“I didn’t mean to. They started joking, and I panicked. I didn’t want to be next. So I laughed. And I joined in. I called you that name because I thought it would deflect attention from what I saw. I thought that it would take over and he wouldn’t say anything or give you… another name.”
“That wasn’t deflection. That was betrayal, Ryan.”
Silence filled the room, broken only by the soft hum of the lamp.
“I hate who I was,” he said.
I searched his face, wondering if he had truly changed—or if he’d simply grown older.
“Then why didn’t you tell me all of this before now? Why wait for this moment?”
“Because I thought… if I could prove I’d changed, if I could love you better than I hurt you… maybe that would be enough.”
“You kept this secret for 15 years.”
“There’s more,” he continued. “And I know I’m probably ruining everything right now, but I’d rather ruin it with the truth than keep living a lie.”
“I’ve been writing a memoir, Tara.”
My stomach dropped.
“At first it was for therapy. Then it became a real book. My therapist encouraged me to submit it, and a publisher picked it up.”
“You wrote about me…”