Page 45 of Forgiving Utah
It's been years since I willingly spent time with anyone in my family, especially after how I was raised. Joel wasn't around much, if at all. Maybe now, we can try to put the past behind us.
“Looks good on you,” he says, nodding toward the bike.
“I know. I look sexy as hell on that thing.” Casting him a furtive glance, I let this last part slip out to gauge his reaction. “And so does my boyfriend.”
He turns toward me, lemonade halfway to his mouth. “What did you say?”
“Boyfriend,” I sigh, disappointment flooding my chest at the shock and anger in his eyes. “I'm bi.”
Realistically, I knew this would likely be his reaction. Although the guy is sixteen years older than me, we were raised by the same piece of shit religious parents. I guess I just hoped that if there were one person in this family I could trust, it would be my older brother. Guess I was wrong.
The screen door creaks behind me, and Sarah—his wife—steps outside. “Devon,” she says softly. “Can you come here for a moment? We need to talk.”
Something in her expression sends my pulse racing. “Uh… sure.” I brush my hands on my jeans and get up to follow, sending my brother a confused look. He won't meet my gaze.
Shit, did she hear what I just said? Is that what this is about?
Inside, the air feels thick and heavy. Sarah leads me into their fancy dining room table and takes a seat. Joel stands behind her with his jaw clenched.
“Is this because I like guys?” I ask, sliding into a chair slowly.
No one answers, but Sarah's eye twitches. Anger fizzles under my skin.
“Figures you'd be just like him,” I mutter, patting my pocket for my keys. Should never have let my guard down. I fucking knew better, and I did it anyway.
Joel's brows slam down. “Just like who?”
“Our father. He's a bigot, too.”
Sarah licks her trembling lips and takes hold of her husband's hand. “That's… well, that's actually what we want to talk to you about. That man, Devon, he's not…”
She trails off, suddenly pale.
“Not what? Are you okay?”
Sarah swallows hard. “Devon, the man you grew up calling your father is actually your grandfather.”
My brain stutters to a halt. “What?”
“He’s not your biological father.”
A chill ripples down my spine. “What the hell do you mean he’s not my—”
Joel cuts in quickly like he’s trying to rip off a Band-Aid. “He’s not your dad. I am. Sarah's your mother.”
The room shifts, almost upending me from my chair. “What the fuck are you talking about? Of course, he’s my dad. He raised me. He—”
“He raised you,” Sarah interrupts softly, “but he isn’t your real father. And he didn’t want you to know. We disagreed for years on when to tell you. Or if we should tell you at all.”
I can only stare at her, completely speechless. My apparent… mother? What the fuck?
“No,” I spit, getting to my feet. “No. What is this? Some fucked-up intervention or something?”
“Dev,” Joel warns under his breath, “sit down.”
“Fuck you! You don’t get to order me around.”
Sarah wipes at her cheeks with a sniffle. “We shouldn't have waited this long to tell you. I’m so sorry. When we adopted Logan after giving you up, we never thought—”
