I knock again.

“Ty, please open up,” I say as I stand outside his condo, knocking on his door.

He can’t be that much better than he was last night when he stormed off. But I’m hoping that having a night to think on it might have given him a chance to reflect and calm down.

This might be a failed attempt at trying to talk to him, but I’ve got to give it a shot. He needs to know I’m here and care. And that I’m so fucking sorry. Not sorry that I love Jesse, but that it happened the way it did…and sorry for what that will do to his and Jesse’s relationship.

“Ty, please…”

I’ve knocked so many fucking times that I’m surprised no one’s come out to ask me to stop.

I struggle to breathe, this knot in my chest twisting as my anxiety intensifies.

I need him to hear me out. None of us were really listening last night. It was all about emotions and hurt and pain. I need an actual conversation with my son. He deserves that.

As I realize how futile my knocks are, I lean against his door. Tears well in my eyes as I reflect on what a fucking bastard life is.

I knew it wasn’t going to end well when we told him, that there was the possibility I might lose him, but it seems so unfair because really, we never found a way to make it work.

He hates me. He’s always hated me.

“Ty…” My voice strains and I cough, trying to keep it together. I can’t lose it right now. So I pour out my heart…because I’m desperate here. “We got off to a great start, didn’t we? Both of us filled with hope and believing we could find a way to figure out this fucked-up situation. I never wanted a kid, but I promise you, the moment your mom told me about you, I cried like a fucking baby because…I guess there was some part of me that really did want that and thought maybe I could be good at it.

“I’m sure you aren’t thinking that could be true now, and I get that. But when I met you, I thought I could come in and be awesome at this dad thing, but it was tough. I started staying in Atlanta to spend more time with you, and going to your football games at school, thinking…naively…that I could slide on in and make it happen. But every time we were around each other, I guess I felt like a fraud…and I could feel this wall between us. I don’t know if it was in my head or real…a little bit of both, probably. Before I knew it, you went off to college, and as much as I tried to do stuff with you, I didn’t. I guess you got busy…and I got busy. It felt as though my chance was all over. I fucking hated it, but I have tried, Ty. I might have fucked up so big with this, but I do love you. And I’m so fucking sorry for making this shit situation even shittier.”

Silence.

Painful, cruel silence.

It’s what I fucking deserve, I know it.

I’m crying like I did when he walked out…when I revealed my secret to Jesse. Crying like a fucking baby. I never cry, but these days, I can’t seem to stop myself.

I take a moment to catch a breath.

Get it together. He doesn’t need to hear you do this.

I struggle to pull myself together once again. It takes me a good minute before I step away from the door, looking at it, having lost hope.

Maybe I’ll have to come back.

“Ty, if you don’t answer today, I’ll be here tomorrow…and the next day, and the next, until you listen to me.”

I bang on the door some more. “Ty, I know you’re in there. I saw your car in the parking lot.”

“I…uh…”

I turn quickly and see Ty rounding the corner at the end of the hall, his eyes wide with surprise as he comes to an abrupt stop. With two plastic bags of groceries and a gallon of milk in his hands, he glances around uneasily.

“Oh…your car,” I say. “I assumed…”

“I Ubered.”

I…am…such…an idiot.

I back away from the door and face him. “Got it…”

Even though we’re both quiet, all I can do is appreciate how nice it is to see him again, especially since in that moment when he walked out, I was filled with such despair and pain. Such hopelessness.

He doesn’t look mad so much as shocked. Unlike after Jesse and I confronted him about what we’ve been doing. Then he was mad and shocked.

He approaches slowly, cautiously. In a white tank and a pair of sweatpants, his dirty-blond hair pushes out from under the beanie he wears. While that hair might be from Tricia’s genes, those blue eyes and his jawline are unmistakably from mine. Even his facial hair grows about as fast as mine, as indicated by the clear five-o’clock shadow he’s got despite appearing pretty clean-shaven last night.

“Do you mind if I talk to you?” I ask.

He tenses, looking less surprised, more annoyed. He doesn’t reply as he approaches and opens his door.

Funny how such a simple thing can take so long. He forces it open and pushes inside, shoving the door back the way I’m sure he wants to shove me away from him.

He leaves the door ajar, as though he’s allowing me to choose to come in, but not really inviting me. I follow him inside, walking through an entryway into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and puts the milk inside before setting the other two bags on the counter beside the sink.

He doesn’t look at me, just stops at the counter.

It reminds me of when he was younger and wouldn’t make eye contact with me—when there was that strange distance because we had this biological bond but we’d yet to develop a stronger connection than that.

“You changed some of the art,” I note as I glance around his place. I notice a piece of artwork above his sofa in the living area. It’s black and white, in three panels. It takes me a moment to realize that it’s of an octopus.

“Eric, now’s not the time to discuss my decor.”

I stand on the other side of the kitchen peninsula, which seems like a representation of the barrier that’s always been between us, that we’ve never quite been able to break through.

“I didn’t do this to hurt you,” I say, keeping in mind Jesse’s text to me earlier when he knew I was heading over to talk to Ty: Be open with him. That’s something I’ve never been all that good at.

“Well, you fucking did,” he spits out, seething with that same hatred I could feel emanating from him last night. Although, he’s not showing it with a tantrum like the one he threw in my condo. It’s in his silence, which like so many of his features, is a lot of the me in him.

“I’m not saying I didn’t fuck up…or that Jesse didn’t fuck up. I should have kept my distance, but the more time I spent with him, the more I realized that I really did share a connection with him. At first, I didn’t feel there was any point in telling you. I figured it could be this thing that lasted for a minute and then I moved on, but it wasn’t that easy. I’m not asking you to understand, or forgive me, but I’m… I’m here because I love you, Ty.”

“You have a fucked-up way of showing it.”

I deserve that. I know it, but it doesn’t keep it from hurting.

“I knew you had the hots for him,” Ty says. “That was clear when I introduced you guys, but with Jesse…that totally threw me. He’s never mentioned anything about having feelings for guys before, and I knew him as being with Whitney for five years, so it felt like it came out of nowhere. And then obviously I wasn’t exactly excited to find out that you both have been keeping this from me.”

I can tell that’s a severe understatement.

His jaw is tense as he stands there. The fluorescent lights of his kitchen accentuate the bags under his eyes.

We stare at each other some more. “Seems I’m always shit at finding the right words,” I admit.

“Yeah, you could win an award for that.”

I chuckle, and he smirks, though quickly forces it into a frown, it seems. Although perhaps it requires less effort than I’m hoping.

“It was a lot to walk into a room with you and my best friend, not knowing what’s going on, and then to hear that. It made me feel like the dumbass you guys were keeping it from.”

“I can understand, but we didn’t mean it that way.”

“I’m not sure you can understand. I’m not really sure a lot of people can understand that situation.”

“Fair enough.”

He rests his palms on the counter and pushes his tongue against his cheek as he takes a deep breath, as if he’s trying to find his bearings. “It was really fucking selfish of you to do this with my best friend. To fuck around with him.”

“I can fess up to that.”

He nods subtly, like he’s acknowledging hearing the words I’m speaking. “I’ve been doing a lot of sleepless thinking since last night. Thanks for that, by the way. Not like I have a life I need to keep on top of or anything.” There’s hate and vengeance in his sarcasm, as though he wishes his words could stab through my heart.

He takes a deep breath before saying, “You want a beer?”

While I’m surprised by the question, I confess, “I could use one right about now.”

“You and me both.”

He heads back to the fridge and gets two cans out, passing one to me before heading through the kitchen entryway, into the living room.

“Eric, we can be just as awkward sitting on the couch,” he tells me. He leads me to the couch, and we sit on opposite sides. He opens his beer and takes a swig, but then as he’s about to pull it down, drinks a bit more, as though he remembered the awkward-as-fuck situation we’re in and knows he could use the help.

He stares forward, not at me, like he still can’t bring himself to look at me.

I open mine, but I hesitate to take a sip.

“Can you imagine the fucked-up reality show we could have about this?” Ty asks.

I chuckle. I get why he and Jesse get along. They have similar senses of humor, and in a lot of ways, it’s clear they both use it to diffuse tension.

He stares at his can for a minute before he says, “I can’t convey to you how mad I am at you guys, for very different reasons. You, because you had to have known that might fuck with my relationship with my best friend. That it would take that away from me.”

“Ty, I could never have imagined this would happen.”

“I don’t care about your lack of imagination, Eric. It doesn’t change that you… But I do get what you’re saying. It’s something I thought a lot about after I…freaked out…last night. Even though I’m pissed, I know you guys wouldn’t have had a reason to tell me that unless what you were doing was fairly serious. And Jesse…” His chin and cheeks quiver as he hesitates, as though he’s struggling with what he wants to say next. “Jesse…he’s a good guy. He has been that way ever since I’ve known him. First to be there when a friend needs help. Best listener in the goddamn world. Hell, the guy fundraises for fucking orphans. He’s practically a saint.”

“Fundraises for orphans?” I ask. I guess I shouldn’t be surprised by it, though.

“Yeah, you didn’t know that?”

I shake my head.

“I guess I don’t see why he would have mentioned it to you. It’s for kids in foster care. You’ll have to ask him about it. He’s kind of an amazing guy, as I guess you’ve noticed.” He seems frustrated by that statement more than appreciative of Jesse’s nature. “I say that, but I think that’s part of what made it hurt even more. What happened seems so out of character for Jesse…and so selfish of him. But it’s also what’s making me keep running it all through my head, trying to sort everything out, make sense of what the hell is going on. Jesse’s been my friend…the person I trusted…and in some ways, it feels like you took that from me. And I need some time to sort through all that. With both of you.”

“I can respect that.”

He glances around his condo some more. “I’m not sure what the right question about all this is, but…what, um…do you like about Jesse?”

I don’t know how to respond at first. Really, his question surprises me more than anything. It’s almost as surprising as him not wanting to scream and shout and kick me the fuck out of his building after everything that went down.

He finally makes eye contact with me, apparently wanting an answer, and I feel I owe it to him. I owe him whatever he asks for at this point. “He’s smart and funny. He’s worked hard to get where he is in life. And overcome a lot of shit in his past. He’s…”

“Yeah, he’s pretty cool,” he interrupts quickly, almost as if he doesn’t want to press further.

We take a few more sips from our beers, almost it seems just for something to do, something to give Ty a moment to process all this shit.

“There’s a part of me that feels like I know how this is supposed to play out,” Ty says. “I’m the psycho bastard son who throws a fit and asks you never to see Jesse again. That I kick you out and tell you I never want to see you again. Or that this was all too much.”

I’m waiting—hoping—for a but.

“But…”

There it is.

“…I think we both know—hell, we all know—life’s complicated as fuck. I’m not saying I’m okay, or that I forgive either of you, but I appreciate that you came here tonight to talk to me. And…as weird as this sounds…last night meant a lot to me. I didn’t catch you, and you probably could have gotten away with keeping it from me if you’d tried, but you didn’t. That took balls.”

I’m relieved to hear him acknowledge that since the way he acted last night, it was clear he felt we’d ambushed him, which in a way, we had.

“I’m not thrilled,” Ty adds. “I’m not okay with either of you yet.”

He stops, but his yet gives me all the hope I needed. That there’s a fucking chance we can all get through this somehow.

“I need to talk to Jesse too,” he adds. “But, well, I guess I don’t know where we go after that.” He nods before taking another drink. “Alcohol will help.”

“Whatever we need to do—”

“Can we talk about something else now?” he asks, desperation in his expression. “I can’t handle all this in one night. You seen any good movies?”

The tension has eased up a bit, though not entirely. That would be way too much to ask, but the fact that he’s even speaking to me means the world to me.

The conversation shifts to movies, but there’s an awkwardness to it. It’s not a lighthearted discussion so much as Ty’s attempt at moving away from the other conversation. When that familiar silence returns, Ty says, “Well, this is gonna be real fucked up, isn’t it?”

“Seems like it.”

“But we didn’t start off a normal family, so why should we become one now? Do I get to tell Mom?” he asks with a wink.

I laugh. “Oh God.”

“She’s gonna give you such shit.” He rolls his eyes. “The age, my friend… Ooh, I think you should plan to leave town for a while after.”

“Right?” I dread the thought.

He rests his hands on his thighs and leans forward, retrieving his can from the coffee table and taking a sip. When he’s finished, he says, “Okay, I gotta get some work in for the night.”

“Thank you for listening to me,” I tell him.

We rise from the couch, and he leads me to the door.

As I open it, he says, “Eric.”

I turn around to him. He looks like he’s about to say something, but he closes his mouth and shakes his head. “Just don’t be a dick to him, all right?”

His words mean so much to me because they aren’t the thoughtless, cruel words he was offering in the heat of the moment last night. They’re the words of someone who understands what Jesse and I are experiencing.

As he avoids my gaze, I see a kid, much like myself, or what I imagine Jesse was like when he was younger. I see a kid who wants to know his dad, who’s hurt and feels so rejected. I’ve always thought he was pushing me away, and maybe he always has been, but I see something else now too—his desire to get to know me. That it’s still there, even after this bullshit I’ve pulled. That tears me apart inside.

“Ty, I know I’m a shit dad.”

He raises his hand. “This is a conversation that’s too much for me right now,” he admits, and I respect that. “I say we call tonight a truce and proceed with caution from here.”

“I’ll take it.”

He lowers his hand before adding, “I’m going to be gone for a few days for work, heading back to Chicago. But I’ll give you guys a call when I get back in town.”

“I’d like that.”

“I want to talk to Jesse. I need to talk to him, but I seriously wouldn’t mind getting this out of my fucking head for a bit. God, that’s going to be an awkward conversation.”

“I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t apologize when you’re not sorry for being with him.” He sounds angry and hurt and resigned all at once, but I get that he’s torn and conflicted about all this, so I accept that it is what it is.

This next part is hard for me, but I know it needs to be said, that he needs to know because I realized how much I could have missed out on the opportunity to say it when he walked out last night. “I love you.”

His eyes stir with moisture before he turns away from me and says, “Okay, that’s good. I’ll call you when I get back.”

He heads inside his unit and closes the door behind him.

Rejection, but very much deserved. This was so much for him to process that I can’t blame him for his reaction. He was so amazing about the whole thing, considering how he blew up at us last night.

I’m sad it’s all come to this, but relieved because I feel like I’ve reached my son on a deeper level than I’ve been able to in all the years since I’ve known him. It gives me some speck of hope about what this means, not only for me and Jesse, but for me and Ty.