Page 34 of Rhett & Moses
A pause, the weight of disappointment traveling through the connection. “I had hoped you might reconsider. The Hayes family has been good to us over the years. Your accusations, without concrete proof..."
“I have proof,” I interrupted, something I rarely dared to do with my father. “The school pin and Soren’s own words. But even if I didn’t, it wouldn’t change the truth of what happened.”
“Truth is subjective, son. Especially after twenty years. Anyone will say anything with persuasion.”
“No, it’s not,” I replied, surprised at my own boldness giving way to a calm certainty. “What happened, just happened. Soren did what he did. I made the choices I made and looking back I should have maybe done something different. None of that changes, just because time has passed or because acknowledging it is inconvenient for your social standing.”
Another pause, longer this time. “Your mother and I have discussed this at length. If you insist on maintaining these allegations, we will have no choice but to distance ourselves publicly. You understand what that means.”
The threat was clear, but strangely, it didn’t carry the weight it once might have. “I understand. I’m sorry you feel that’s necessary.”
“It is,” he said, a note of finality in his voice. “You’ve made your choice, Moses. I hope you can live with the consequences.”
“I’ve been living with consequences for twenty years, Father,” I replied, my voice steady despite the ache in my chest.“At least this time, they’re consequences I’ve chosen, not ones forced on me by someone else’s actions.”
There was nothing more to say after that. We exchanged terse goodbyes, and I ended the call, letting the phone drop into my lap.
“You, okay?” Rhett asked softly.
“No,” I admitted. “But I will be.”
He pulled me closer, and I allowed myself to lean on him, to draw strength from his unwavering presence. We sat like that for a long time, the sun climbing higher in the sky, the world continuing around us.
Eventually, my phone buzzed with a text from Bronwyn:
When you’re done sorting out your familial disaster, there’s a gin delivery that needs your expert opinion. Also, Vanessa called. Apparently, Soren’s skipping town. Again.
I showed the message to Rhett, who snorted softly as we made our way back inside to the bar. “Some things never change. Still running away when things get tough.”
“Not us,” I said, the realization striking me with sudden clarity. “Not anymore.”
Rhett’s smile was like the sunrise after the longest night. “No. Not anymore.”
We walked back to the bar hand in hand, ignoring the curious glances from passersby. The reporters had mostly dispersed, my statement apparently satisfying enough of their curiosity for now. As we approached the back entrance, Rhett paused, turning to face me.
“Whatever happens with your parents, with the fallout from all this,” he said, his eyes serious. “I’m here. For as long as you want me.”
The simple declaration, the certainty behind it, settled something restless within me. For twenty years, I’d carried the burden of secrets and shame alone, convinced that was my lot in life. Now, standing in the alley behind the bar I co-owned in the town that had once cast me out, I finally understood that some burdens weren’t meant to be carried alone.
“I want you,” I said, the words both a confession and a promise. “I’ve always wanted you.”
Rhett’s smile deepened, his eyes crinkling at the corners in a way that made my heart skip. “Good. Because I plan to stick around for a very long time.”
He leaned in, kissing me with a tenderness that belied the passion I knew simmered beneath the surface. When we separated, I felt steadier, more certain of my path forward than I had in years.
“Come on,” I said, pulling him toward the door. “Let’s go deal with that gin delivery. And then maybe we can talk about what happens after the reunion ends.”
“After?” Rhett echoed, following me inside.
“When you go back to Boston and I go back to Atlanta,” I clarified, the reality of our separate lives a sobering reminder amidst the emotional intensity of the past few days.
Rhett’s expression grew thoughtful. “Actually, I’ve been thinking about that. I have a proposal of sorts. Not that kind,” he clarified quickly, seeing my startled look. “Though maybe someday. But a suggestion for how we might make this, us, work.”
“I’m listening,” I said, curious despite the flutter of anxiety his words provoked.
“Let’s talk about it later,” he replied, pressing a quick kiss to my lips. “When we have time to really discuss it. For now, let’s focus on getting through the rest of this reunion in one piece.”
As we entered the back room where Bronwyn was cataloging the gin delivery, I felt a strange sense of peace settle over me. The fallout from my revelation was far from over, there would be more conversations with my parents, more social media storms, more curious glances and whispered comments.
