more new information. I hurry to my car, not even safe once I close the door because Mom and Dad stand on the front porch, watching me. I put the car in Drive and head down to the next cul-de-sac in the neighborhood, parking before the tears overwhelm me.
14
Marty
“Come on, we got this,” Lance says.
“Bi powers activate!” Ash follows, spinning the cursor on his controller.
“If that existed,” Colin adds, “we would have cleared this game already.”
Ash and Colin are stretched out across the bed. Since they can’t keep apart from each other, they’re like a four-armed monster, with Colin spooning Ash as they play.
After I finished up at Activate Kindness, I joined the crew for video games in Ash’s room. Angie’s here too. Normally, that would be enough to put me in a good mood, but today it’s not setting me at ease. Neither is petting Frat Cat.
I check my phone for what must be the dozenth time since I last messaged Ryan.
There’s only my DM: What time do you think you’ll be back here?
That was three hours ago.
I remind myself he’s with his parents, but that doesn’t take the edge off, especially given the way we were sparring via Insta earlier. I’d say I’m worried I might’ve pissed him off, but considering how we’ve been at each other’s throats in the past and how he still wound up kissing me, that can’t be it.
No, but there’s another worry, much worse.
It was one thing to mess around last night. And then joke about it this morning. Ryan’s good at showing everyone this chill, easygoing side, but he’s got feelings, same as the rest of us, even if sometimes I forget that. He has worries and fears. What if, now that he’s had time to process, he’s regretting what we did? Maybe he realized there could be consequences for discovering this queer part of himself. He’s a popular jock who’ll likely go pro. Sure, the world’s made a lot of progress, but it’s still a big deal. I also don’t know his parents. What if seeing them has brought up all sorts of issues—