Page 18 of At His Wife’s Behest

T he following morning, Kellan asked Emma to take Abigail to school. It had just been too damned hard seeing Connor again and not being able to touch him.

“But that’s your little morning thing. I get her in the evenings.” She gazed at him. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Bullshit. What is it?” Emma glared. “I know when you’re upset. Is it your father?”

“No.”

Emma cocked her head, her gaze insistent.

“My companion…”

“What about him? He’s not trying to blackmail you or something, is he? He signed an NDA.”

“No, no… he’s not trying to blackmail me. Nothing like that.” He knew he should keep his mouth shut, but he had to tell someone, or he’d explode. If not Emma, then who?

“Can you promise me to keep this to yourself?”

She narrowed her eyes, concern on her face. “Yeah?”

“The guy… it was Abigail’s teacher.”

Emma frowned. “What?” Her eyes got wider. “Mr. Q?”

“Yeah.”

Emma was silent a moment. “That’s why he was gone last week.” She snickered, shaking her head. “It was bound to happen, Italy or not. He’s had the hots for you all year.”

“He’s not had the hots for me.” Kellan’s face grew hot.

“The hell he hasn’t. I was there at every parent-teacher conference with you. He couldn’t take his eyes off you.” She chuckled. “You did not out him. I already figured he was gay… or bi.”

“You don’t have an issue that I spent a week with our daughter’s first-grade teacher?”

“Why would I?”

“If it gets out that he works on the side as a companion… he could lose his job.” Connor was an excellent teacher… and didn’t deserve being ousted. “Not all the parents in that school would approve of his extracurricular activities.”

“Teacher’s salaries are shit. I doubt private schools are all that much better. A man’s got to live.” She sighed. “Wait—do you have a problem with him having a side hustle? Is that the real reason you don’t want to see him again?”

“No… I don’t have a problem with it.” He stiffened, realizing he didn’t want Connor to continue as a companion. He’s mine. “I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t judge him.”

“I was raised by hypocrites who judged everyone on the face of the earth when they themselves were pulling all kinds of nonsense when not in public view.” She shrugged. “It’s his body. He’s an adult and can do whatever he wants with it. As long as it’s not hurting anyone, it’s none of my business.”

I’m hurting.

But that’s of my own doing.

“You want me to take Abby to school so you don’t have to face him. Is that it?”

Kellan nodded.

“I should say no. Make you look at that man and think about what you’re giving up…” She clicked her tongue. “I won’t do that. At least for now. You can have a few days’ break, but then after that, you need to face your demons head on.” Emma snorted. “Face your fine as hell demon.”

“You’re a lesbian, remember?”

Emma sashayed from the room. “I still know a pretty piece of meat when I see it.”

“He’s more than a piece of meat,” Kellan snapped.

Emma grinned. “Oh, Kellan Rhodes… you have it bad.”

His face warmed as she departed. As soon as she was gone, he was, ready to tell her he’d changed his mind. He wanted to see Connor, no matter how hard it might be, yet the thought of seeing the man and not being able to touch… to kiss? That broke him.

He needed time. Time to get ahold of himself and his emotions.

Time to decide what it is he wanted.

Time that he barely got.

A week later, Kellan’s cell rang. He lifted the screen and cringed when he saw the name. Clicking it, he lifted the phone to his ear. “Yeah, Dad?”

“I need you in my office ASAP.”

“I’m not helping with the campaign.”

“This is about your trip to Italy.”

Kellan’s blood went cold.

“I’m working from home today. ASAP, Kellan.”

The line went dead. Kellan froze, unable to move.

His stomach turned, and he was sure he’d retch, but when he finally ran to the bathroom, nothing came out.

After wiping the sweat beading on his brow, he departed for his parents’ house.

He barely remembered the drive over, the different scenarios whispering through his mind taking center stage.

His parent’s housekeeper let him in, and he strode toward his father’s office.

He lifted his hand to knock but chickened out.

“Come in, Kellan.”

After a cleansing breath, he entered. Approaching the desk, he noted his father’s look of disapproval was sharper that morning. “What about Italy?”

His father tossed a handful of papers across the desk.

Drawing one from the pile, he viewed an image of Connor and him holding hands down the market district in Bellagio.

Another had them kissing on the ferry to Como.

He fanned the pages out and stared at the dozens of others detailing their trip and all the public embracing that had happened.

His knees weakened, his stomach in knots… but then he noticed something.

When he looked at his face, he saw happiness.

He lifted one image of Connor starring at him while his head was turned. The look of adoration on the man’s face made it harder to breathe.

A look that whispered… love.

Love? We barely know one another.

His chest tightened and the truth slammed into him.

In the span of a week, he’d fallen in love with Connor.

If he was honest with himself, he’d fallen a long time before, over all those mornings bringing his daughter into Connor’s classroom.

Class visits. Parent-teacher conferences.

The Winter Play where Connor had acted like a complete fool for his kids, who loved him dearly.

The evenings where Abby would chatter about her day, telling him all the wonderful things Mr. Q had done. He was a kind, caring teacher.

He was a kind, caring man.

“Are you trying to ruin me, Kellan?”

Seeing that look on Connor’s face gave him strength. This is what I’m giving up… for what? “What I do in my own time has nothing to do with you.”

“It has everything to do with me,” his father roared. “Do you know what those left-wing radicals are going to do if they find out you’re a fag?” He snarled. “We need that man to sign an NDA.”

“He already has,” Kellan murmured.

“I’d congratulate you for having the good sense to do that if you hadn’t ruined it by galivanting around Italy kissing another man.” His father’s eyes closed briefly. “I don’t even want to imagine what you did behind closed doors.”

Kellan stared at the strewn photos, wishing he was back there with Connor. Away from the mess of reality. “How did you get these? Do you have someone following me?”

“Don’t be paranoid. I don’t have someone following you.”

“Then how?”

“My campaign isn’t not the only one investigating rivals. The candidates vying for my seat are doing their own opposition research, and you just handed them a potential victory.”

Kellan collapsed in the chair facing his father’s desk, both hands filled with printed pages. “Too bad you can’t simply stand on your record, but we both know you’re more interested in helping the special interests than the actual voters.”

His father scowled at him. “You know how things work in DC.”

“I wish I didn’t.” He couldn’t stop looking at the images. “Why did they send these to you and not the press?”

“Because the photographer is blackmailing me. Maybe whichever opponent he’s working for doesn’t have the kind of cash he’s anticipating. He’s demanding twenty million or he’s going to the media and selling these to the highest bidder.”

Kellan wanted to throw up.

“I’m not pulling twenty million out of my coffers for your indiscretions. You need to convince that rich wife of yours to ante up. This will embarrass her almost as much as it will me.”

Kellan couldn’t look away from the pleasure on his face in every shot. Connor had made him happy in a way no other human being ever had.

“No,” Kellan murmured, lifting his gaze to his father.

Norman’s eyes narrowed, the evil look he’d always give before punishing Kellan. “What do you mean, no?”

“Exactly how it sounds. No,” Kellan said. “Emma’s not paying a single dime nor will I.”

“I doubt you have that kind of money laying around.”

Kellan stared at the man who’d tormented, humiliated, and abused him most of his life.

Emma and Connor were right. He’d allowed his father to make him smaller.

Afraid. He’d been so convinced he was a worthless piece of shit that he’d allowed the bullying and the continued humiliation long after he could’ve walked away and started a new life for himself.

A life truly out from under his father’s thumb.

Don’t let your father define you.

He’d done just that. He’d been beaten down so much that he couldn’t see the way up.

Or out.

He glanced at his father behind the big desk, and the man appeared small. Old.

Weak.

“I’m not paying a dime, either.” He smiled. “Just so you’re aware, Emma and I are getting divorced. We’re done hiding who we really are.”

His father’s face screwed up in disgust.

“Let them print the pictures. I’m ready to let the world know who I am and live the life I should’ve been living a long time ago.”

“Do you have any idea the blowback I’m going to have when the country learns I have a faggot for a son? You are the most inconsiderate, worthless child in existence.”

Before Italy, his father’s words would’ve stung a hell of a lot more than they did. “I’d much rather be called a faggot than a racist, homophobic piece of trash.”

His father leaned forward. “You don’t talk to me that way, boy!”

“Oh? Who’s going to stop me?”

For the first time in his life, Kellan saw fear in his father’s eyes. He rose, collecting the photos. “What do you think this will do to Abigail? She’s young, but you can’t shield her from the media circus that’s coming if you don’t pay up.”

“Don’t threaten my child.”

“It’s no threat. You grew up in the public eye. You know how hard it can be. You’re making it harder on her just to get your jollies with a man.”

“It’ll pass… and my daughter will see me living my truth, for once.”

“You disgust me.”