The Beard

Chapter Five

I blanch at his words. They don't process because for some reason I'm not letting them. Sebastian's declaration is repeated over and over in my head, yet I can't make sense of the words. Gay? Sebastian gay? Sebastian is gay? What the heck is he talking about? He wouldn't be with me if he were gay.

"Sebastian, that's not funny," I say softly before clearing my throat and straightening my back. "Why would you joke about that? There are people who actually do struggle with their sexuality and you're making a joke of it."

Sebastian stares at me, a frown on his face. He shakes his head and scoffs. "I'd never joke about something like this, Emerson, you know that."

And just like that, the tether to sanity is broken. It's like something in me snaps and I welcome all these thoughts of self-doubt. I must not have been enough for him, maybe because I hadn't brought up sex earlier. Or maybe it's because he is so repulsed by me that I made him gay. I'm the reason Sebastian likes boys!

For the first time ever, I feel insecure. I mean, I wasn't raging with confidence before, but that's because there was never any reason for me to feel overly confident or insecure. All I did was exist. Now I feel myself plummeting into the abyss of doubt, insecurity, and I find myself lacking any confidence to handle this situation. What's happening?

"Emie?" Sebastian speaks. I absentmindedly look up at him.

Sebastian...my sweet boyfriend of five years. The day he asked me out was the best day of my life. As a thirteen-year-old, I was so elated that my crush had shown interest in me. I can still remember that he had been wearing blue jeans and a striped, collared shirt. He looked cute. Hiding his hands behind his back, he held a card and chocolates. The card had red and white chrysanthemums on it, which I later found out represents love and loyalty. I still have it because that card made me fall in love with flowers. It also got me interested in what different flowers represented. The only thing Sebastian had managed to squeak out was, 'girlfriend' before I threw myself at him in happiness.

"You've known for a while?" I question softly. My voice is a barely audible whisper. I'm getting emotional, but don't want to cry. "That's why you've been distant?"

I look up to catch Sebastian nodding. He looks solemn and his lips are turned down in a grimace. He refuses to meet my gaze. Jesus. Am I that hideous that he can't even look at me right now?

"I've always suspected," Sebastian admits, causing me to gasp.

"What do you mean you've always suspected?" I ask, confused by his confession.

There's no way. Would that mean that when he asked me out years ago, he was aware that he didn't like girls? Unable to look at him, my eyes move to the blue walls while my mind reels. When I turn to watch him, he runs his tanned hand down his face. I focus on the way his eyes close and how his nostrils flare slightly with each deep breath he takes. He drops his hand and fiddles with the side seam of his jeans.

"Did you 'suspect' when you asked me out?" I ask once he gives no reply to my previous question.

Sebastian nods slowly, his eyes narrowing as he winces. "Yeah...it's why I asked you out, Emie," he says, but his tone is unsure and questioning.

His words are like the last blow that shatters my heart into a million pieces. I feel betrayed, no, used like a tissue that's been soiled, and now has been discarded for a handkerchief.

"Let me explain, Emie, please!" Sebastian says quickly as he gets down on his knees in front of me. I stare at him, through him. There is no way I'm going to allow him to guilt me into feeling bad. I'm stronger than that.