Page 22 of Christmas Mafia Prince
“Oh, but he’s like one of the girls.Yaas?” Juliana asks, focusing on me as she makes that embarrassing attempt at relating to me as a gay man.
While I do appreciate that she’s on my side… what the fuck?
“I am definitely not ‘one of the girls’.” And I’m not even very bendy, so I’m not about to humiliate myself in front of Bree who looks like a yoga goddess. I bet sherunsthat class.
Uncle Roger chuckles. “The makeup would have fooled me.”
Damen sighs. “Weren’t you in your twenties when the hottest singers all looked like him?”
Roger gets flustered and grumbles. “Oh, well, times have changed.”
“Exactly. Times have changed, and you can’t go around spewing homophobic shit pretending it’s just jokes.”
I smirk and have an even bigger sip from my glass than before. It’s new to me that I don’t have to fight every single one of my battles myself until I’m bruised and battered. I stroke Damen’s thigh in appreciation under the table. Is it just me, or did he lean closer?
It feels so good to be appreciated.
Karl swirls wine in his glass, eyes like two shards of ice. “I don’t think you have any right to chastise your uncle, Damen, when you hid your sexuality from all of us and only choose to come out with it now. You knew very well Roger invited Samantha here, because we all approve of her and her family. This situation is not only embarrassing, but a waste of her precious time. You always have to create drama!”
Like he’s not the one yelling and stirring the pot.
Juliana shrugs as if her sole job is to oppose her own husband. “Oh, Karl. Lighten up. If the marriage does come to an end for some reason, at least there will be no children to worry about.”
Bree smirks and for the first time looks straight into my eyes. “Unless of course there’s something else we don’t know about.”
The insinuation comes out of nowhere, and what upsets me most is that she’s clearly trying to insult me with something that’snotan insult. I lose my cool.
“What? Are you asking whether I have a vagina? Because me being trans would have been so awful?” I spread my arms so fast I spill some of my drink. “Guess you’ll just never know. Maybe I do. Maybe I’ll pop out babies every year.”
Samantha chuckles with her eyes pinned to the piece of cake on her plate. “Sounds perfect. You wouldn’t even need a surrogate.”
Karl scowls, and I’m glad to see him out of his depth. “Do not encourage them!”
It gives me such a buzz that they might now really be wondering what’s in my pants. It’s rude, yes, but they started the whole thing! They can sit in their own transphobia until they get over themselves.
Roger waves his hand at his brother. “Oh, Karl, don’t worry about it. Who knows where these holidays will lead with a young lady as charming as Samantha here.”
My eyes feel like they’re bulging like Titus’s. Is he suggesting, right in front of me, that my husband might cheat? Poor Samantha starts choking on her cake. I bet she doesn’t want my sloppy seconds either.
Noise grows around us like a dense cloud, but when a carving knife stabs into the pristine wood of the table, everyone goes quiet, staring at Damen, who tightens his fingers around the handle and growls.
“Shut the fuck up. Are you really discussing my husband’s privates at the table? Whatever they are is our business. My life can get so dark, but his light always shines through to me. He knows and accepts everything about me. He supported my decision to come out to you all. I’ve finally found someone to love. You should be happy for me,” he finishes with a passion that makes me sink deeper into the chair.
It sounds way too real, which proves how good of a liar he can be.
It’s frightening because my stupid heart doesn’t know the difference and only beats faster when I look at him. “And I will always be at your side, Damen.” Am I lying? I don’t even know. The world is getting a bit fuzzy.
There’s a prolonged silence that doesn’t seem awkward to my drunken face, but probably is. Juliana breaks it by clearing her throat.
“Exactly. My son made his choice. Let’s just get to know his husband. What do you do for work, Killian?”
Now I wish the spotlight wasn’t on me. “I… um… I’m between jobs, actually. Like a Christmas break.” Does it sound better than ‘unemployed’? I don’t know.
Damen smiles at me, as if I’ve done the right thing by revealing the truth instead of pretending I’m someone I’m not. “My husband doesn’t have to have a stable job. I’ll always take care of you while you follow your heart.”
Maybe I’m already too drunk to see reason but when I look into Damen’s hazel eyes, half-concealed by the beautiful long lashes, it’s so easy to believe every single word he says to me is honest. That he’ll keep me, take care of me, that I’ll live a life without hardship, revolving only around making my husband happy while I go to concerts, shop, and (who knows?) maybe I’ll even learn to cook.
Karl’s scoff ruins the whiskey-laden fantasy. “Follow your heart. That’s for losers, not men like us.” He turns his wrath on Damen who ignores him in favor of stroking my arm. “The Van der Horns have duties, not just flights of fancy. Me and your mother married because we were a good match that benefitted the family!”
