All Chapters of Our love to hide: Chapter 61 - Chapter 70

Ethan paced the front of the classroom like he used to pace the edges of the lake nervously, always questioning if he belonged. But today, he felt steadier. The topic on the board read: “Write the story you thought you’d never be allowed to tell.” He turned to his students. “You can write it as fiction, memoir, poetry, whatever you need. Just… write what was once forbidden.” A silence settled, not out of fear but reverence. And then pens started moving. By the end of the week, Ethan had read over twenty stories. Each one gutted him. A trans girl’s poem about her childhood name feeling like a haunted house. A nonbinary student’s short story about a tree that only grew crooked when no one was looking. A gay student who wrote a letter to a father who never spoke again after he came out. Ethan wept alone in his office after reading the last one. And when he got home, he didn’t speak much, just hugged Nathan tightly, burying his face into his chest like the world was too heav

The studio lights were warm, almost gentle.Nathan sat across from the radio host, a calm woman named Mara with soft eyes and a voice like honey steeped in midnight. The show was live, the topic clear: From Controversy to Compassion: Queer Families in the Public Eye.Nathan had done interviews before. Plenty.But not like this.This one wasn’t about defense.It was about legacy.And he wasn’t ready.Mara smiled across the table. “So tell me, Nathan, what has surprised you most about building a new life after everything you and Ethan have been through?”Nathan opened his mouth.But nothing came out.His heart jumped. His breath snagged.The silence stretched. Mara leaned in, gently.“Nathan?”He blinked once. Twice.And then it hit like glass cracking beneath the skin.The weight.Of the years.Of the hiding.Of Lucas.Of Elijah.Of holding Ethan while pretending he didn’t want to fall apart himself.His throat closed.“I… I don’t know,” he croaked, eyes suddenly wet. “I thought I was

It started with a phone call at 10:47 p.m.Nathan was brushing his teeth. Ethan was half-asleep on the couch, a novel balanced on his chest.The call came from Marsha, the caseworker they'd connected with for the foundation planning. Her voice was low, fast, panicked. “We’ve got a seventeen-year-old. Kicked out tonight. No safe family. He’s queer, scared, and refusing to go to a group shelter. He’s asking for you two.”Nathan was instantly awake.“What’s his name?”“Jayden. But he goes by J.”Ethan, now sitting up, locked eyes with Nathan as he put the phone on speaker.Marsha added, “I know this is early. I know you’re not set up yet. But you said—‘Call us if a kid needs someone.’ This is me calling.”There was no hesitation.“Bring him,” Ethan said.They cleared out the guest room in record time.Micah hovered in the hallway, arms crossed. “Are we getting another one?”Nathan smiled. “Not replacing you, if that’s what you’re asking.”Micah looked away. “Wasn’t asking.”But he left

The courthouse was colder than expected.Fluorescent lights hummed above. The tile floors echoed every step like a warning. But Ethan held Micah’s hand. Nathan walked beside J.They weren’t here to face charges.They were here to make something official.To say: You belong here. You are wanted.Even if the walls didn’t look like love, the paperwork would be proof.The receptionist handed out the forms.“Fill out both for guardianship and name change if desired,” she said without looking up.Micah held the clipboard like it might explode. J tapped his pen nervously.Nathan smiled. “Take your time.”They sat on a bench in the corner.It was quiet for a while just the scribble of pens and the occasional shuffle of chairs.Until J muttered, “I don’t know what to write.”Micah glanced over. “For what?”J pointed.Preferred Name:“I don’t know what it is. I only know what it wasn't.”Ethan put a hand on his shoulder. “There’s no rush. You can keep the one you’ve been using. Or change it. Or

The rally was over. The headlines had faded.But something had changed.Not just in the city.In the house.In the boys.Micah sat in the quiet of the shelter’s library once a storage room, now lined with rainbow spines and soft beanbags. He stared at the copy of The Little Prince, well-worn, dog-eared, the one Ethan used to read to him on panic-spiral knights.He read the same line over and over.“You become responsible, forever, for what you have tamed.”He closed the book.He wasn’t a tamed thing anymore. He was the tamer now.J had started teaching a free art class at the shelter every Friday.Kids who barely spoke would sit for hours, sketching monsters with soft eyes or superheroes with scars. J said nothing. He just drew beside them, passing them his colors, letting silence become language.One of the youngest kids Kai climbed onto his lap one day without a word. Just curled up like J was furniture. Safe furniture.And J froze. Then melted.That night, he didn’t sleep.He just