“The lying. The sneaking around. My mum asked if you were my boyfriend and I said no, Charlie. I said no . Like you were nothing. I hate myself. I hate who I become when I’m scared. You deserve someone who doesn’t have to think about holding your hand.”
The first crack came when Nick refused to hold Charlie’s hand in front of Harry Greene and the rugby lads. Charlie saw the flash of panic in Nick’s eyes, the way his hand twitched and then dropped. He understood. Coming out wasn’t a single event; it was a thousand small decisions, repeated daily. But understanding didn’t stop the cold, familiar ache in his chest. Nick and Charlie
He leaned down and pressed a kiss to Nick’s temple. “The lying
And Charlie, in turn, showed up for Nick. When Nick’s own father dismissed his bisexuality with a wave of a hand (“It’s just a phase, Nicholas”), Charlie was the one who drove two hours to Nick’s dad’s house, sat in the car, and held Nick’s hand while he cried. He didn’t try to fix it. He just stayed. I said no