Page 65 of Finding His Silver Fox Daddy

“Damn right.” I sighed. “We coexisted in the same house, in the same bed, going through the motions for a couple of years until I caught her outside the bathroom at her work’s spring gala fucking a coworker.”

Tris gasped. “Oh, shit! That had to suck.”

I nodded my appreciation for his commiseration. “It really sucked, but it started to wake me up to the reality that we weren’t really in a marriage anymore. I’m ashamed to admit it took her stating she wanted to move out and serving me divorce papers to really reclaim my power—and actually explore my sexual identity.”

Tristan reached for my shoulder, rubbing it soothingly. “Henry, I’m so sorry you had to go through all that—and alone.”

“Thanks, baby.” I rested my hand on the back of the one he had on my shoulder, threading my fingers through his. “But it was the wake-up call I needed, and it gave me permission to start figuring out what I really wanted out of life. I stopped attending our church, unwilling to endure their hate. My parents cut me off as soon as I left, and I haven’t talked to them since.”

“Oh, Henry.” Tristan squeezed my hand, his expression pained.

“Yeah. But honestly, it was a blessing in disguise. My relationship with them has never been healthy; I didn’t have the best childhood. My father would either make passive-aggressive ‘jokes’ about me being bad at something to make himself look better by comparison or fly off the handle at the smallest innocuous thing. He even smacked me around two different times. And every time my dad started yelling, my mother would fall silent, cower in the shadows to avoid being attacked herself. I learned to stay quiet from her because speaking up meant being berated, ridiculed, or otherwise chastised. That’s why, as an adult, I struggle to admit what I really want or need.”

Tristan’s eyes were sad as I released him to fold my hands in my lap. When he rested his hand on my knee, I drew strength from his tender touch.

“My father was a bastard, and the church played a big part in that. The religious system I grew up under elevates abusers and narcissists, even rewards them for their toxic behavior, while they oppress everyone else.”

I fell silent then, letting him process my revelations while I just tried not to choke up at the memories.

After a minute, I cleared my throat, adjusting in my seat. “Anyway, once Carrie left, I didn’t know who I was exactly; I just knew I was attracted to men exclusively. So I finally took the time to figure out what I wanted that to look like.

“And the freedom, Tris—holy fuck, the freedom. Without the chains of the church and my toxic parents holding me down, I got to explore who I really was. I’d been a fairly successful accountant for years, but I’d always wanted to be an entrepreneur, own a restaurant or something like it. While trying to meet other men and looking for a gay bar nearby, I realized there weren’t many good ones, so the dream was born. When the bar a few doors down went up for sale, I took it as a sign. I opened it not too long after my divorce was final, and Mix It Up was finally real.”

Tristan smiled at the happy ending to my sad tale. “And where did the Daddy revelation come in?”

“In a word: porn.” He chuckled, and I smiled. “But the longer version is that I started exploring kink with porn, sure, and I even thought I might be a sub for a hot minute. But seeing the Daddies in your Daddies and Subs Club really sealed the deal for me. I saw myself in the way they treated you boys.”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Then why did you never join? I’m sure Ethan would have let you.”

I smiled. “He’s asked, multiple times. By the time I’d figured it out, though, it felt weird to just suddenly out myself like that. But it has been lonely without you guys knowing that about me.”

Tris’s hand found mine. “Selfishly, I’m glad you told me.”

I squeezed his hand back. “I’m glad, too.” I raised his hand and kissed it. “And I’m glad I found you. I’m so thankful you were willing to give me a chance.”

His smile was radiant. “Me, too. Thanks for sharing your story. If it’s okay to say, your parents seem terrible, but your church is the worst. It’s unbelievable that people still attend and believe that way.”

“It really is astounding that people still hold those beliefs. And with the world the way it is right now, it’s almost like they feel they have permission to put their bigotry and hate on full display, despite claiming to be the religion of love.”

“There’s no hate like Christian love, after all.”

I scoffed. “Exactly. And they’re determined to dig in their heels and cling to dead beliefs despite all the evidence to the contrary. Their systems are oppressive, but they’re too scared to question them because they believe their eternal destiny hinges on those systems. Their religion tells them they’re broken then offers them a savior, which can sound like good news until you realize that ‘good news’ comes at a cost: their humanity.”

Tears welled in my boy’s eyes, and I returned a watery smile.

“I will say this one last thing before I stop ranting: Those same religious systems that espouse love and ‘freedom in Christ’ actually keep abusers in power and promote misogyny, racism, xenophobia, homophobia, and transphobia while upholding patriarchy and white supremacy. It’s the opposite of what Jesus—who they claim to follow—was all about. It’s truly disgusting.”

“It really is. My parents are ridiculously homophobic—but this is next level.” Tris took a breath, and I followed suit, cleansing my lungs as he continued. “Are you okay? After unleashing all that, I mean? It sounded like a lot, and I didn’t go through it.”

I nodded. “It was a lot, and I’m still unraveling things I was taught. The whole deconstruction process is a mindfuck, it’s complicated as hell, and the grief around it is astounding. I’ve lost my entire family, you know? But I’ve found a few good support groups online and some friends I’ll chat with from time to time—and that’s not even mentioning the found family we’ve built at Mix It Up.” We shared a smile. “There are a lot of us trying to heal from conservative Christianity. It’s hard, but it’s nice to know I’m not alone.”

Tristan leaned forward then and pulled me into a hug. “I’m glad you got out, Daddy.”

My eyebrow quirked up at the change in his tone. “Oh, it’s Daddy now?”

Tristan lowered his gaze and blinked up at me through his lashes. He was a vision of demure and enticing, and my mouth literally started watering. “Yes, Daddy.” He pushed to his feet then reached down to help me to mine. Once we stood face to face, he flashed the sexiest smirk, raised up on his toes, and kissed my nose. “And I think we should celebrate your liberation.”

I guffawed. “Haven’t we been doing that all along?”