The morning after the exchange with Camila, I sit across from my parents at the kitchen table, a dull weight pressing against my chest. I know what I have to do. I've known for a while now. But it doesn't make the conversation any easier.
I've gotten good at hiding things over the years—keeping the personal stuff separate from the public stuff, from the "everything's fine" face I wear at school, with my friends, and especially with my parents. But this? This isn't something I can hide anymore.
Alex's dad is unpredictable, and Jordan—god, Jordan—might show up anytime. I'm not sure what's going on with him, but after the text Alex showed me about him visiting Alex's dad, I know it's only a matter of time before he makes some kind of move.
My parents are used to me being… reserved. I'm quiet around them, mostly. It's not that I don't love them or that I feel some kind of resentment, but we've never had that "sit down and talk about your feelings" relationship. It's more transactional. So, when I get a sudden burst of bravery and decide to do the thing I never do—talk—I realize how much harder this is going to be than I anticipated.
I sit up straight, push my phone away, and breathe in deeply. "Mom, Dad," I say, my voice sounding strangely distant, like it belongs to someone else. "I need to talk to you about something important. About Alex."
Mom looks up from her coffee cup, her expression softening. "What's going on with Alex?" she asks, setting her cup down. Dad shifts in his chair too, like he knows this isn't just the usual chit-chat.
I glance at them both. "I think it's time you guys know what's going on." I take a pause to gather my thoughts. "We're together. Alex and me. Although I think Dad already figured due to the uhm...encounter...the other day"
My mom nods slowly, like she's processing the words, but there's no surprise in her eyes. I've always been the kind of kid who keeps his cards close to his chest, so it's probably not shocking to her that I'm just now saying something about my personal life.
"There's more," I add, the words hanging in the air. "Alex has had a pretty complicated history with his family, especially his dad. I don't want to surprise you, but… his dad might show up here at some point."
I can't bring myself to tell them everything—how Alex's dad isn't exactly a fan of him being with me, or the fact that he's not the kind of guy who just lets things go. I can't even bring up the part where he might have casually told Jordan where Alex is living now. "It's just… complicated. I don't want to surprise you with anything that might come up," I say, trying to keep my voice level.
Dad finally speaks up, his tone gruff but not unkind. "If something's going on with his family, we'll deal with it. Just don't be surprised if things get messy. You've never kept your relationships private before, so this one's no different."
I feel a pang in my chest, unsure if I'm ready for everything to go public, but the words of reassurance from my parents are enough to settle my nerves a bit.
"Thank you," I say softly. "I just needed you to know, in case anything weird happens. And just so you know, Camila's still waiting for her results, too. We're all kind of in this weird limbo together." I chuckle lightly, but the heaviness in the room doesn't quite lift.
Dad gives a small nod, his eyes softening for the first time in a while. "I'll keep that in mind," he says, though he's still distant in a way that tells me he's processing more than he's letting on.
Later that afternoon, I'm sitting on the couch in the living room, scrolling through my emails again. I haven't checked since the morning, but maybe—just maybe—the universe will be kind and send me an acceptance email from the university I've applied to.
No such luck.
I sigh, throwing my phone down next to me. It's a waiting game. But it's a hard one to play, especially when you feel like your future is dangling on the edge of a cliff.
As I'm about to reach for my phone again to check in on Camila, the doorbell rings.
I get up, not expecting anyone, but when I open the door, my stomach twists in a way I wasn't expecting.
It's Alex's dad.
My heart skips a beat, and for a second, I wonder if this is about to be some awkward confrontation. His presence alone makes everything feel tense. His sharp suit and cold expression are enough to make me want to close the door and pretend I didn't see him.
But then he speaks, his voice surprisingly calm, "Alex home?"
Before I can answer, Alex appears behind me, frozen for a second, probably as surprised as I am to see him standing there.
"What do you want?" Alex asks, his voice low but steady.
His dad doesn't flinch. "Just came by. Thought we'd have a chat."
I glance between them, unsure of how to handle this. But Alex just steps aside, giving his dad room to enter, and I follow them both into the living room, unsure of what's going to happen next.
After a tense silence, Alex's dad finally speaks again, his tone strangely less hostile than it used to be. "I know I haven't been the best father. Hell, I haven't even been a good one. But I'm not here to fight. Not today, at least."
The air between them is thick with unspoken history. Alex doesn't reply at first, his arms crossed over his chest, clearly holding back everything he wants to say. I sit silently, watching the dynamic unfold.
For the first time in what feels like forever, Alex's dad looks almost… human. Maybe even regretful.
"I've been thinking," he starts, his voice quieter now. "I've made mistakes. Big ones. I'm not going to pretend I didn't."
Alex's eyes narrow, but I can see something shifting inside of him, something small, almost imperceptible.
"Look," his dad says, standing up. "I don't know if I'm ever going to be the father you want. Hell, I don't even know if I'm capable of that. But you're my son. And I'm not going anywhere, at least not like I used to."
The words aren't perfect, but they're a start.
Alex's dad looks at me for a brief moment before turning to Alex again. "You're here now. And that's what matters."
Alex's shoulders loosen just a bit, though I can see the weight of years of tension still hanging in the air. The atmosphere isn't perfect. It's not even close. But, for the first time in a long time, it feels like maybe—just maybe—something might be healing.
As Alex's dad leaves, the silence is thick with everything unspoken, but the tension that's been there for years is… slightly less unbearable.
Later, I sit with Alex on the couch, his hand resting gently on mine.
"That was… unexpected," I say, still trying to process it all.
He sighs, his eyes distant. "Yeah. I didn't think he'd ever say anything like that. But I'm still not sure where we go from here."
I squeeze his hand. "One step at a time."
He smiles, the faintest flicker of hope in his eyes. "Yeah. One step."