Page 85 of Catch Me (Becoming Us #4)

Travis

I wasn’t supposed to be here. It was probably unhealthy, and if Roman knew, he’d be angry. I wasn’t good at letting sleeping dogs lie, though, and I’d recently learned that doing nothing might just prolong the inevitable.

It was unlikely to do any good, yet it was necessary. Something told me that if I didn’t try, I’d regret it until the day I died. For Roman, I was willing to do anything.

I knocked on the door, then pushed my hands into my pockets.

Although I may have been an extroverted person, I felt nervous.

Standing here, waiting for him to answer, I was thrust back to those years in my dad’s house when it had been silent aside from his pleas for me to talk to him.

Dinners were quiet and awkward, and every time he opened his mouth, I thought he was going to tell me that he’d changed his mind, that he was sending me back.

We’d healed, but I’d never forget how it felt to think my own dad hated the sight of me.

I’d always remember not just telling him I hated him, but feeling it.

When I looked at him now, all I felt was love and acceptance.

That was how I knew it didn’t have to be like this f or Roman.

There was hope , just like I told my followers.

If I didn’t believe that, I wouldn’t say it to millions of people online.

The door opened, and Mr. Valdez immediately narrowed his eyes. “How do you know where I’m staying?”

Without invitation, I stepped into the hotel room, angling past him.

He tried to say something about it, but he must’ve seen that it was pointless.

When I turned around, he had his arms crossed over his chest. The angry expression on his face looked a lot like Roman’s, and though I didn’t need it confirmed, it was clear that it’d come from him.

“We need to talk.”

“I asked you a question,” he said.

“Ross loves your son, so when I asked, he told me where you were. Did you really think Rachel would come talk to you?”

“At one time, she would’ve seen reason. A long time ago, maybe.” With the words, he seemed to deflate a little. In a matter of seconds, he shifted from the man Roman had feared to one who was small, burdened by something he was too proud to admit.

“You love your son too. I can see that, so what good does it do to cut him out of your life?”

“I haven’t cut him out. He’s choosing this.”

I shook my head, digging my nails into my palms. “Look, Mr. Valdez—”

“Just call me Oscar.” He dropped into a chair and leaned his elbows on his knees, but he didn’t look at me.

“Oscar, my dad tried to change me too. I don’t know if you’re aware of my story, but he sent me to conversion camp when I was fifteen.”

“I assume you flunked out.”

I snorted a laugh, which made him look up at me.

Leaning against the wall, I shook my head a little.

“You can say what you want. It won’t hurt me.

But it hurts him. And I’m sure you know that, but you’re convincing yourself that you’re in the right.

You think you’re being righteous, carrying out God’s will and trying to save his soul. It’s bullshit, and you know it.”

“You know nothing about my faith.”

“I know everything about it.” I pushed away from the wall, and he sat straighter, watching me as if I was going to attack him.

“I know every verse you’ve cherry-picked from your Bible.

I know the lines you us e to make it seem like you do all this out of love.

I know that you think you’re hating the sin, not the sinner, but that’s bullshit .

People can learn and do better for their children. My dad did. Ross did.”

His shoulders slumped again. “These are my beliefs, and Ross gave in to sin.”

Counting backward in my head, I tried to put myself in his shoes.

It was the worst place to be, but I could preach at him all day long and it wouldn’t change anything.

At a certain point, we’d each just be screaming into the void, and that sort of thing was what turned you just as hateful as the people on the other side.

It was the part of advocacy that was sometimes the hardest—holding onto the good inside of myself, even when facing a hatred that wore down my soul.

“I love Roman,” I said. His gaze snapped to mine, holding a mixture of emotions I didn’t quite care to decipher.

With a nod, I started to smile a little.

“Maybe you don’t really know him the way you think you do.

He’s a deeply enigmatic person, and I’ll be the first to say it takes a hell of a lot of patience to crack him.

If you took the time, if you put being his father over everything else, you’d see there’s a way through this. ”

He shook his head, but I didn’t let it take away my hope. Whether he took that step or not, it would be entirely on him. Not me, not Roman, and not even his religion. The only thing locking him into this cycle of hatred was himself.

“I love Roman,” I repeated, and in my own voice I heard the truth of it.

“He says you wouldn’t do what my dad did, and maybe that’s true, but I feel the need to make it clear that he’s not changing.

He won’t go to Idaho unless you accept who he is and we can be sure that you won’t try to manipulate him. ”

“Isn’t that his choice?”

I shrugged. “Sure, but here’s the thing, Oscar.

As his father, you failed to protect him the way you were meant to.

You didn’t make him feel safe, and when it mattered, you abandoned him and moved away.

He doesn’t trust you, and neither do I. Now, it’s my job to protect him.

Unlike you, I’m going to take that as seriously as I do everything else in my life.

” After taking a long breath, I moved closer to the door.

“I didn’t come here to change your mind but to leave you with this: Roman loves you, and he’s always going to want y our acceptance, but he’s not doing things your way anymore.

I truly hope you can confront the hate in your heart so he doesn’t have to lose his father, but I’ve seen with my own eyes how sometimes, it’s better to lose someone in favor of finding yourself. ”

The look in his eyes was guarded, and I had no idea if my words had landed, but I’d made my peace with this. Pulling a card from my pocket, I set it on the entry table.

“If you ever want to talk about it, here’s my number. My dad had me write his down as well, and Ross told me to let you know that he’s always willing to talk if you ever reach that point.”

I looked at him for another brief moment before I opened the door and took a step outside. He didn’t say anything, so I left him there.

Maybe it hadn’t done any good, but it was on him now. The rest of us could live in peace knowing that we’d done what we could, even when it would’ve been easier to tell him to shove his bigotry up his ass.

*****

Climbing into Roman’s bed, I wrapped an arm around him and tucked my face into his neck. He groaned a little but snuggled closer to me. I couldn’t keep myself from smiling at the way he’d become so comfortable.

I settled my lips at his ear. “I love you, Roman.”

“I’m gonna start hating you if you don’t let me sleep.”

“It’s nine. I’ve been up for hours, and I’m tired of waiting.”

He grunted and buried his face in the pillow. Not willing to accept that, I jabbed my fingers into his ribs, making him kick me.

“If you tickle me, I’ll burn this place down,” he warned.

I laughed against his neck and did it again. He swore, twisting away from me. When he finally sat up, I ran my hand down his thigh, then squeezed it.

“I have to tell you something,” I said.

“Better get it out cause they might be your last words.”

“I talked to your dad.”

His eyes widened, and when it was clear he was about to get up, I flipped over to straddle his lap. The defensiveness in his expression told me to be cautious, but I didn’t give a shit about that. I brushed his hair away from his forehead before I pressed my lips to it .

“Why’d you do that?” His voice was so small it made my chest constrict.

“Because I couldn’t stand to let things end the way they had. Not that it did much good, but I planted a seed, and it’s up to him if he lets it grow. Are you mad?”

He was quiet for a minute, and I let him work through it. My fingers continued to glide through his hair while I waited.

“I don’t know how to feel,” he admitted. “I’m not used to anyone fighting for me.”

“You should get used to it.”

Jumping to my feet, I went into the kitchen. I could feel Roman’s eyes on me, which might’ve been what made me take extra long to find a frying pan in the lower cabinet. When I straightened, I twirled it around and turned back to him.

“Get up. We’re making breakfast.”

“I don’t want to.”

“Too bad. Tessa doesn’t like to sleep in.”

He looked at her where she was lying on his feet. “She hasn’t complained.”

I couldn’t help but narrow my eyes at her. Not once had she allowed me to sleep this late.

“Wanna wrestle?” I asked. Tessa’s head popped up, and Roman’s eyes widened. A moment later, she stood and whirled on him. He swore when she started batting him with her paw, but then he laughed. It brought a smile to my face as I grabbed the eggs from the fridge.

As I put the pan on the stove, Roman’s arms came around me from behind. “I don’t want you to coddle me.”

“This is me not coddling you.”

“I know.” He kissed my shoulder, making my heart speed up like it was the first time. “Can I take you out?”

I turned around and cocked my head. “Why?”

“We’ve spent so much time on me, but I want to celebrate you.”

My nose wrinkled. “Too many people have celebrated me lately. They won’t really shut up about it.”

“Well, it doesn’t have to be about baseball, dumbass. We can go to lunch, maybe hit up the art museum. I’ll challenge you to a game of mini golf. And if anyone tries to get a picture with you, we’ll start running. ”

Standing straighter, I nodded toward the wall where there was a large canvas. “Don’t you have to work on that?”

“Not today.”

“Alright, I’m making extra eggs then. We might be doing a lot of running, and once that club is in my hand, I’m not going easy on you.”

“Bring it on.”

I grinned as I turned around to start the food. I hadn’t been this excited since I threw that final pitch. There was no way I’d let him beat me at mini golf. No freaking way.