Page 80 of Switch Hitter

“And him?”

A smile sneaks onto my face before I can stop it. “I love him, Dad.”

It feels different saying it here. Not because I love Emiliano any less, but because I’ve never said those words in this house about another man.

Dad watches me for a long moment.

“I could tell.” He says.

“You could?”

“Yes, from the moment the door opened.” He nods toward the living room. “And the way he looks at you… it’s undeniable.”

I blink, then laugh softly. “We were going for subtle. I guess that really didn’t work out the way we thought.”

“No,” Dad smiles to himself. “It didn’t. But if it means anything, I don’t want you to feel like you need to hide.”

A lump forms in my throat.

“Yeah.”

“He’s good to you?” He asks, looking me over with a stern glare.

I roll my eyes and smile. “He is.”

Dad nods once, slowly. “He seems like a good man.”

And I don’t know why those simple words hit me harder than I expected. I know I don’t necessarily need permission to be with Mili. I’m a grown man. But somewhere deep down… I wanted my dad to see what I saw in him and approve.

“I think he’s the best man I’ve ever known,” I say, feeling my chin wobble a bit.

Dad smiles sadly. “I was scared you thought you’d lose us.”

“I did.”

He looks down into his mug. “Sean…” His voice is rough now. “…I don’t understand everything.”

“Yeah.” I chuckle. “I know that.”

“And I’ll probably ask questions that make me sound like an idiot.”

A laugh escapes me. “Okay. You and Mom and everyone have the right to take time to get used to this.”

“But you’re my son.”

Simple and matter-of-fact. Like there was never going to be another answer.

“You don’t stop being my son because you fell in love with a man.”

Shit. I’m gonna cry.

My vision blurs. “I love you, Dad.”

He steps forward then, awkward as ever, wrapping me in one of those brief, shoulder-clapping hugs that Irish fathers seem born knowing how to give.

“I love you too.” We stay like that for a second. Then he pulls back, clearing his throat. “So…”

I sniff once.