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Troy was in Vancouver. But Harris was not.
It wasn’t such a big deal, if it wasn’t because Troy’s father had called him to meet and catch up.
Even though Troy hated him and was doing perfectly fine without him, he had felt pity and agreed to meet with him. His mother always told him he didn’t have to do what he didn’t want, but he had always been eager to please people; even people who couldn’t accept him for who he was.
His therapist had told him in one of their first sessions, that he had to learn how to let things go. But he couldn’t. After all, he was his father, and even Troy would never admit it; he was seeking for his forgiveness and his approval.
So, here he was now; going to a cafeteria to meet him even though they hadn’t talked since Troy came out a year ago.
Troy was ashamed of his decision, so much that he hadn’t even told Harris when they had talked before. He had even lied to Rozanov when he had spotted him exiting the hotel, giving him a shitty excuse about meeting an old friend. Now that he thought about it, that sounded kind of like he was cheating on Harris... Maybe he should talk to Rozanov later and tell him the truth, especially if he didn’t want to be killed by him for hurting Harris’s feelings.
“Hi” Troy said, standing in front of his father, “Let’s go inside, son”. He was smiling. That same fake smile that Troy hated. He rolled his eyes and followed him inside.
“I just want a medium roast, please”, “Same”. They found a table and sat with their orders.
“Well, how are you?” Troy started, the sooner they began, the sooner this nightmare finished.
His father started to babble about his enterprise, his – Troy's age – wife and how wonderful his life was. Troy’s brain disconnected, he didn’t even care what he was talking about, so, why listen? Why was he even here?
He realized his father had stopped talking and was staring at him, waiting for an answer. “Sorry what?”, his father huffed a laugh through his nose, “I was saying, that Ottawa is doing well this season. Having Shane Hollander really helped the team. Unbelievable that that team reached the playoffs again.” He really meant it. Of course, his father thought his team sucked. He had made it clear when Troy had called Dallas Kent out for being a rapist. He had told him that his career was over in this team. Now they had demonstrated that everybody was wrong. Ottawa had a good team, with a good coach, and it was their second year making the playoffs, and, like Rozanov said daily, they really had a chance.
“Um... yeah. We’re playing well”. Curtis must had sensed he wasn’t obtaining anything from Troy, so he changed the subject.
“So... tell me, son, how’s your life?” Troy frowned; it was suspicious of his father to be interested in his personal life. He had never cared about it; all he cared about was hockey.
He hesitated, unable to know how much information was safe to share with him. But maybe he had changed, right? Maybe he was sorry for how he had treated Troy a year before (and all of his life, really), and they could make a fresh start. Yes, he must have changed, after all, he was his father and had wanted to see him.
“Um... I’m happy. Harris and I bought a house together, and we have a dog; Chiron” he smiled while scrolling through his phone to find a photo of Chiron, “Here” he showed Curtis the photo, who looked at it with disinterest, “And... I’m really thinking about proposing”, Troy’s smile grew even wider, “I really love him, dad. I think you could come home for dinner sometime... You would like him”.
God, had he shared too much?
When he looked up, his father’s face was crumpled, his gaze intense in Troy’s eyes.
Troy swallowed, concerned; he wasn’t able to decipher what that look meant; was it deception? But before he could say anything else, his father spoke.
“Well... There’s something I wanted to tell you. That’s the reason I wanted to see you today. I thought maybe you had...” he said, waving his hand in the air, searching for the right words to say, “made up your mind?”.
Troy was speechless, so Curtis took a deep breath and kept going.
“Listen, I want to help you, Troy. I really do. I have made research, and I have found someone who can help you with that... being gay thing. You’re sick, son, but there’s nothing to be ashamed of. There are people who can help you. I want to help you. That therapist... she’s the best specialist in Canada in this kind of mental disorders, and her therapies have the best results. I have a friend whose son went with her and now he is married to a girl and expecting their first baby.”
Troy was furious now, or was he hurt? Curtis didn’t seem to notice.
“You can have that, too; you can be normal again Troy. Please, let me help you.”
“Normal?”
He was feeling sick now.
“Em...” Troy stood up, fighting the urge to punch his own father in the face, “I’m... normal, dad. It’s just that I’m not what you want me to be. I am not sick, I am gay. Don’t you think it had been hard enough for me to accept it? That I wasn’t like the others? Do you really think I didn’t try hard to change that part of me, dad? I just... I just couldn’t... because there isn’t something you choose who you are attracted to... I thought after a year you could forgive me for being gay...” he took a deep breath, steading himself. He didn’t want to cry in front of his father, not now.
“It has been hard enough for all those years for me to finally accept myself, and you’re telling me to go to therapy to change that, because I’m sick? Don’t you think it would have been easier for me to just be straight, date girls, maybe marry to one of them sometime?” He was raising his voice now, anger boiling in his veins.
“Oh my God... I’m never going to be enough for you... You prefer to believe that I have some mental health problem rather than accept that I’m gay...” He looked at his father, whose face was indecipherable.
Troy shook his head, looking at the table. “You know what? I’m doing fine without you... Just... don’t call me again, ok?” He left, leaving his father on the chair, astonished.
He rushed outside; his eyes burnt with tears.
-----
In his room, Troy closed the door behind him, rested his body against the wall, and let it go. He slid through the wall, sat on the floor, with his head in his knees, and started sobbing.
There was a soft knock on the door, but he ignored it. “Barrett”. Fuck, it was Rozanov, “Are you okay? Let me come in”. He waited, “I know how to come in without the key” Troy knew he wasn’t joking, so he let him in.
Rozanov stepped in, facing Troy. “Who did this to you, you look awful”.
Troy knew that. His eyes were probably swollen and red rimmed from crying. He lowered his gaze and went to the edge of the bed, sitting down. Rozanov followed him silently.
Ilya raised an eyebrow, inviting Troy to speak, but all he could manage was a strangled noise before crying again. Ilya put his arm on his shoulder, comforting him.
He tried again when Troy calmed down; “What did you do?”. Of course, Rozanov thought Troy had done something wrong. He was an asshole, everybody knew that. A renovated one – thanks to Harris – but an asshole deep inside.
“If you did something bad to Harris, I would kill you, you know” Rozanov smiled. Of course, he knew this wasn’t about Harris.
Troy sighed; it was time to face it.
“I met my father”. He looked at Rozanov, who nodded understandably. “Uhm... I thought maybe he had changed. He asked me to go to a Café and catch up. I hadn’t seen him since... Pride Night last year.”
He sighed again. Sayig it out loud made him sound even more stupid. “It was going pretty well... I think... he even asked me about my life. I told him about the house and Chiron, and... I don’t know why, but I told him I am going to propose to Harris...”.
Rozanov squished his leg, encouraging him to continue.
“He told me he had done some kind of research and had found a good therapist that could make me normal again, because I’m sick, he told me that therapist could help me with my mental health... making me not gay.”
Troy buried his face in his hands. “Oh God, I feel stupid, I really thought he had finally accepted me”.
“You father is a piece of shit” said Rozanov, “You know you are normal, right? There is nothing wrong with you. Don’t tell me you agreed to go see that stupid therapist.”
“Oh my God of course not Roz!” he rubbed his face, “It’s just... why am I not enough for him? I just wanted him to be proud of me...” he was crying again, in front of Rozanov. He felt ridiculous.
“He does not deserve you. It is his problem. I know you would like to have a better father, but we cannot choose our family, Barrett.” Ilya knew what he was talking about. Troy knew his father had been strict and had put hockey before anything else too. How would he had reacted if he knew his son was married to a man?
“I know... I just... I feel ridiculous” he huffed, “I thought he had finally forgiven me”.
“Forgive you for being gay?” Troy nodded.
“I know I disappointed him, but....” Good, now he was sobbing in front of his Captain.
Rozanov didn’t let him finish. “Harris knew you were going to meet him? Maybe it helps, talking to him, I mean. And to your therapist. Yours, not the crazy one your father wants you to go”.
“They don’t know... Harris would have supported me, I think...” Rozanov shrugged. Maybe that was right. Harris would have supported Troy and would have comforted him after.
“I will have to talk about it in my next appointment, I know it, and I regret having agreed to meet him, I feel like I have made a hundred steps back in just one hour... I’m stupid” Even though he wasn’t a fan of sharing his own process, Troy knew he could trust Rozanov, after all, he had been – along with Harris – the one that had convinced him to go see a therapist to help him with his anxiety and panic attacks. He could tell he was doing a lot better than when he had arrived in Ottawa a year ago.
“I don’t want to burden you with my problems. You have done more than enough. Thank you. Really”.
“Anytime” said Ilya, standing up. He stopped at the door and faced Troy again “You are not like him. You are good and you have people who love you for who you are. His loss”.
He opened the door “Oh! And you are normal. Remember it. Also, if you need help punching your father in the face call me. I know bad people who owe me favors” he winked and left.
Troy smiled for the first time that day.
-----
Harris’s face filled the screen with his big and bright smile, “Buddy!!” but then he realized Troy’s eyes were still a little bit red and swollen.
“Hey what’s up...? Do I have to catch a plane? Maybe punch somebody?” He teased Troy, making him smile. Troy was sure Harris had never punched anybody.
“I miss you”.
“Me too Troy, but you haven’t been crying because you miss me, right?”.
Troy shook his head and looked away, closing his eyes, inhaling and exhaling slowly, just like his therapist had taught him to do when he was feeling anxious.
He couldn’t hold it and started crying again.
“Hey Troy....” Harris sounded concerned, which made him feel even worse. Harris was concerned because of him.
Harris gave him time, letting him cry all the time he needed, murmuring comforting things, just as he used to do at home the times Troy had broken down, but through a screen this time, which was frustrating, because he wanted to be in that hotel room with him, shushing him, caressing his hair and kissing him. Comforting him. Holding him up.
“I’m sorry” said Troy, recomposing himself and wiping his tears away with the sleeve of his t-shirt.
Harris smiled, “Ready?” Troy nodded.
“I’ve been with my dad”. Harris’s mouth fell open “Wow. I wasn’t expecting that”.
“Yeah, me neither” admitted Troy, whimpering.
“I still don’t know why I've done it” tears still streaming down his face “But he called and I thought he deserved a chance. It turns out he’s still an asshole” he chuckled.
Harris’s look was sympathetic “Yeah. But he’s still your father. I can understand why you wanted to meet with him. I guess it didn’t go well”
“He talked about his new wife and asked a few things about the team. He was surprised but proud at the same time that we had made it to the playoffs again. Typical chatter from him. And then he asked about my life... I told him about our house, Chiron... and how happy I am with you” Troy’s eyes found Harris’s on the screen.
“And after that he started talking about a therapist that had treated some of his friend’s son for being gay, and that she had cured him, and now he was normal and married to a girl and expecting a baby, and he wanted me to go to see that crazy therapist so I could be normal again, because he thinks that I’m gay because I have, like, a disease you can cure or something, and...”
“Troy” Harris interrupted, Troy stopped, “Troy that’s awful. I’m sorry you had to face him alone.... what did you do?”
“I told him I am normal”
“Yes, you are,” assured Harris.
“I told him that for many years I tried to change who I was... I was ashamed of being gay, it was really hard for me to accept it.”
Troy took a deep, steading breath. “I told him that the problem was that he couldn't accept me for who I am. Then I’ve told him to never call me again, and left”.
“Babe... I’m proud of you. I wish I was there because I would fuck you until you forget your father’s name.”
Troy laughed, really laughed. He loved Harris.
“You are the best thing that ever happened to me, Harris...” Harris smiled.
“I think I need to process that I will never be enough for my dad. He will never accept who I am, and that hurts. So much.”
Harris couldn't imagine how it would feel to have a father like Troy’s since his own family had always been supportive of him and had never judged him for being gay. He also knew Troy loved his family and had a good relationship with his father; he even helped him with some of the farm work some weekends when he wasn’t on the road. But of course, Harris’s father wasn’t Troy’s; obviously he wanted his own father to be proud of him. He felt pity for him.
“I’ve told Ilya. He saw me leaving the hotel and I think that he also saw me coming back. And yes, before you ask, I have already advanced the appointment with my therapist for Tuesday.”
“You’ve got everything under control” he laughed. “I’m proud of you, Troy. And I’m glad you chose me over your father.” Because yes, closing his father up and rejecting the idea of that stupid therapist was equal to choosing Harris over his father.
“I would always choose you, Harris. You are my family, and I wish you were here” Troy checked the hour “Fuck, I must leave you babe. I should take a shower to fix this face and go downstairs with the guys for dinner.”
“Sure, go get some fun” said Harris, then smiled at Troy and added “I love you”.
“I love you too” and he hung up.
He felt a little better after talking with Harris.
-----
The next day he stepped on the ice feeling sure about himself, played a good game, and even scored a goal, killed time on the plane by listening to music and went home with Harris, who was waiting for him in the parking lot, with a bouquet of flowers. He had only received flowers once before; the day he came out on Pride Night.
“For me?”
“Yes, for being so brave” Harris hugged him, and it felt like what it was, home.
Hopefully, in a few days, Harris will say yes to a lifetime with him.
For now, they went home together to rest. Tomorrow Troy will have a hard day. He had to work on all his feelings from those past days with his therapist.
While Harris finished in the bathroom, Troy opened his nightstand and took the little box that rested hidden under some socks. He opened it and admired the ring inside; “Soon” he said to himself, hiding the box in its place again just before Harris entered the room, laying on the bed and hugging him close, kissing his temple.
Troy looked up, finding Harris’s soft smile.
Troy narrowed his eyes. “What?” asked Harris.
“Weren’t you planning on fucking me until I forget my father’s name?” teased Troy.
Harris laughed, then added; “Well, if you insist...” before crashing his mouth against Troy’s in a desperate kiss.