I wanted them to understand. I needed them to know that this wasn’t something reckless, something I hadn’t thought through. That it wasn’t just teenage stupidity, some impulsive mistake.

But more than that, I didn’t want to live in fear of losing them. Arthur and Jenna Price had raised me like their own, had given me a home, a second chance at a life I never thought I’d have.

But Beverly had been their daughter first.

The words that had been resting on my tongue all day suddenly felt heavy, like they might crumble under their own weight. Because this wasn’t just a confession—it was a shift, a moment in time that would divide my life into a before and an after. I had no illusions about that. It might change the way they trusted me. Hell, it might change everything.

I was afraid of losing their respect.

I didn’t want to see my mother’s face fall, didn’t want to see my father’s jaw tighten, didn’t want to watch them exchange looks and wonder where they had gone wrong with me.

I still wanted to be someone my father could be proud of. I still wanted to be someone my mother could look at and see as her son.

I clenched my jaw, my grip tightening around the wheel as my mind raced ahead to all the possibilities, all the ways this could go wrong. Would Dad be angry? Disappointed? Would he look at me like I was something less? Would he look at me and see something tainted, something unworthy of the second chance he had given me?

My father, who had built his life on duty, lived by rules and expectations. My father, who believed in honor, in integrity, in doing the right thing. My father, who had never explicitly told me who I was allowed to love but had told me who I was meant to be.

And Jenna…who had held my hand when I had night terrors. My mother, who had run her fingers through my hair when I couldn’t sleep. My mother, who had kissed my forehead and whispered that I was good, that I was hers, that I was loved.

I had spent my whole life trying to earn their respect. Trying to be the kind of son they could be proud of, the kind of man who deserved the second chance they had given me.

Would this take that away?

Would she look at Beverly and see something shameful, something unnatural? Would she blame herself for not keeping us apart? Would they look at me like I had ruined something sacred? Would Mom cry? Would they think I was taking advantage of the life they had given me?

Would Dad tell me I had to leave?

I didn’t know.