Page 52 of Sinful Sharing

I lift my head. “Yes.”

The word leaves me in a quiet breath. It feels terrifying, irreversible, as if I’m stepping off a cliff. Then, almost immediately, something loosens inside my chest. The secret I’ve carried for years is no longer trapped under my ribs. I’m still scared. My mother’s reaction could change everything. But for the first time in my life, I’m sitting in front of her as myself.

Her face crumples, the sight nearly breaking me. My vision blurs. For one horrible second, I think I’ve lost her, but then she slides off the desk and cups my face. “Oh, sweetheart.”

The dam bursts, rolling streams of tears down my cheeks. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” She shakes her head. “That’s not what this is, honey—look at me.” She tilts my head, forcing me to meet her stare. “I love you. I don’t care if you’re gay.”

She hugs me to her chest and rocks me as if I were a toddler again. I release everything I’ve been holding back for so long. I was so wrong. I spent years hiding who I was, fearing she wouldn’t accept me. Fearing I wouldn’t be enough.

Wasting so much time.

Feeling as if someone had lifted a weight off my shoulders, I ease out of her arms. As she wipes my wet cheeks, I notice a wary look on her face. “Mom?”

With a gentle sigh, she smooths over my eyebrows. “We are going to send out a release at noon.”

“Okay...” I expected they’d want to do that. What I don’t understand is why she’s staring as if I’m a ticking time bomb.

“Stephen and the team are preparing a statement, but um...” She fiddles with the collar on my sweater. “It won’t mention anything about you being gay.”

“Seriously?”

Another sigh, rougher this time. “Honey, I don’t care if you like men, okay? You just can’t come out.”

The air leaves my lungs. My jaws slacken. She eases away from me and returns to the edge of the desk. I can already feel the distance between us. “Mom...I just told you the truth. What do you mean, I can’t?”

She stares at me as if I had asked the stupidest question in history. “The team has been working overnight to create a sensible cover story. If you come out, it will only make things more complicated. I might have to kiss any chance of winning goodbye.”

“Maybe it’s just me, but I don’t think my being gay affects how well you would represent the district.”

“You know the kind of donors that are backing me, sweetie. Even if they accept that I have a gay son, they won’t overlook that you slept with your uncle—“

“Step-uncle,“ I remind her through gritted teeth. “And what happened between Roman and me is nobody’s business.”

Mom pinches the space between her eyebrows. “Please. I spent the last twenty-four hours trying not to imagine anything between you two, and I’d like to keep it that way.”

“The point is, I’m not running for a seat, Mom. My personal life shouldn’t affect you.”

“But it does.” Her expression turns pleading. “Taylor, please. Just keep a low profile for now. For me.”

Three quick taps on the door interrupt the tense silence. It flies open before Mom opens her mouth. A tall, red-haired man in his late thirties sails through the door, an iPad in hand, an anxious expression on his narrow face.

Mom groans. “Stephen, if it’s more awful news, I don’t want to hear it.”

Stephen hesitates, his gaze sweeping between us, then he wiggles the iPad. “I just received an email from Alan Riddleston’s office. He is requesting—no, demanding—a meeting this afternoon.”

Riddleston is Mom’s biggest donor. For a moment, I could probably hear a pin drop. Mom closes her eyes. “How far are we on the statement?” she finally asks in a weary tone.

“We’re still debating between two options,” Stephen mutters, glancing down at the screen. I can already tell I won’t like either of them.

“Taylor could confess that the video is real, that it was indeed his step-uncle in the video. Then, we would release this statement—“ he raises his hand as Mom huffs in protest. “Before you say anything, hear me out.”

Mom flashes her fingers impatiently, indicating for him to go on. He glances back at the iPad. I fold my arms across my chest.

“Losing his father to the system at such an early age left Taylor with a deep ache for guidance, protection, and approval that he never fully outgrew,” he reads. “It led to him becoming overly attached to the mentor figures in his life.”

I roll my eyes.