Finding The One Box Set

Chapter 4: Sinner, Repent!

Chapter 4: Sinner, Repent!

As soon as Luca closed the door behind him, he toed off his shoes and stood with bare feet on the soft, long-haired rug taking up a big part of the floor of his office at the café. The rug he didn’t allow anyone to step on unless they removed their shoes first. He buried his toes in the green shag and sighed as he tried to imagine tendrils of calmness worming their way from the rug, up through his body.

He adored that green rug. It was the exact color of grass in spring, and he stood on it whenever he needed to center himself. Gus teased him for being so afraid of bugs, he didn’t dare to be barefoot on real grass and called it Luca’s fake office lawn. Luca didn’t mind; he retaliated by sticking out his lower lip in an exaggerated pout, which always ended with Gus trying to kiss it away. Anything resulting in a kiss from Gus was a win in Luca’s book.

Gus.

Luca’s breath caught at the thought of his fiancé, and a sharp pain pierced his heart. What would Gus do when Luca didn’t show up? Would he think Luca had stood him up? That he had changed his mind, not wanting to get married anymore?

But he was rooted to the floor, unable to move. It didn’t matter that he was thirty-one years old and should know better than to let his mother get to him. Her words had been a sledgehammer to his confidence and had robbed him of his usual bravery. The thought of walking down the aisle under his mother’s disapproving stare made him want to hide, and he couldn’t make his feet walk out of the room and back to his fiancé.

Instead, he shrugged out of the jacket, unzipped the pants, and shimmied out of them. He stretched toward the office chair and put the white tuxedo carefully on it, before sinking down on the rug. He curled in on himself, pulled up his legs, and hugged them. Let his hair fall and hide his face, resting his smooth cheek on his knees. He shivered, naked except for his bright pink skimpy briefs and the veil.

He grabbed the hem, determined to pull it off and throw away the piece of fabric that had resulted in him being naked in his office, alone. But he couldn’t do it. His mother might not like it, but this was who he was. He just had to calm down, forget her hurtful words, and convince himself Gus loved him just the way he was. Veil and all.

It was much harder than he’d expected, considering Gus had been nothing but supportive and loving since the first moment they met.

Luca would never forget the first present Gus had ever given him. It had been small and wrapped in shiny pink paper, and his boyfriend had blushed when handing it over. If Luca had seen anything more adorable in his life, he couldn’t recall.

“It’s cherry. I love cherry,” Gus had stammered when Luca tore the paper off a tube of deep red lip gloss from his favorite brand.

Luca had stared at it, unable to believe his eyes. He knew Gus liked kissing him when he was wearing gloss, and that he didn’t mind his feminine-looking clothes—but he’d never expected this kind of acceptance. No one had ever respected him like this before. Not any of his previous lovers and definitely not his mother.

To say she had been upset when she’d found out he was gay was an understatement. One afternoon, senior year in high school, Luca had brought his boyfriend Mike home. They’d been in the middle of a heavy make-out session when his mother had come home early from work and found them on the couch. She’d taken one look at them and started screaming, wordless, hysterical screeching as if someone was being murdered right before her eyes.

Mike had jumped up and run out as if his ass were on fire, leaving his shirt behind, and Luca was alone with his livid mother.

For the longest time, she’d just stared at him with flaring nostrils. Before Luca had time to react, she’d raised a shaking hand and slapped him. Luca’s head had jerked back, not because she’d hit so hard, but because he’d been utterly surprised. Never before had she raised a hand to him. She hardly ever yelled at him, always spoke in a low, controlled voice.

Luca’s hand flew to his stinging cheek, and tears welled up in his eyes.

“You’re a sinner. A pervert,” she’d roared so loud, he’d been afraid the neighbors would hear. “I didn’t raise my son to be a freak!”

The words had stung worse than her palm, and he would never forget them.

The rest of the spring semester had been awful. Gone was the warm loving mother he’d always known. Instead, she’d demanded he’d change or he was going to hell. She’d dragged him to church and forced him to talk to a priest in an effort to save his immortal soul.

At first, Luca had tried his best to keep calm and to reason with her, hoping she’d come to her senses and realize he was the same person as always. He was so afraid of losing her. They’d always been close, and she was the only family he had. He’d never known his father; the guy had taken off when his mother had told him she was pregnant and hadn’t been seen since.

Luca had only been eighteen and hadn’t known how to deal with this furious woman, who took every opportunity to condemn him and his behavior.

Deep down, Luca had realized this would be the outcome if he ever told her about his sexuality. It wasn’t that she’d openly spoken against gays, because she tried her hardest not to judge anyone, at least not with words. It was the look on her face whenever she saw a same-s*x couple that had given her away; a pinched expression like she’d witnessed something repulsing. So he hadn’t planned on letting her know until much later, if ever.

The situation had culminated a few days before he’d left for college. His mother had marched into the house, followed by two serious-looking, elderly men, and informed Luca he was going with them to a pray-the-gay-away-camp. At first, he’d been stunned and couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He’d pleaded and asked her to reconsider, saying she’d regret it later, but nothing had helped. She’d been adamant—he was going.

When Luca had gotten upset, one of the men had grabbed his arm in an attempt to lead him out of the house. Luca had shoved him and run out, leaving his mother and the two men behind.

He’d spent the night at a friend’s house, trying to silence his distressed sobbing with an old borrowed pillow. When he’d returned the next day, he’d hoped she’d changed her mind, but she’d been even angrier than before. With ice in her voice, she’d told him she’d never accept a freak in her house. But at least she’d allowed him to pack some things before she’d thrown him out.

Even thirteen years later, he still remembered how he’d felt that day. As if someone had grabbed him by the throat and squeezed so tight, he couldn’t breathe. Like someone had ripped out his heart, stomped on it, and left it broken and bleeding on the floor.

And thirteen years later—on the happiest day of his life—his mother had stared at him with cold eyes and spit out that hateful word again.

Freak.