No Sacrifice Read online

  And Chance’s loving, his understanding, only made Patrick feel worse. Chance deserved much more than a boyfriend—a partner—who had to hide who he was. He didn’t deserve to be relegated to “friend” even if it was “best friend.” He shouldn’t have to sneak around to just hold and kiss. He deserved someone as out of the closet as he was.

  Patrick started to have trouble breathing. What had he been thinking? This whole trip had been insane and stupid.

  “Stop,” Chance murmured. “I know what you’re thinking. So you need to stop.” He tugged until Patrick turned around and looked up into blue eyes. They looked pained. “No, I’m not upset for me. I hurt for you.” He cupped Patrick’s face, brushing a thumb over one cheek. “I wish I could make this easier for you. I got so lucky with my own mama. I’ve never had to go through this the same as you are. I can handle pretending for a while. I can handle not touching you in front of your parents. You’re worth it.”

  Patrick closed his eyes and rested his face in Chance’s hand. “I don’t deserve you,” he whispered.

  “Shhh,” Chance replied, kissing Patrick gently.

  Patrick returned it, trying a little desperately to let go of his fears again and just love Chance. Chance must have felt it because he kept offering soft words of comfort and love between kisses.

  When they finally broke apart, Patrick sighed. “I have to tell them about me and Em.”

  Chance nodded. “That would be a start.”

  “Mama’s not going to be happy with me. I didn’t want to do it before today. New Year’s Eve is kind of big here too, but I don’t think it’s any more fair to tell her, then take off.”

  Chance frowned. “Well… you said Quinn and Alana were behind you before, right?”

  Patrick nodded. “Yeah, they were.”

  “So at least you can count on them. I don’t know how the rest will take it, but even if I can’t hug you while it’s happening, the second we can escape to bed, I’ll hold you and not let you go.”

  “Thank you,” Patrick murmured, then took a deep breath. “Speaking of bed… let’s go in. I need a shower, but then I think we should get to sleep. It’s late for us.”

  “Of course, baby.” Chance kissed him again. “We’ll get through it, okay?”

  Patrick smiled up at him, but he wondered just what he was going to do to Chance if he kept putting his lover through all this. He wasn’t being fair and he knew it. He just didn’t know what else to do.

  He managed to put it off for three more days, but when a lull hit in conversation late on Sunday night and Devin sent him a look, Patrick knew it was time to spill the beans. Patrick glanced at Chance, who raised his eyebrows, obviously reading Patrick correctly. He mouthed “It’s time,” and Chance nodded, giving him a bolstering smile.

  Patrick took a deep breath and looked at his da, then his mother. Tutu nodded once at him, and Patrick suspected she knew what was coming. “Mama, Da, I… have something to tell you.”

  He loved his family. “Ohana” wasn’t just something Disney exploited for their movie. Ohana meant something to the Hawai’ians, and his family was no exception. Sometimes, though, like now, he wished it didn’t.

  “What’s that, Patrick?” Mama asked, sitting up.

  Patrick swallowed, trying to calm himself. “Uh… I told you that Em and I haven’t gotten back together yet.”

  “Yes, I knew that.” She already didn’t look happy, and that sent Patrick’s heart racing even faster.

  “Um, well, we… we’re… uh….” He blew out a breath. “We’re officially divorced.”

  Patrick gave her credit for not freaking out right away. She sat up a little straighter and tilted her head as if she didn’t quite believe him. “When did this happen?”

  “It was final as of the end of September.” Patrick gripped his beer bottle tighter, then downed the rest of it, annoyed it had so little effect on him.

  “So quickly? Why?” She was too calm. This did not bode well, in Patrick’s opinion.

  He sighed. “We weren’t in love, Mama. We just realized it.”

  “How could you not be in love? You were together for years. Of course you were.”

  Patrick shook his head. “We weren’t. I still care about her, but I don’t love her and she doesn’t love me.”

  Kalea scowled. “That’s not how marriage works, Patrick Aeden. You don’t just fall out of love,” she insisted.

  Patrick tried not to get angry and worked to keep his calm. “I don’t think we were ever in love, to begin with.” He glanced at Devin, who looked—annoyingly—smug. He made a mental note to punch the smug smile off his brother’s face later. Quinn was frowning, but he didn’t seem upset, necessarily. Alana just looked sympathetic, as did Tutu. Da… seemed to be avoiding his eyes and was mostly focused on Mama.

  “I don’t believe that,” Mama insisted. “I saw you two together.”

  He ground his teeth. “I’m not saying we never cared about each other. Or that we didn’t like each other. And we were, most certainly, in lust. But we’ve agreed that we were never actually in love.”

  His mama shook her head. “Well, couldn’t you have fallen in love?”

  Patrick closed his eyes and counted to ten. He’d expected her to be angry. Or upset. Questioning him like this was not one of the expected reactions. “No. We couldn’t have. I don’t think it works like that, either. Look…. Em has remarried. She’s happy. I don’t want to get in the way of that. She’s a friend, I care about her as a friend, and that’s all.”

  “What about Avery?” she asked.

  This, he’d expected. “I have primary custody of him. He lives with me most of the time, partially because I have a steadier schedule. And partially because….” He paused and glanced at Chance, then took the plunge. “And partially because Emily’s new wife isn’t that great with kids.”

  “Did you say… wife?” Alana asked.

  Patrick blushed but nodded, looking at his sister.

  “She… married a… woman?” Mama asked.

  “Yes. Her name is Sara. And while Sara doesn’t hate kids or anything, she’s not great with them. She’s fine with Avery visiting at times. She doesn’t mind visiting Cali for them to see him. But… they wouldn’t be happy with him living there. So he lives with me, and Em helps me support him.”

  Mama just blinked at him for a long moment, but she didn’t say anything. Patrick waited for the outburst, sure his mother would have something to say about Emily’s wife. Instead, she shook her head again. “I… I don’t see how any of that’s good for that child. I can’t believe you didn’t try harder, Patrick Aeden Tearney. We taught you better than that.” She snapped her mouth closed and swallowed several times. Patrick watched her fight for control. “I… I don’t know where I went wrong. How I failed—”

  “Mama, that’s not fair,” Quinn offered.

  “Don’t you even talk to me about this, Quinn Michael, Mr. Confirmed Bachelor. You don’t know a thing about marriage.”

  Quinn pressed his lips together and sent an apologetic look toward Patrick, who loved him about a hundred times more for trying.

  He gave Quinn a brief nod to let his brother know the effort was appreciated, then turned back to his mother. “Mama, please, it’s not anything you did wrong.”

  “Then tell me, Patrick, just where you learned that it was okay to abandon a wife and not even try to make a marriage work?”

  Patrick swallowed. It wasn’t the words so much as his mother’s tone. He felt about eight years old again, being lectured about not coming home at dark or something equally—at the time—momentous.

  “That’s not fair, Mama. He didn’t abandon her.” This time Alana tried. “They both agreed to split.”

  “Alana Kani, I did not ask for your help.”

  Alana scowled. “I’m not trying to help you. You’re not being fair to Patrick.”

  Mama shook her head. “I am being perfectly fair. And you are not in any better position to form a
n opinion than Quinn is.” She looked back at Patrick, and he saw the first tears fall. He did his damnedest to steel himself against them, but of course, as it’d always been, he was pretty much powerless. “I don’t know how you could do this, Patrick, I just don’t know.” She stood up, and Patrick couldn’t miss how ramrod straight her back was, as if she was defying everything in an attempt to keep herself together.

  He took a deep breath and tried one more time. “I didn’t do anything, Mama. We just realized we’re not in love. We didn’t think it was right to keep either of us from possible happiness just to pretend to be in love when we weren’t. I’m sorry that you can’t seem to understand that.” He regretted the last line as soon as it was out, but he couldn’t take it back, so he snapped his mouth shut.

  “I see. I see how you feel. I see what you think of me.” She shook her head. “You are a real disappointment, Patrick Aeden Tearney.” And with that, she swept out of the room.

  Patrick was pretty sure he could have heard a pin drop on a wad of cotton in that moment. Devin didn’t speak, simply left, shooting Patrick a nasty look. Patrick hoped Devin would still keep his orientation quiet, perhaps at least to keep from upsetting Mama further.

  Da stood up and considered him a moment. “You’re a grown man now. It’s not up to me to question your decisions.” He shrugged a shoulder. “Stuff happens. It’s not about changing that. You can’t. Just make better choices in the future.” He laid a hand on Patrick’s shoulder. “She’ll come around. Just give her time.” Then he was gone, undoubtedly to comfort his wife.

  Patrick didn’t know how to take his da’s words. Shaughn Tearney rarely contradicted his wife, and showing affection—outside of hugging to greet and say good-bye—was about as rare.

  “Well, it’s time for me to go to bed.” Tutu hauled herself to her feet and thumped across the room to Patrick, crooking a finger. Patrick stood, and she pulled him into a one-armed hug. “Remember what I told you. You did the right thing. Your da’s right. She’ll come around.” And with that, she thumped over to the steps and up to her apartment.

  Quinn, Alana, Chance, and Patrick sat in silence for several long moments.

  “Wow, I… can’t believe she pulled that kind of guilt out.” Quinn shook his head, then scowled. “And it’s not like I’ve never been in relationships. Just because she doesn’t see them doesn’t mean they’re not there.”

  “She doesn’t?” Patrick asked.

  Quinn shook his head and finished his own beer. “Nope. I prefer to keep my dates in Honolulu. She can’t cause problems that way. Like demanding I bring them for dinner. Or ask them when we’re getting married.” He shuddered.

  Alana chuckled. “She’s constantly on me. I’m just not ready for all that. Just because I’m pushing thirty doesn’t mean I’ve got to settle down right this minute and have kids. Ugh.”

  Patrick smiled. “I don’t blame either of you for keeping away from her. After all this….” He shook his head.

  “Yeah, well. I’d be careful who else you introduce her to,” Quinn said, standing up. “At least she doesn’t suspect anything else.”

  Chance nearly choked on his beer. He spit it out and started coughing.

  Quinn pounded him on the back and handed him a napkin. “You okay?” Chance nodded but obviously couldn’t form a verbal answer. “Cool. Well, this has been eventful. I think my Kindle’s calling my name. Night, guys.”

  Alana sighed and gathered her knitting. She stuffed the bright blue wool balls into a bag and turned to them. “So… is it what I think it is?” she asked.

  Patrick and Chance glanced at each other, then to her. “Uh… what do you think?” Patrick asked.

  She rolled her eyes, then moved to sit in front of them on the footstool. She leaned over and looked down the hall before speaking. “You’re more than friends, aren’t you?”

  Patrick sighed. “You’ll keep it to yourself?” She nodded. “Okay. Yes. We’re… partners. We live together back in LA.”

  Alana’s eyes widened. “Wow. That’s… really cool. I’m happy for you. Though… I have to say I’m a little jealous.”

  Patrick raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

  She grinned. “Yeah. He’s so pretty.”

  Patrick laughed and looked over to see Chance blushing. “I’m not sure I’d say ‘pretty,’ but… he’s certainly not hard to look at.”

  “Thanks,” Chance grumbled.

  Patrick and Alana laughed. She leaned in and hugged him. “I’m sorry about Mama. I won’t say anything. Do you love him?”

  “Yeah. I do. Way more than I thought possible to love someone.”

  “Good,” she whispered, dropping a kiss on his cheek. “Well,” she said to both of them. “My turn too. Mine’s a Nook, not a Kindle, but… I think it’s time to crash. Night.”

  Patrick and Chance wished her good night and watched as she left. “Quinn’s guessed too, hasn’t he?” Chance asked.

  Patrick nodded. “Yeah. So that’s three. But… I really don’t think they’ll say anything. Devin’s too much of a mama’s boy and too afraid of making her mad. Quinn and Alana are on our side. They don’t want things harder on us.” He sighed. “Let’s go to bed. I know it’s a little early—”

  “Not for us.” Chance chuckled.

  Patrick laughed. “True. Anyway….”

  Two steps in the bedroom door, he had Chance in his arms and their lips were fused. Chance danced him back to the bed and honored his promise to not let go all night.

  Chance had seen plenty of big New Year’s Eve parties. And by plenty, that included what looked like the entirety of Atlanta. Chance had attended the Peach Drop on more than one occasion, getting lost in the crowds at the concerts or watching the eight-foot, eight-hundred-pound peach fall to signal in the new year. Atlanta could party almost as well as New York.

  Neither had anything on the Tearneys.

  He lost count of the number of people that showed up somewhere around fifty. Patrick told him they were all related in some way on his mother’s side, either by blood or marriage: aunts and uncles, first, second, and third cousins, even a fourth cousin somewhere, a Queen Mary-sized boatload of in-laws, and any number of dates. They’d started arriving not long after noon, and the number had been growing steadily since.

  Three long tables set up on the patio held more food than Chance could ever remember seeing in one place. Sushi of more varieties than he knew existed covered one of them. Another had a mess of other typical Hawai’ian dishes, and the third was covered in desserts, easily half of which involved mochi—Japanese cakes made of rice flour—in some form. Shaughn Tearney manned a small temporary bar set up in a corner, with Guinness on tap, along with more beer and liquor than Benny usually had in his bar in LA. Chance suspected it was his way to avoid having to socialize too much.

  Music poured out of invisible speakers, an odd combination of traditional Hawai’ian and contemporary rock, but it was drowned out by the odd sound of the pidgin language most were speaking, along with the pops and cracks coming from the main yard. Quinn and one of their uncles—Chance couldn’t keep track of any names—set off firecrackers steadily throughout the evening. Each new mini-explosion was accompanied by children’s cheers and clapping and made Chance miss Avery a lot.

  “Why are you hiding behind a palm tree?” Patrick asked as he handed Chance a fresh beer.

  He wasn’t completely behind the tree, but he didn’t think he should point that out. “Wouldn’t you?”

  Patrick laughed. “Yes. Yes, I would. Hell, they’re my family and I want to hide half the time. But… there are a few cousins and aunts who want to know who you are. So… I’m afraid you’ll have to come out.”

  Chance frowned. “I won’t remember anyone’s names.”

  Patrick snickered. “Believe it or not, I don’t remember many either. The aunties and uncles, yes. Uh, outside of that? I even forget some of my cousins. Come on.”

  After the third aunt, fourth uncle, and se
cond cousin, Chance stopped even trying to remember names. He smiled, shook hands, and kept a death grip on his bottle of beer, which Patrick was nice enough to keep replacing. He knew, somewhere along the way, he’d have to get over not liking crowds or meeting people. If he wanted to be part of show business—writing songs or whatever—he had to be more of a people person. He just wasn’t sure Patrick’s family was the place to start.

  When Leia asked him if he’d be willing to play his guitar a little, Chance jumped on it as a way to participate and at least not have to talk. He found a spot in the corner of the living room, checked and did the bit of tuning his guitar needed, then managed to get lost in the music. Alana hung out quite a bit, and Leia kept him busy with requests. Quinn apparently put the firecrackers off to someone else and found a spot to watch and listen. And Patrick stayed with him as much as possible, only leaving when someone dragged him away to talk.

  After one such instance, Patrick came back scowling. Chance called a short break, took the beer Patrick handed him, and leaned in to speak. “What’s up?”

  Patrick shook his head. “Just another family member who thought it would be entertaining to lecture me on marriage.” He actually growled a bit. “I’m sick of being treated like I’m five and got caught stealing a fucking cookie.” He shook his head again. “And that’s not even the worst of it.”

  Chance raised an eyebrow, wishing he could at least rub his hand down Patrick’s back or something to offer comfort. “It’s not?”

  “Nope. When I finally got away, I got stuck talking to another aunt—my mother’s closest sister, who decided to try to discuss, at length, her outrage over—get this: same-sex marriage.”

  Chance simply blinked at him. “Let me guess, she’s not exactly for it.”

  “Oh hell, no. She went on to discuss how unnatural same-sex relationships are and how anyone involved in one is going to hell—I didn’t even know she was all that religious—and how they’re all corrupting the next generation.” He made a fist, then relaxed it, obviously fighting for control. “I mean, this is the first I’ve heard of it as a real problem, but that’s because nobody talked about it, you know? But fuck, I didn’t need to hear that tonight.”