Page 54 of After the Rain

"It's that obvious?"

"To someone who's been there? Yeah, it is. Wade, whatever you decide about coming out, about pursuing something with Ezra, just... don't let fear make the choice for you. I've seen too many people spend their lives wondering 'what if' because they were too scared to find out."

"What would you do? If you were me?"

"I'd be terrified," Marcus said honestly. "But I'd also be brave. Because the alternative—living the rest of your life as someone you're not—that's not really a choice at all."

As I drove home, I felt something I hadn't experienced in weeks—clarity. Not the desperate, grasping kind of clarity that comes from wanting easy answers, but the deep, settled kind that comes from finally understanding who you are.

Back home, the house was quiet. Jazz gave me a small, knowing smile from the couch as she muted the TV. “He didn’t budge,” she whispered, nodding toward the hallway. “Kid sleeps like a rock.”

“Thanks,” I said softly. “Really.”

She just waved me off.

I checked on Cooper before she left. He was sleeping peacefully in his bed, one arm wrapped around the stuffed dinosaur he'd had since he was two. Looking at him, I felt a fierce protectiveness rise in my chest. Whatever happened next, I would make sure he knew he was loved unconditionally. That authenticity was safe in our family. That courage mattered more than comfort.

The phone calls from Sarah's parents were going to continue. Mrs. Garrett was going to keep spreading her poison through thecommunity. People were going to judge me, question my fitness as a father, maybe even try to dismantle the life I’d worked so hard to rebuild.

But I was done letting fear make my choices for me.

In my office, I sat down at my computer and opened a new document. If I was going to do this—if I was going to come out publicly at Cooper's birthday party—I needed to be prepared for every possible consequence. I needed to know my legal rights regarding custody, understand what professional protections I had as a business owner, research resources for LGBTQ+ parents in small communities.

This wasn't going to be a leap of faith. It was going to be a calculated act of courage.

I spent the next three hours researching, making notes, building a foundation of knowledge that would help me protect Cooper and myself, no matter what Sarah's parents threw at us.

By the time I finally went to bed, I had a plan.

Tomorrow, I would start putting that plan into action. I would call my lawyer about custody protections, reach out to LGBTQ+ advocacy groups for guidance, maybe even contact other gay parents who'd navigated similar challenges.

But first, I would talk to Ezra. Because whatever courage I was going to need for the battles ahead, I wanted to find it with him by my side.

The fear was still there, sharp and persistent. Sarah's parents were building a case against me, Mrs. Garrett was spreading poison through the community, and I was about to make myself vulnerable in ways that could destroy the life I'd built.

But underneath it all was something stronger—the knowledge that I was finally becoming the person I was meant to be, the father Cooper deserved, the man who might be worthy of building something real and honest and beautiful.

The work ahead was going to be terrifying. But it was also going to be mine.

FOURTEEN

VISIBLE TARGETS

EZRA

Monday morning arrived with the kind of crushing weight that made me want to turn around and drive straight back home. The formal letter waiting on my desk confirmed what I'd been dreading for weeks—Mrs. Garrett's poison had reached the district level.

"Community concerns about professional conduct and appropriateness." The clinical language couldn't disguise what this really was: a coordinated attack on my career because some people couldn't stomach the idea of a gay teacher in their children's classroom.

Brook found me staring at the letter, my hands shaking slightly as I held the official district letterhead.

"This is bullshit, Ezra," she said, reading over my shoulder. "Everyone knows you're an excellent teacher. This is homophobic harassment disguised as professional concern."

Her anger on my behalf helped, but righteous indignation doesn't protect careers when prejudice masquerades as policy. Dr. Williams confirmed as much when she called me to her office before first bell.

"I've been instructed to document all interactions between you and the Harrison family," she said, her expression grave. "They want me to review your classroom curriculum for 'age-inappropriate content' and monitor your professional boundaries more closely. Ezra, I want you to know this isn't coming from me."

"Then where is it coming from?"

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