Page 11 of Heal Me, Love Me

“As in, he was mine,” I answered. “And I was his.”

Dad drew in a slow breath, but the anger I braced for never came. He just seemed stunned. “You and Keaton? The boy next door?”

“Yeah.”

Mom’s eyes filled with tears, and the hurt on her face made my stomach twist. “Oh, Rowan.”

“I should’ve told you.”

“I wish you had.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it. “But I’m not upset about you and Keaton. It hurts knowing you thought you had to carry this alone.”

My father’s attention remained on me. “How long were you together?”

I stared at the floor. “This time or when we first got together?”Mom inhaled sharply, but I kept my gaze down. “It started junior year,” I admitted, wishing the floor would swallow me whole. “I didn’t know how to tell anyone.”

She gasped and her hand left mine, so I glanced up and saw it pressed to her mouth. I couldn’t tell whether she was hurt that I’d been afraid to tell her or trying to reconcile what she’d just learned with every memory of Keaton in this house.

Dad sat with that for a second. “You were together back then?”

“Not officially, and never where anyone could see us, but yeah.”

“You never told us,” my mom whispered.

“I was scared.”

“Of us?” she asked, and the hurt in her voice twisted my stomach.

“No. Not exactly.” The answer still didn’t feel clear. “I was scared of everyone. School. The guys on my sports teams. What people would say. What Dad would think.”

He flinched as if I’d hit him. “WhatIwould think?”

“You had this whole idea of who I was supposed to be.”

“Rowan.”

“You talked about the Air Force my whole life. Following in your footsteps. Being disciplined. Being strong. Doing things the right way. I didn’t know how to be that and be with him.”

“Son, being with Keaton doesn’t make you any less strong.”

“I know that now.”

“But you didn’t then,” Mom said.

I didn’t answer.

“Are you saying you thought we wouldn’t love you?” she asked.

“I didn’t know what would happen.”

“Oh, honey,” her voice broke. “I’m so sorry.”

Dad looked down for a second, then back at me. “Me too.”

“Don’t. This isn’t about that.”

“It’s a little about that,” he replied quietly. “If you were afraid to tell us who you loved, then it’s about that too.”

Loved.