The Hidden Life (12 page)
“…because I’m gay.”
“…because I’m gay.”
“…because I’m gay.”
And what did that mean for me?
For us?
“you define yourself
by what you do
when the doing is
not a job,
rather a fire
within yourself.
the greatest tragedy the world
has ever told
you is that you
should be like someone
else.
you are what
no other soul is,
and those words alone should
decorate your mind
until your body falls to pieces.”
-Christopher Poindexter
Seth
I DON’T REMEMBER
walking back to my car. I don’t remember driving to my favorite pub. And I sure don’t remember how many drinks I had before Colin found me, a sobbing, slurring mess who could barely hold my head up off the table.
But I do remember waking up the next day in the arms of the man I’d loved for years, with a smile on my face and a fullness in my heart, hangover from hell be damned.
“Mornin’, sunshine,” Colin rasped in my ear before kissing the top of my head, as he felt me stir to life. “How ya feeling?”
“I’ve been worse.” I rolled onto my side and peered over at him with a wicked grin, ignoring the pounding in my head and the wool ball in the back of my throat.
With a throaty laugh, he shook his head. “I don’t doubt that. Now you wanna tell me why you hightailed your ass outta there yesterday without talking to me? Surely you knew I’d be waiting for you.”
I shrugged and looked up at the ceiling. “I dunno. It was a lot to take in at once. Overwhelming. I needed some space to think.”
“You mean to drink?”
“Well, that too.” I chuckled, returning my gaze to his. “My friend Jack Daniels is quite the philosopher, holding all kinds of answers about the meaning of life and the ways of the heart.”
With another deep laugh I felt vibrating inside my own chest, he leaned down until the tips of our noses touched, his warm breath feathering across my lips. “And what kind of answers did he give you yesterday? Hopefully ones that said you should forgive your boyfriend for acting like a self-absorbed, pompous asshole for the last several years.”
“My boyfriend?” I wrinkled my forehead with mock confusion. “Pretty sure I don’t have one of those.”
A feral growl tore through the room, and before I knew it, I was flat on my back with a scowling, six-and-a-half-foot, two-hundred-and-forty-pound Colin hovering directly over me. The corners of my mouth twitched as I fought off the smile threatening to take over my face.
“Are you gonna make this more difficult than it needs to be?” His green eyes burned with an intensity I hadn’t seen in a long time. Maybe not ever. “You know I love you, Seth. I’ve never stopped loving you. You’re it for me, always have been. For a long time, I’ve put more value on what others think, what they may say if they knew the truth about me, than I have on our relationship. And I’m so damn sorry for that. I’m sorry it took this whole mess with Monroe and Oliver to make me realize what’s really important in life… what I should’ve grasped a long time ago
— you and Monroe
. The only two people who know and love the real me.”
Pausing, he brushed his lips over mine in the lightest of kisses. “I’ll do whatever it takes to show you I’m fully devoted to making this work. I won’t promise it’ll be easy, because Lord knows there’s a million people out there that will want to follow our every move, doing anything they can to break us up. But if you’re willing to give me
— to give
us
— another shot, I promise this time, I’ll come through in the clutch.”
His corny pun on the nickname he’d carried around since college was what did me in… not that I ever had any intention on not forgiving him. But that, that right there, was why I loved him. Because no matter how many game-winning touchdown passes he threw, or how many magazine covers he graced, or how much money he made, when it all came down to it, he was still my Colin. The guy who stole my heart in a tree house all those summers ago. The guy who I loved enough to live a hidden life for. The guy who was my one and only true love.
“Deal,” I smirked, “but tonight, you’re playing receiver.”
“never
ever
go by the
book
they will want
you to,
but you
mustn’t.
if the lust
is too strong,
tear one page
from a hundred books
and make your
own way.
there is no formula
for life,
no equation
on how to be a
human being.
find your freedom,
and breathe there.
drink there.
love there.”
-Christopher Poindexter
Eighteen months later
Colin
“
DID YOU KNOW
that 94% of giraffe sexual encounters are between two males?” Monroe asked as she sidled up next to me near the giraffe exhibit at the zoo, wearing a long, white sundress that made her look like an angel.
Laughing heartily, I twisted to meet her emerald green gaze, still overwhelmed with how beautiful she looked as a bride. Much more so than the day she married me. “Is that so, Miss National Geographic?”
“It was on Animal Planet, Mr. Smarty Pants,” she smirked up at me, her heart-shaped face glowing from the festivities, “and I’m a
Mrs.
now, in case you already forgot.”
I smiled and glanced over my shoulder at where Oliver, her husband as of about thirty minutes prior, stood chatting with Seth and several other wedding guests near the shared kangaroo and emu habitat, still in somewhat disbelief that she’d actually tied the knot in the Franklin Park Zoo.
“Excuse me,
Mrs
. Animal Planet,” I corrected, as I returned my attention to her, the corners of my mouth twitching with amusement. “And thank you for the random fact that I can use at my next Christians for Gay Rights rally. Surely, God must approve if he made most of the giraffes gay, right?”
“Surely,” she smarted, bumping her elbow against mine. “Just don’t bring up their four-foot penises, because it might make them all feel inadequate. I mean, even Oliver, who’s hung like a horse, got penis-envy when he heard about that.”
Covering my ears when she mentioned his package, I shook my head back and forth and crinkled my nose up. “No, no, no,” I sang out. “I love you to death, but there’s got to be a law that prohibits discussing the size of your new husband’s penis with your ex-husband. Even if our relationship wasn’t sexual, we just can’t.”
“A law, huh?” She rolled her eyes and chuckled then leaned in and wrapped her thin arms around my waist. “Speaking of new spouses, do you and Seth have plans for your first anniversary?”
Her mention of my husband of ten months triggered my focus to drop to the platinum band that encircled the ring finger of my left hand, and instinctively, a bright, proud smile spread across my face. Shortly after my coming-out press conference, Seth and I announced our relationship to the world, and although both of our parents took it well, it was safe to say his sister had not.
Adding fuel to the already raging fire of crazy inside her, Effie completely went off the deep end and had destroyed the Mending Hearts youth home, causing enough property damage to be booked with and found guilty of a Class D Criminal Mischief felony, and was sentenced to seven years in prison.
Thankfully, other than the usual senseless, uneducated name-calling we received on social media, Effie’s ordeal had been the worst backlash we’d had to deal with once all of the hysteria settled down. Leading the Patriots to a Super Bowl championship that year, and repeating it the next, didn’t hurt my approval rating in the city, and because Seth was such a likeable, intelligent, and charismatic person to begin with, most everyone accepted him with open arms.
The evening of the Second Annual New England Mending Hearts Gala, where Seth and I had assisted Oliver in his extravagant proposal to Monroe, I had been inspired by the romantic gesture, and later that night, I performed a proposal of my own. One that involved no elaborate scheme, no premeditated speech, and no ring.
Just me and the man I loved, and my loathing of how we didn’t live together.
I’d had enough of not waking up to his face every morning and not falling asleep wrapped in his arms, so the following Monday morning, we went down to the courthouse and made it official. Without a big announcement. Without a team press release. Without a circus of media following our every step. All we had was each other, and it couldn’t have been any better.
“Yeah,” I finally responded, locking our eyes together so I could see her reaction to mine and Seth’s exciting news, “we’re celebrating a couple month early and leaving next week to go pick up our baby daughter in Russia.”
“Your
daughter?!
” she screamed, so loud I was afraid everyone within a ten-mile radius could hear her.
Cutting my eyes over to Seth, I saw him and Oliver already headed in our direction, and I blew out a sigh of relief. “Yes, shhh,” I hushed her, “we haven’t told anyone in case something falls through. We didn’t want to be constantly reminded of it if that happens. So please don’t be upset with us.”
Monroe stood with her arms crossed over her chest and her mouth gaping open, when Oliver slid in behind her, locking his fingers around her center. “Hey, Rizzo, babe, what are you making all this racket about over here?”
“Colin and Seth are adopting a daughter from Russia next week and they didn’t even tell us,” she hissed under her breath. “We’re gonna be godparents, and we haven’t done anything to prepare! We must go shopping immediately! We have to set up a nursery! We need food and clothes and diapers! Oh, my God, I don’t even know how old she is or what her name is!”
The three of us guys all shared a laugh at her minor freak-out, before Seth looped his arm around my neck and leaned in for a kiss. I happily obliged.
“She’ll be almost three months old when we bring her home,” I informed her, thrilled to see how excited she was, “and we’ve decided to name her Eden, after the Hebrew word for ‘perfect.’” Glancing over at my husband, I grinned and stole another quick kiss. “Because that’s what she is, the perfect addition to our already perfect life.”
ERIN NOELLE IS a Texas native, where she lives with her husband and two young daughters. While earning her degree in History, she rediscovered her love for reading that was first instilled by her grandmother when she was a young child. A lover of happily-ever-afters, both historical and current, Erin is an avid reader of all romance novels.
Most nights you can find her cuddled up in bed with her husband, her Kindle in hand and a sporting event of some sorts on television.
Contact Erin