Valor on the Move (18 page)

“Shouldn’t you cut that mop for aerodynamics?” Camila asked.

Matty shrugged. “It’s under a cap in the pool.” At least he’d changed his usual flip-flops and shorts for slacks and a buttoned shirt.

Chris watched Rafa with a furrow between his brows, and their mother turned to peer at Rafa closely.

“How are you feeling, dear? You didn’t look well last night.” She licked her finger and patted down a stray lock of his slicked hair.

“I’m good.” He forced a smile. “You look beautiful.” And she did, wearing a subtly patterned purple dress that flowed around her knees.

“Thank you, my darling. They’ve requested an Oval Office shot. Let’s walk over.”

They trooped down the stairs, picking up a tail of agents when they reached the first floor and headed to the West Wing. Rafa only let himself glance back at Shane once, keeping his gaze on his feet the rest of the time. Shane hadn’t been looking at him, which shouldn’t have hurt, but it did.

I’m such a freaking mess.

He’d wanted to call Ashleigh after the birthday party torture had finally finished, but it had been the middle of the night in Paris. By morning he’d curled up in bed with the curtains drawn, and even talking to Ash had seemed like too much of a mountain to climb.

Ramon sat behind his desk in the Oval Office, talking to a few of his aides. The middle-aged PR staffer sitting on one of the couches stood as they filed in. Their security details waited in the hall. There were three agents already stationed inside the office, standing silently around the room.

The PR woman smiled brightly. “Good afternoon! The
People
reporter and photographer are just coming through security. Are we all ready? Do you have any questions about the talking points?”

“Do you know I’m gay too?” Rafa asked. “Is that why you get the reporters to ask so many questions about my girlfriend? To try and convince anyone who suspects that we’re the perfect little hetero couple? Because apparently I haven’t been fooling people as much as I thought.”

He hadn’t planned on saying anything at all, let alone
that
, but somehow the words were suddenly out, and the PR woman’s eyes widened as the air was sucked from the room in a
whoosh.
In the silence, Rafa could feel everyone’s gaze swivel to him. He didn’t breathe, and it didn’t seem like anyone else did either.

As he stood, Rafa’s father barked to his aides, “Out.” As they scurried away, he ordered, “Cancel the interview” to the PR staffer. The woman rushed out, and the three agents glanced at each other. Ramon flushed red. “You too.
Out
.” They obeyed silently, the detail leader closing the door behind him.

“Rafael, what is the meaning of this?” His mother stared at him, and it was the first time he could remember her appearing truly flummoxed. The rest of the family watched with wide eyes.

“Don’t pretend you’re surprised.” Rafa’s voice was amazingly steady considering his heart was close to pounding right out of his chest. “If Dad suspected, there’s no way you didn’t.”

His parents shared a glance, and Camila sighed. “This isn’t the time for this discussion, and it certainly isn’t the place.”

Ramon shook his head. “Certainly not, Rafael. Son, I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but—”

“You knew all these years, didn’t you?
Years
. Do you know how hard it’s been, trying to hide who I really am? How hard I’ve worked at it? I was so scared to tell you. So scared to mess things up for you. Terrified you wouldn’t accept it. Wouldn’t accept me. But you already knew, and you never said a word. You never…dropped any hints that would let me know you’d be okay with it. Because you’re not.”

His parents had another silent conversation. Then Camila motioned to the couches. “Why don’t we all sit down and talk about this reasonably.”

“No! Why didn’t you say anything? Why did you let me pretend? Even if I wasn’t out to the world, I could have stopped hiding with you guys.”

His mother shook her head. “Darling, I thought… It didn’t seem necessary.”

“Wait…what?” Matthew’s mouth gaped. “You’re seriously gay? I thought you, like, grew out of it or whatever.”

“Oh my God.” Adriana glared at their brother. “Is your head really that far up your ass?”

“Everyone lower your voices,” their father commanded. “Now. And watch your language, young lady.”

Adriana replied, “For fuck’s sake, Dad.” She turned to Rafa. “Raf, why didn’t you tell me? You know I’d accept you. Don’t you know that? I have a million gay friends. It’s not an issue even a little bit.” She blinked rapidly, tears forming in her eyes. “Didn’t you know you could trust me?”

“You’re never here,” Rafa whispered. “We hardly ever talk. You all left a long time ago.”

“I thought you’d tell us when you were ready. I wanted to ask, but my friend Billy told me not to push. I always push and fuck things up. I didn’t want to do that with you.” She swiped a tear from her cheek. “But I guess I fucked it up anyway.”

Rafa wanted to tell her that it was okay and not to cry. “I should have told you. You’re right.”

Chris cleared his throat. “I think we all made mistakes. Why don’t we just—”

“But what about Ashleigh?” Matty asked, frowning. “Jesus, I really am clueless. I’m so sorry. Raf, I thought you guys were tight.”

“Of course they are,” Camila said. “Rafa…” She paused, the silence stretching out. “Your father and I suspected you had certain…inclinations. But you and Ashleigh have a wonderful relationship. A very successful relationship. Since you never spoke to us of being unhappy, we assumed we were all on the same page.”

“The same page,” Rafa echoed dully. It was surreal to actually be having the conversation, and it was almost like he was hovering outside his body watching.

His father walked around the wide desk. “Rafa, there are many people who maintain a respectable marriage while keeping the other part of their life…private.”

Respectable.
Rafa ached all over.

“This isn’t the twentieth century, Dad.” Chris shook his head. “Gay marriages are just as respectable. They’re just
marriages
now, no matter how many right-wingers try to change it back. Maybe equality isn’t popular in your Republican circles, but Rafa shouldn’t have to hide who he is.” Beside him, Hadley nodded strenuously.

“I’m not marrying Ashleigh, Dad.” Rafa’s own voice sounded far away. “I was never going to marry her. We were going to come out in January when you left office.”

Camila took a step toward him. “Dear, let’s not do anything rash.”

“It isn’t rash.” Rafa gritted the words out. “We’ve planned it for years. Did you really think I was going to stay in the closet my whole life?” As his parents stared at him, he realized they did.

Oh my God, they really, actually did.

“Rafa, you have to think about your future,” Ramon said quietly. “Your career.”

Adriana rolled her eyes. “Gay people have careers, Dad.”

“I’m not going into business anyway,” Rafa said. “I’m not going to work in some corporate office.”

Camila’s tone was sharp. “Well, what on earth do you plan on doing? Do you expect us to support you while you do what, exactly?”

“I’m going to Australia.”

Another silence filled the room. Camila folded her hands in front of her, her rings visibly digging into her white fingers. “And what do you plan to do in
Australia
?” She said the word as if she’d found it stuck to the bottom of one of her Louboutin heels.

“I’m going to apply to the Cordon Bleu. I’ll work in a restaurant to pay the bills.”

“Oh for God’s sake!” she shouted, her eyes flashing. “Why are you so obsessed with this ridiculous idea of cooking?”

“Why are you so afraid of it?” he yelled back. “It’s what I love to do, Mom. It’s what I’m going to do. Why does it bother you? Because you think it’s
gay
? Even though there are a million straight guys who are chefs? All these years I’ve played my part and done what you wanted. I tried so hard to be good. To be the son you wanted. But I never will be.”

“Rafa, you know we love you,” his father said solemnly. “No matter what, we love you. We always have, and we always will.”

Tears burned behind his eyes. “Then how could you do it?”

“Do what?” Ramon shook his head.

“That bill!”

His parents shared a puzzled glance. “Darling, what bill?” Camila asked.

They don’t even remember.

“S.J.Res. 19: A joint resolution proposing an amendment to the Constitution of the United States relative to marriage.”

Ramon frowned deeply. “That had nothing to do with you.”

“How can you say that?” Chris demanded, as Rafa’s head felt like it would explode.

“It was politics, dear.” Camila looked at Rafa with such genuine confusion. “It wasn’t anything to do with you.”

Rafa clenched his hands into fists. “How—how can you seriously say that to me? It was a bill to take away gay people’s rights. It felt like I’d been hit by a truck that night, but I told myself that you didn’t know.” He looked to his father. “That you’d have never supported it if you knew it was my rights you were trying to destroy. It was bad enough you supported it at all, but I told myself you would never do that to your own son.”

“It was a party decision, Rafa.” Ramon steepled his fingers and brought them to his chin. “It was about those people who insist on—”

“
I’m
those people, Dad! But no, you thought I’d live in the closet and marry a woman. That was never going to be my life. It never will be. One day I do want to get married, and I’ll be marrying a man. At least it’s still legal, no thanks to you. But you made me stand up there in front of all those people, smiling while you talked about traditional marriage, and God, and the Bible, and all that hate disguised as religion.”

“The party has a platform, Rafa. These decisions aren’t always mine,” Ramon insisted.

“If you didn’t even believe it that makes it worse!”

His mother stepped toward him, beseeching. “Rafa, we’ve always tried to guide you on the right path. You and Ashleigh are happy together! We thought it was the best for your future if we—”

“I can’t do this. I can’t.” His breath coming short and fast, Rafa’s head spun. He tore open the west door, hurrying along the little corridor past his father’s private study, and into the small dining room where his father and his staffers often ate. At the open door to the main corridor, he stopped in his tracks. Shane and Alan undoubtedly thought he was still in the Oval Office, and were stationed with the other crowd of agents in the main hallway by the northwest door.

He was alone.

“Rafa?” his father called.

Rafa patted his chino pockets, his heart soaring as he felt the hard metal of his car key. He’d toyed with the idea of taking a drive to clear his head after the interview, but now it was a burning need. Fuck his parents. Fuck the White House. Fuck the Secret Service. Fuck them all. He was going to take a drive.

There was no time to waste. Heart thumping, he edged out of the little dining room and into the main hallway, walking as fast as he could past the senior advisor’s office and the chief of staff’s. He kept his head down as he went, ignoring anyone he passed, resisting the urge to run.

Of course when he rushed by the security on the outside door, they called his name, and now he did run, racing to his car and hopping in as Shane and Alan burst out of the West Wing. In the rearview, he could see them hightailing it to their Suburban, and Rafa stepped on the gas. At the gate, he nodded and smiled to the guard, who raised the barrier just before he undoubtedly received a radio message, his expression changing as he called, “Wait!”

But Rafa wasn’t waiting. He roared away, and of course the Suburban followed. For a crazy moment he considered trying to ditch them, but it wouldn’t do any good, and would likely get them in trouble.

“Fuck!” His voice sounded hoarse. “I just want to be alone!” He sped along the streets of DC, making turns to avoid stopping when he could. He had to keep moving. He had to. Seven years hiding in that place, and he was done.

In his pocket, his phone buzzed. He ignored it. When he was forced to stop at a red light, the Suburban was two cars behind him. His phone buzzed again, and he pulled it out. The caller ID only said
United States Secret Service.
Of course they had his cell number, but only called when they really had to. Was it Shane? The thought of hearing his voice was too much to resist, and Rafa hit the speaker phone as the light went green.

“Rafa?” It was indeed Shane, and Rafa’s eyes burned as his chest swelled. He wanted to pull over and tell Shane everything—pour out all the words that clogged his throat and threatened to choke him.

But he couldn’t, because the echo on the line indicated he was on the speaker in the Suburban, and because Shane was his Secret Service agent. He wasn’t his boyfriend. He wasn’t even his
friend.
Rafa was a job to him. He was nothing.
Nothing.
“Leave me alone,” he gritted out.

“I know you’re upset. Just tell me where you’re going. You can go wherever you want. Okay?”

The pain and fear and resentment tore through him with jagged teeth. “I know I can. I’m not a prisoner! Just let me go and leave me alone.
Please.”

“You know we can’t do that.” There was a pause, and Rafa could hear the murmur of Alan’s voice, probably talking to command. Probably calling more agents to come and box him in. “We just want to help.”

“No you don’t.” He took the freeway entrance, stepping on the gas and heading toward Virginia. “Everyone just wants me to shut up and smile and be a good boy.”

“Rafa, I know it feels—”

“No!” Rage sliced through him, icy hot. “You don’t know anything about how I feel.” He hung up and gripped the wheel.

The miles ticked by, and the Suburban stayed behind him. No other Secret Service vehicles appeared, at least. The gray clouds darkened, and rain splattered the windshield. Rafa had no idea where he was going, but he kept driving on to West Virginia as the afternoon waned. He knew he should turn around and get back to the White House—go “home,” what a joke—but he couldn’t bear having to talk to his family again. At least in his car he was alone. As alone as he could get until January.