“Sure thing, sweetie.Dinner should be ready when you’re done,” she says, stepping closer to kiss my cheek and pat my back.
I head to my room, my chest tightening as I close the door.Tonight is the night I’ve decided to tell them.I’ll be leaving tomorrow, and if I don’t do it now, I know I’ll keep putting it off.
The faint sound of my dad singing one of Mom’s favorite songs drifts through the apartment, accompanied by her giggles as she joins in.They sound so happy, so carefree, and the thought of disrupting that harmony with my truth feels like a weight pressing on my chest.
After my shower, I change into a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, then check my phone.Still no response from Fox.I shove it into my pocket, trying not to spiral into worst-case scenarios, and head to the living room where dinner is already served.
Dad beams at me as I sit down opposite him and Mom.“Cameron, would you lead the prayer tonight?”he asks.
I nod.We hold hands across the table, and I offer a short prayer, ending with the Lord’s Prayer.As everyone says amen, I open my eyes and take a deep breath.My heart feels heavy, knowing what I need to say tonight.
I pick at my food, barely taking a few bites.My appetite is gone, replaced by nerves that twist my stomach into knots.
“Cameron, are you okay?”Mom asks, her voice laced with concern.
I force a smile.“I’m fine, just a little tired.I’ll take a nap after dinner.”
Mom exchanges a glance with Dad but doesn’t push.They seem to accept my excuse, though I can tell they sense something is off.
I watch as they smile and laugh, sneaking little glances at each other like newlyweds.Even after all these years, they radiate happiness and love.It’s beautiful—and intimidating.
When they found out about the letter I wrote to Bryson in high school, it was anything but supportive.Mom told me it was wrong, that she couldn’t accept me if I continued down that path.She painted horrific pictures of kids who were kicked out, turned to dangerous lives, or worse.Dad was blunt, saying he couldn’t be a father to a gay son.He insisted I needed to date a girl to please God and make them proud.
For a while, I let their words convince me to lie to myself.To hide who I really was.But then I met Fox, and everything changed.He showed me what it meant to feel seen, to feel loved.I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want him, and for the first time in my life, I feel like I don’t have to pretend.
I look across the table at my parents, who are still smiling and chatting softly.The knot in my stomach tightens.They love me, I know they do, but will they still love me after tonight?
I take a shaky breath, gripping my fork tightly as I rehearse the words in my head.
“Mom, Dad, I’m gay.And Fox Wilder, Lila’s son, is my boyfriend.We’ve been dating for five months.”
The words feel heavy, impossible to say out loud.But I know I have to.Tonight, the truth will finally come out.
“Cameron?”Mom’s voice breaks through the fog of my thoughts.I blink at her, my fork suspended mid-air over my barely touched plate.
“You’re not eating,” Dad says, his concerned eyes darting from me to my plate.
I sigh, lowering the fork as I glance at their empty dishes.Both of them are finished, yet I’ve barely managed a bite.
“Are you okay?”Mom presses, standing and moving to sit beside me.She places her hands over mine, her touch warm but growing more tense with each second of silence.
“I need to tell you something,” I blurt, my voice trembling.My heart pounds like a drum against my ribs, and my chest tightens until it feels like I can’t breathe.
“Cameron?”Mom says gently, her eyes searching my face.“Are you okay, honey?”
“Son?”Dad echoes, leaning forward in his seat.His worry feels like a vice around me, but I’ve made my decision.I have to do this.
“I’m gay,” I say, my voice cracking but steady enough to carry the words.
The room falls into a suffocating silence.Both of them stare at me, their expressions flickering between shock and something far worse—disgust.Slowly, Mom pulls her hands away from mine, as though my touch burns her skin.
“Cameron…” Mom starts, her voice trembling.“What… what are you saying?”
“I’m saying I’m gay, Mom.I’ve always been.And I’m not confused or going through a phase or anything like that,” I say, my voice gaining strength as I look her in the eye.
“Oh, not this nonsense again,” Dad hisses, his voice low and biting.
I swallow hard, the sting of rejection hitting me like a physical blow.“The first time you found out, you made me reject myself.You made me believe there was something wrong with me.But now, I’ve come to terms with who I am, and I need you to know that I’m gay.And I’m not sorry about it.”
