“You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.”—Jane Austen, Pride and Prejudice

The pet store seemed more crowded than usual for a Thursday evening. Then again, everywhere in Long Beach was somewhat congested in summertime. School was out and tourist season was in full swing. It made sense that parking spaces were harder to come by near the beach in June, but I certainly didn’t think we’d be brushing elbows with the masses to get to the cat corner.

We passed a gaggle of kids jumping excitedly in front of the lizard and snake displays and another group pointing at the exotic fish aquarium before stopping to check out a few toys along the way.

“Buttons needs this,” I said, holding up a hot dog in a bun squeeze-toy.

Rory rolled his eyes. “That’s for dogs, not cats. The queen wouldn’t be impressed.”

“Then I think we should get a dog. A small, hypoallergenic one. No shedding, no fuss, no mess. What do you say?”

“We aren’t home enough. You’ve got to walk a dog, play with a dog, and be around in general. Cats are easy. They just want to be left alone. The more you play with Buttons, the more she thinks you’re a psycho to be avoided at all costs. See? Much easier.”

“Ha. Maybe I’m the needy one. You have to admit that it would be nice to have a little canine friend around, though. We have a yard now. We can do it!”

Rory and I moved into a cute two-bedroom bungalow a couple of blocks from the ocean. It was just two miles from Rory’s old apartment, but it was a million times nicer. The bathroom and kitchen needed updating, but it had cool original features like hardwood flooring and arched doorways. Best of all, it had a yard that was big enough to host friends and certainly enough room for a puppy to romp around.

But Rory was right. Our schedules were erratic. Between classes and training clients at the YMCA and substitute teaching, he was busier than ever. And in the fall, he’d be back in school himself, working toward his master’s degree. He’d been accepted into an elite program at UCLA, and while he wasn’t thrilled to take on student-loan debt, he knew the degree was necessary if he wanted to become a mathematics professor. The idea alone of my hunky man pointing out complicated equations on a chalkboard with his sleeves rolled up, exposing his tattoos and accentuating his muscles, made me swoon. None of my college professors had ever looked like him. I might have been more interested if I’d had eye-candy incentive. Now I was just happy I never had to take another math class again.

Thankfully, I passed both semesters of statistics, so I could concentrate on my minor when I returned for my fifth and final year at Chilton. I signed up for two summer classes that began the end of June, but I had a little more free time than normal. Of course, that wouldn’t be the case in August when football season was in full swing again.

The board issued a private apology to me and publicly offered me a scholarship for my final year. And yes, I was starting quarterback. The difference this time was that I had an idea of what I wanted to do with my life. Or at least I had a path and some general direction. It could take years, but I might just make it to the NFL one day after all. To be play caller for an elite organization would truly be part of a dream come true.

I already had the other part of that dream. I was out. Fully and completely and very proudly out of the closet. And the crazy thing was that others wanted to hear my story. I’d been interviewed and asked to speak for various LGBTQ organizations to give my perspective on being a gay athlete. For someone who’d been buried in a dark closet for years, it was life-changing. I couldn’t imagine talking freely about my boyfriend or our life together even nine months ago. Now, I couldn’t shut up.

Sure, it bothered me sometimes that my parents distanced themselves from me. My sister tried to be supportive, and my mom checked in with an occasional phone call or text, but my father had gone radio silent. For the first time ever, I spent the holidays elsewhere. I thought I would have been more shaken, but honestly, I expected it. I was never going to be what my dad wanted. He hoped for a version of himself, and a gay son wasn’t it. But that was his problem, not mine. I had friendship, joy, and more love in my life than I’d ever imagined. I wouldn’t give up a moment of it just to make him more comfortable. That wasn’t love. I knew the difference now.

“Like I said, Buttons wouldn’t approve. C’mon, let’s check out the cat crap,” Rory said, slipping his hand in mine.

I chuckled at his playful gruff intonation and let him lead the way to a ginormous array of cat scratching posts. I bypassed the humble traditional posts and marched straight for the one that looked like a cross between a jungle gym and a mini palace. It was a series of boxes with steps and tethered balls and a private box, ideal for ignoring humans.

“This one,” I declared decisively. “It’s perfect.”

“It’s huge,” he deadpanned, pointing at a small version, with fewer balls and stairs. “What about that one?”

“Hmm. Kinda boring. This is a castle, that’s a…condo.”

“Cats dig condos. And if you think about it, she likes small spaces. Too much room might intimidate her,” he reasoned patiently.

“Maybe you’re right. Besides, we’ll need a place for the dog bed later,” I singsonged.

“Drip, drip, drip…”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re torturing me till you get your way. I’m on to you. You think if you say dog once a day between now and Thanksgiving, you’ll get a puppy for Christmas.”

I furrowed my brow in annoyance. “Will it work?”

“Probably,” Rory admitted. “I love you, baby. I’d give you anything you wanted if I could. A dog, a cat, a cow, a winning lottery ticket, a private tropical island…you name it and I promise I’ll do whatever it takes to make it happen. The cow might be tricky. Not sure where we’d put it. And the lottery ticket might be a two-dollar scratcher but—”

I set my hand over his mouth and removed it quickly to seal my lips over his. I could have sworn I saw stars when I finally pulled away. “All I want is you.”

“No cow?”

I shook my head and grinned so wide my face hurt. “No. Just you. I love you too. Let’s get the small one.”

“That’s the spirit.” Rory nipped my chin playfully, then whispered in my ear. “I’ll give you something big when we get home, QB.”

I snickered at his juvenile comeback and kissed his cheek. “I can’t wait.”

And why wait anyway? Patience might be a virtue, but I’d learned it was equally important to know when to act, to seize opportunity and use my voice. I’d come out on the offense…and with this man by my side, I was truly free.