“I… don’t know. I love Nick but, sometimes, I’m… I think of losing him and there’s this fear that crawls into my gut. I thought—when I met someone, when I fell in love, you know, everything would be all right. But… I worry all the time that this isn’t real, that he’s gonna leave me. Jesus, Waldo, I feel like I’m going crazy. What’s wrong with me?”

Waldo laid a hand over Bill’s hand and gripped it. “You’re an amazing man, Billy Ryan. You done so much since you got here. Made friends, got an education, built a successful business, found Nick. But there’s still that boy inside you your daddy beat up and threw away. You still blame yourself for what happened back there. You’re still that boy who believes that loving another boy was wrong and he deserved to be punished for it. Now you love Nick. Your daddy’s not here to punish you for it. Don’t punish yourself. Don’t run Nick away because somewhere in your head there’s that little voice telling you it’s wrong to love him, that loving him is sick or a sin. That voice that says, queers deserve to be alone and miserable. Don’t listen to that voice.”

“I’m afraid of losing him, not running him away.”

“There’s different ways we punish ourselves for being queer,” Waldo said. “Most of us, the way we do it, is we never let ourselves fall in love because, we tell ourselves, no guy is ever good enough. There’s a better one just around the corner. The other way is to hold on to someone so tight he can’t breathe and has to break away. That’s what your head is telling you to do with Nick. That voice isn’t love, Billy, it’s hate—the hate you still have for yourself for being queer. We all got that voice in our heads, hon. Don’t listen to it.” He gripped Bill’s hand. “If you keep Nick on a tight leash, he’ll chew it off and run away. Let him have his freedom when he needs it. That’s love.”

“I’ll lose him,” Bill groaned.

“If he loves you, and I know he does, he’ll come back to you.”

“Okay, Waldo, I’ll try. I’ll really try.”

Bill remembered his conversation with Waldo when, a couple of weeks later, he came home and heard Nick on the phone making plans with someone to go to a movie Bill had not wanted to see. He went into the kitchen, poured himself a drink and came out into the living room just as Nick’s conversation was ending.

“Okay, great,” Nick said. “Pick me up here at seven, okay? Bye Jeff.” He hung up, hopped from the couch and hugged Bill. “Hi, how was your day?”