Total pages in book: 46
Estimated words: 45361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 45361 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 227(@200wpm)___ 181(@250wpm)___ 151(@300wpm)
“I guess I know what this is about.”
“Has your mom told you?” he asks. “About me and…”
“Dad?”
He grimaces, a flicker of the old Graham, but then his shoulders slump. It’s like watching the pain he feels at Dad’s passing in real time.
“He was a special man. He had his problems. He never cared for me like I cared for him, and what we did was wrong and unfair to your mother.”
“Is that why you gave me this job?”
“Initially, yes,” he says. “It was guilt, but I wouldn’t have kept you if you weren’t good at it. I meant what I said. You’re excellent.”
The compliment bolsters me. I never want to feel like I’ve got an opportunity for any other reason.
“What did your friend say?” I ask.
“That your step-uncle scared the living hell out of him, and…”
I can’t take the waiting.
“And that we’re in love,” I say breathlessly, and then my own words replay in my mind.
In love, on a loop. It feels true. It is true.
“In so many words,” Graham replies.
“This is the part where you tell me I’m sick. I’m disgusting. I need to be arrested. This is the part where you tell me I’m fired because you don’t work with freaks. Is that it?”
“No, actually.” He leans forward. “Life’s funny, full of strange coincidences, and this is one of them.”
“What is?” I ask.
“I was a late bloomer in coming out of the closet.”
“Okay…”
“Twenty years old, and I tried to fight it. This was before your dad. Anyway, one day, I met a man. I hadn’t seen him in over a decade, since I was a kid. He and my stepdad weren’t on the best terms, but my stepdad passed, and my mom needed the help.”
I wait for him to go on. He’s speaking with a stiff tone, as though it’s challenging to push the words out, but he’s doing it, for some reason, for my benefit.
“He was my step-uncle, Layla,” Graham says, looking at me steadily. “Over twenty-five years older than me, and technically—legally—family. What we did together by falling in love was wrong. It was beyond taboo.”
My heart is hammering. He could just as easily be describing Miles and me. It’s more than that. Just seeing Graham so emotional and kind is as if he’s a different man.
“We were so in love,” he goes on. “He showed me what it means to be with a person. I knew the rest of the world would judge us, but I couldn’t stop, and neither could he. If he hadn’t become ill, we would still be together today. We would never have stopped.”
He trembles. I reach across the table, stunned at myself, when I softly take his hand, forgetting all the times he’s railed on me in the kitchen.
“My friends told me what your step-uncle said,” Graham continues. “I could hardly believe it.”
I remember what Miles said about destiny and wonder if it’s at work here, too.
“I knew I had to tell you. What you’re experiencing might not be normal, but there’s nothing wrong with it. He didn’t raise you. He’s not blood-related. He just happens to be your stepdad’s brother. That’s all.”
“Thank you,” I whisper. “Really. You don’t know how badly I needed to hear that.”
“This doesn’t mean I’m going to become a teddy bear in the kitchen,” he says, withdrawing his hand and standing, but he’s got a soft smile on his face, not the usual twist to his lips.
“I wouldn’t expect any less,” I say, grinning.
“What are you going to do?” he asks.
“That depends. Are you going to tell my mom?”
He shakes his head. “But you should before it gets out of hand. Before you can’t turn back.”
“I’m already there. I want to be with Miles forever, and he wants the same. If Mom and Noah tell us we have to stop, I’m not sure what we’ll do or how we’ll function.”
“Then you better fire that bullet. Get it over with.”
“What if I can’t?”
“I know how hard it is. When Kenneth and I told my mom, she hated us for a long time. For years. But she couldn't keep hating when she saw how happy we were together. She had to admit that we had something special.”
“I don’t want Mom to hate me for years.”
“Are you prepared to leave your step-uncle?”
“No. Never.”
“You’re stuck between a rock and a hard place, but you must choose.”
“What are you going to do?” Tess says on speakerphone as I drive home, wringing my hands around the steering wheel, sweat coating every inch of me. It’s as if my body is ramping up for something, putting me in fight-or-flight, but I won’t fly. I won’t run. I have to fight for Miles and me.
“I can’t keep lying and running,” I say.
“Don’t do anything you’ll regret,” Tess murmurs.
“I won’t know if I regret it until it’s over. Mom and Noah will hate us, or they won’t.”