Comfy Closets

45|| Comforts and Embraces

(A/N - WARNING: Strong, offensive language used in this chapter)

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Silence reigned in the house. As if it was just me again.

I waited for him to say something, anything, as he stood by the door. With mouth agape, nothing came out.

I subtly pinched my thigh just to make sure I wasn’t imagining this all, as idiotic as that may seem, but it turns out that yes, my dad was still there and looking at me with clear shock painted on his face.

Words finally left his mouth a minute later, although, to me, it had felt like an eternity.

“Are you really?”

My heart instantly lodged itself into my throat. Now I was the one who couldn’t speak.

This was happening all over again.

When he saw the expression on my face, he quickly continued. “I mean, I just wanted to clarify. This is all kind of surprising, is all…”

I let out a breath. “Yes, Dad, I am. I’m gay.”

The man nodded slowly, a look of thoughtfulness on his face. “Okay. Alright. I see.” His grey orbs analysed me for a second. “Why does it look like you’ve been crying, then?”

I didn’t respond to that, biting my lower lip to try and stop the trembling, hoping it’d be enough to push back the overflow of emotions from spilling out again. He seemed to know the answer to his question already.

Lowering his bag onto the floor, Dad approached me and sat against the wall to my left. “Alyssa,” he started softly, “honey, I’m not against it. I want you to know that. In fact, I understand all of this and I’m not gonna force you to be something you’re not. If you don’t want to talk about it now, though, that’s fine. I just want to know if you’re okay.”

I gazed at those understanding, grey eyes and felt this pressure in my throat ease up at his words. He wasn’t mad. He wasn’t looking to change me. And as I comprehended the thought, I felt this unbearable weight that had been sitting on me, start to slip away. Not like before, when I first told Mom, but enough to take away the dark, scary thoughts that had been festering within since then.

I smiled weakly. “I’m okay now.” He returned my smile and squeezed my forearm briefly.

“What happened, then?”

I breathed out with reluctance. “I told Mom that I was gay, and she didn’t react well to it.”

He ruminated on it for a second. “Have you been sitting here since…”

“Yeah.”

We didn’t say anything for a bit, but after a while of sitting here with him, I felt like I had to emphasize this one point, as if to prove my certainty to him. “Dad, I’ve known since I was fourteen.”

I felt his gaze on the side of my face. “Why haven’t you said anything since then?”

It was a simple question, said out of curiosity I realised, and I was unbelievable glad that he hadn’t meant it as an accusation. “I wanted to be sure, I guess. You know, experience things myself before I said anything? And I did, and I’m sure.” I gulped. “But… I was also scared of telling you guys, and of the reaction I’d get. I didn’t say anything until I felt I was ready, and I thought I was when I told Mom, but…”

“What did she say?”

“She said I couldn’t be gay. That it was impossible,” I muttered, gazing down at my wringing hands.