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After their third date, Anthony invited Asa to meet her parents.
“Oh,” Asa was taken a little by surprise when Anthony had posed the question, “are— are you
sure?”
Anthony nodded, taking Asa’s hand, “yes!” He smiled, “I want them to meet you.”
“Alright,” Asa smiled, looking down to their hands. It was a quiet afternoon, the two of them alone in
the bookshop; Anthony helping Asa sort out some new stock.
“If you don’t feel like you’re ready, then don’t feel any pressure to—.”
“No!” Asa said quickly, interrupting, “yes, I want to!”
“Alright,” Anthony murmured, leaning in to meet Asa’s lips.
Asa‘s stomach twisted uncomfortably as he sat in the passenger seat of Anthony’s car on the way to
meet her parents. He kept telling himself not to be so scared: he knew Anthony’s parents were
lovely but he still couldn’t let his guard down.
“You okay, love?” Anthony asked, taking a right turn, “you’re being very quiet.”
Asa glanced over to his lover, “yeah,” he forced a smile, “I’m all good.”
“Sure?” Anthony asked lovingly, “it’s okay if you are nervous.”
“I am a little anxious,” Asa admitted.
Anthony nodded, “that’s okay,” he assured him, “my mums are super nice, but if you’re
uncomfortable at any point, we can leave.”
Asa nodded, “thank you.”
“Hey,” Anthony stopped to squeeze Asa’s hand before they got out the car, “we’ll be okay.”
Asa nodded hesitantly, exhaling slightly to steady himself. Leaning over the glovebox, Anthony
pressed a quick kiss into the corner of Asa’s mouth before getting out the car.
Asa followed, reaching for Anthony’s hand again when they waited outside the front door.
“Anthony!” The woman who opened the door smiled, “and you must be Asa!” She turned to Asa
who returned her smile with a little difficulty.
“I’m April,” she went on as another woman appeared behind her. April stepped aside, ushering them
in and pulling Anthony into a hug.
“Mum!” He grumbled when she ruffled her hair, stepping back to Asa’s side as he sensed his slight
discomfort.
“Frankie,” the other woman introduced herself, extending a hand to Asa. Asa accepted it. “Pleasure
to finally meet you. Anthony has told us close to nothing about you.”
“That’s—.” Interjected Anthony, “not true!”
“Anthony tells me you own a bookshop,” April stated, setting mugs of tea down on the table.
“Yes,” Asa nodded, “Tills. Me and my friend opened it nearly ten years ago. We met working in the
National Library several years prior.”
“Interesting!” Frankie took a sip of tea, “beautiful building. I used to study in there when I was at
college.”
Asa nodded, “yes. It has very impressive architecture! I read plenty of books when I was there, many
of which I made sure I got copies of to sell when we opened Tills.”
Anthony smiled with the memory as he put in, “he tried to sell me my own book.”
“Oh, good lord!?” Frankie groaned at the mention of her child’s writing, looking over to Asa who
smiled back meekly, ears going slightly pink, “seriously, he’s probably told you he has two boxes of
that book in her garage. Well, take a look in our loft, there’s at least twelve boxes up there.”
Asa chuckled softly at that as Anthony blushed slightly, “eleven, actually. And one of those boxes is
full of manuscripts I didn’t end up using!” She protested.
April added, “Not to mention, you gave eight boxes to your sister!”
“Janie offered to take them!” Anthony insisted. Asa smiled, kicking Anthony’s ankle under the table
affectionately. Anthony glanced over at him, returning the smile and laying his hand over Asa’s.
“Has Anthony met your parents yet, Asa?” Frankie asked with interest.
Asa’s blood went cold as he had to fight to restrain flinching at the question, “umm,” he forced a
smile, taking a sip of tea to buy himself time, “no, not yet.”
“Ahh!” April leant back in her chair, “we’re the first then. Lucky us!” She grinned over at her wife.
“Alright, mum,” Anthony grumbled, feeling Asa’s hand going clammy in his, “that’s enough with the
questions.”
“I just want to get to know him!” Frankie insisted.
“Sorry,” Asa interjected, his stomach squeezing, “where’s your bathroom?”
“Down the hall on the right,” April smiled.
“Thanks,” Asa said, barely audible, getting up and leaving.
As soon as he was out of earshot, Anthony said, “you guys are so embarrassing, I actually can’t.”
“He’s so cute, though, Anthony!” Frankie stage whispered, grinning over at her child.
Asa had gone very pale. As soon as the bathroom door had closed behind him, he slid to the floor
and tried to control his breathing. not now, god, please not now he thought, trying to loosen
the knot of anxiety that had formed in his stomach. why now, any time but now…
There was a knock on the bathroom door, “Asa?”
Asa tried to speak but found he couldn’t.
“Asa!” Anthony said again, pressing down the thumb latch and slipping into the bathroom. “Asa…”
she exhaled, kneeling down on the tiled floor next to him, “sorry about my mums, are you okay?”
“I…”
“Asa,” Anthony inhaled slowly, bracing both herself for what he was about to ask, and for what Asa’s
reply would be, “is everything alright with your parents?”
Bile rose in Asa’s throat which he hastily swallowed down, forcing himself to meet Anthony’s eyes as
he said, “of course, why do you ask?”
“Umm,” Anthony hesitated, “you seemed a bit… off when I mentioned mine, and then you
literally just ran out the room when yours were mentioned?” He shook his head, “sorry, you don’t
have to tell me, but I’m here for you.” She laid her hands over Asa’s, “do you want to leave?”
“Yes please,” Asa replied quietly, “I’m just…” he fidgeted a bit, finally letting himself look away, “…
anxious, is all.” Anthony nodded, pressing a firm hand on his boyfriend’s shoulder, “alright.”
Asa was silent in the car, still bar from his hands which fidgeted in his lap. Anthony wanted to speak,
but couldn’t find the words, instead occasionally glancing over at him with her affectionate gaze, or
momentarily laying her hand over his to still Asa’s restless fingers. It wasn’t a long drive back to the
bookshop, but the unspoken silence weighed on them both heavily, making time stretch.
“Asa,” Anthony said softly when his car was parked outside Tills. He shifted in the passenger seat,
not making an effort to get out. “Asa—.” Anthony stopped when her voice broke, swallowing hastily.
Asa sniffed once, then again. Anthony tried, “do you want to come home with me?” He asked, ready
to turn the key to start the car again.
Asa said nothing, just wiped his eye in the cuff of his coat and gave a small nod.
“Alright,” Anthony smiled, leaning over the glovebox to gently press a kiss into the corner of his
boyfriend’s mouth.
Asa wordlessly entered Anthony’s apartment and followed him through to her bedroom.
“Hey,” Anthony smiled, taking Asa’s hands gently, “don’t worry about it.”
Asa, avoiding Anthony’s eye, took at deep breath before gently pressing his lips against hers.
Anthony was, to say the least, a little surprised that Asa was kissing him at this moment until the
words, “you’re so beautiful, Anthony.” Came out of his mouth. He half gasps, shoving her boyfriend
backwards onto the bed until Asa was lying in his back.
Asa’s eyes were closed as he letting his lover undress him as his breathing became shallow with all
the new sensations that overcame his body.
“Asa…” Anthony said warily.
Asa inhaled through his nose, distracted by his feelings with his eyes closed back arched slightly,
“yes, dear?”
“Sorry, did you not want me to—?” Anthony pressed his lips together, unsure of her permissions.
“What?” Asa lifted his head off the pillows and it hit him. Anthony was trying to look at Asa’s face
but kept glancing down to his ankles; Asa avoiding all eye contact.
Anthony whispered, “Asa…”
The words got momentarily stuck in Asa’s throat but eventually he choked out, “sorry.” He got up
with great haste and gathered up his clothes from the floor, making a start for the door.
“Asa!” Anthony was quicker, blocking the doorway, “Asa, talk to me!” He pleaded.
“Anthony!” Asa cried, “ I’m sorry…” he tried to push Anthony aside but she remained where she was,
blocking the exit.
“You know this doesn’t change anything, I still… love you.” Anthony whispered the last part, looking
down at his feet as heat rose in his face. Asa’s eyes went wide, unsure of which situation to address
first.
It was Anthony who eventually spoke, “Asa,” she put a hand on Asa’s face and lifted his chin so he
was staring at him, “let me understand.”
Asa’s shoulders visibly dropped, “I… can’t,” he sobbed, bowing his head to stop Anthony from seeing
his tears.
“Hey,” Anthony kissed his hair, lifting Asa’s chin gently, “look at me.” Asa turned his head away.
“Look at me!” Anthony said firmly. Asa forced himself to look into her eyes, willing himself not to
start crying again. They held the gaze for a few moments until Asa’s breathing slowed.
Guiding him over to sit on the bed, Anthony mumbled, “I want to understand.”
Asa nodded slowly, tears dripping down his face, “it’ difficult,” he sniffed.
“I know, love,” he pulled him into a hug, “can you help me to understand?”
Asa nodded against her chest, pulling back a little and saying, “it’s my parents.”
Anthony had to physically repress the gasp that formed in her lungs. It took Asa a second afterwards
to gain the courage to speak again, “They didn’t… react like yours did when I told them I was
transgender. They made me hate myself and—.” Asa tilted his head back, trying to steady his voice,
as he cried. Anthony put an arm around Asa and rubbed his back.
Leaning into his lover’s chest, he whispered, “thank you.”
“Sorry,” Asa sniffed, wiping his tears away with the back of his hand, “I’ll tell you more one day, I
just—.”
“Asa,” interrupted Anthony, “you have nothing to be sorry for. Thank you for telling me.”
Asa nodded slowly, feeling the tension rolling off him in waves: it felt good to have told someone.
Anthony squeezed him, pulling him into a proper hug. “Thank you,” she whispered, “I’m sorry that
happened to you.”
Asa sniffed, hands fidgeting in his lap, “Thank you for listening.”
“Of course, my darling,” Anthony promised, “any time.”
Asa looked down at his ankles the next morning as he took a shower. The scars were faded: raised
white stripes across his skin reminding him of what had happened. But, nestled between them: the
tattoo. The promise. The decision to never go back. The semi-colon.
Asa was eighteen when he got it, the day after his birthday. The day after he saw his parents for the
final time. The day he chose to keep on living.
The water ran over it, small bubbles of soap (Anthony’s soap. Asa loved that he got to use it) drifting
over it as if it were a distorted fragment of reality. A mere hallucination that had not dictated his
entire life.