(Mark's POV - Sun. 7 December 2014)

I am comfortably settled in one of these large white leather armchairs, but none of the luxurious equipment of Joshua's jet will soothe my pain or help me relax. My mother's sobs and incoherent sentences keep rehearsing in my head as I recline against the seatback and close my eyes.

I was quite pissed when I saw Aaron and Joshua barge into my playroom while I was fucking Shannon's mouth, but it was only for a brief second. It wasn't even embarrassment. We have shared so much since our teenage years – and even more over the past few years in Chicago – that I couldn't be bothered to interrupt such a hot scene with my boys. However, the worry and distress on their faces was enough to understand that something was wrong.

When the words I had feared to hear came out of Aaron's mouth, things occurred in some sort of daze for me, and my heart painfully constricted in my chest as I grabbed his phone and rushed to the bathroom to speak with my mother. Frustration coursed through me for not being around to calm her down, and unfortunately, my words of comfort were completely useless.

Within the few minutes I spoke with her over the phone, she barely managed a few words through her wailing, and eventually, it's one of her friends who was with her at the restaurant who told me that my father had had a heart attack and been transferred to ER with a guarded prognosis. Although I knew about Dad's health issues and all the exams he was going through at the moment, it was still a shock and I felt like a zombie when I walked back into my playroom.

I did register that Aaron and Joshua were taking care of the boys, freeing them from all the restraints they were tied in – including the leather straps I had wrapped around their privates to edge them. I should have been the one doing this, but I knew I could trust my friends for their kindness and respect, yet it only added to my guilt. Holding my boys and feeling their genuine support and concern helped a little, but the following minutes were quite painful and hard, especially as I had to reject their request to accompany me to New Jersey.

There were professional reasons to begin with. I know Aaron wouldn't have caused any problem, but I couldn't deprive him of one of his bartenders without proper notice. Le Marais could also deal with Alex's absence, but since he's supposed to take a full position of cook this week, I had rather he stayed here. But above all, I just couldn't butt in New Jersey with two boyfriends without having officially announced my situation to my parents yet.

I guess I could have done that in other circumstances, but I couldn't throw such a revelation in my mother's face when she's experiencing one of the worst hardships in her life. For crying out loud, she might be losing her husband right now, and as open-minded as she is, I'm not sure she'd like to see her son show up with two boyfriends in the present conditions.

I can only blame myself here, I should have spoken with her earlier. In my defense, the situation was a bit tricky since Alex joined us after my father's health issues had begun. I just wanted to protect them, without adding further stress to their current problems, waiting for a better opportunity to break the news. Now that I think about it, it was probably silly. My parents have always been so supportive that I'm sure they wouldn't have reacted badly.

Their motto has always been as long as you're happy, Mark, we're happy. Contrary to Joshua, Aaron and even Camden, my parents, and especially my mother, have always been great confidants, people whom I could trust my secrets with or ask advice from. Of course, we've had our disputes and they tried to reason me at specific times when they disagreed with my decisions, but at the end of the day, they've always respected and supported my choices. So, I can only blame myself for being alone on this plane, when I could have used my boys' support, and I promise myself to tell my parents about Alex as soon as possible.

That's if my father survives...

Tears escape my shut eyelids as my thoughts drift to the man I hold as my role model. I just can't imagine losing him. His strong arms never failed to catch me when I was about to fall as a kid. He conveyed his passion for cooking to me and I learned so much from him. Not only as far as cooking is concerned, by the way. He also taught me fundamental values such as endurance, perseverance and self-confidence. His guidance is what led me on the career path I embraced, and I could never thank him enough for this.

From an external perspective, one may think I'm closer to my mother, and in a way, it's quite true since I speak more often with her. My father is a discreet man, and not the talkative kind. He is very straightforward and concise in his conversations, going to the bare minimum and focusing on the most important aspects. It doesn't mean he won't listen if I need to speak with him. Stop beating about the bush, Son! Just go straight to the point! he always says.

"Sir, we'll land in less than minutes now..."

I startle a bit at the sound the stewardess's voice and the gentle touch of her hand on my shoulder. I was so lost in my thoughts that I didn't even hear approach, so I thank her, straighten up my seat and fasten my seatbelt. I also swiftly wipe the treacherous tears on my cheeks with rage, willing myself to find the strength I will need shortly. I can't afford to be weak in front of my mother, she will need all my support.

With the different time zones, it's almost 6am when the plane lands in Camden County Airport, but only 5am in Chicago. It's still too early to call anyone, so I quickly send a text to Joshua to thank him again for arranging my trip to New Jersey, then another one to the boys to let them know that I arrived safely and that I will call them later this morning.

The taxi I have booked is already here waiting for me, so I thank Joshua's crew and hurry to the cab. Our Lady of Lourdes Medical Center in Camden is barely a half-hour-ride from the airport, which leaves me plenty more time to worry about my father's condition. I'm trying to reach my mother's mobile phone when the ping of an incoming text echoes on my own device, but that's when she finally answers so the other message will have to wait.

"Morning, Sweetie..." she says with a hoarse voice. "Have you landed already?"

"Hi, Mom... Yes, I'm in the cab now, I should be with you in about twenty minutes. Any news? Have you seen the doctor since we last spoke?"

Of course, I called her back on my way to Chicago O'Hare to inform her of my impending visit, but sadly, she couldn't tell me much about my father's state.

"I haven't seen anyone since 4:30," she sighs as her voice breaks down again. "The doctor... The doctor said they were trying to... stabilize him... His heart stopped again around 3am... I'm so scared, Mark..."

I am so close to losing it. Pinching the bridge of my nose, I inhale a deep breath of air and try to get a grip on the lump forming in my throat.

"Dad is strong, Mom. He won't give up," I reply with all the determination I can muster.

"I know, Darling..."

"Hold on, Mom, I'll be with you shortly now."

"Sure. Stay safe. I'll text you where you should meet me exactly. I'll see you soon..."

"Thanks, Mom. I'll see you in a few minutes."

After I have hung up, I swap to my message application and frown at the latest text that arrived. This sender should be asleep right now.

Shannon – 5:07am: Glad you had a safe trip... Can I call you now?

I would love that. I would love to hear his voice right now, but mine would only scare him. Texting sounds better as I'll be able to convey more dominance and reassurance through written words.

Mark – 6:12am: You should be sleeping, Babe... I can't talk to you now, I'm on my way to the hospital. Go back to sleep, I promise I'll call you later.

Shannon – 5:13am: Okay... Any news? I'm worried...

Well, there's no need to worry him further with what my mom just told me, so I decide to go for a little lie.

Mark – 6:15am: I know you're worried, Babe, but there's nothing new so far. I'll keep you updated later this morning. Now please go back to sleep and cuddle Alex. I love you.

I would hope it should soothe him but the next text pops in only seconds later.

Shannon – 5:16am: I want to hear your voice. You can talk if you're in the cab!

Mark – 6:20am: SHANNON WATTS! GO BACK TO SLEEP! Shall I remind you of the rule that says you're supposed to have 8-hour nights? I'd better not get another message from this number in the next four or five hours, assuming you've already slept four hours since you got back home. I wouldn't like to go home and start with anything unpleasant, if you see what I mean. NOW GO BACK TO SLEEP. IT'S AN ORDER!

I can totally imagine the distress he's in at the moment, and I feel horrible for going all Dom on him, but getting sleep-deprived or telling him about my father's second heart attack would only worsen the situation, and knowing how fragile Alex is, I will need Shan to be in full form to soothe him. I really hate not having them beside me, but unfortunately, I don't have other options.

It seems like the message got through since I don't hear back from him, so I spend the last five minutes brooding over my dark thoughts. Just as the taxi stops in front of the hospital, my phone echoes with another incoming text, but I first hand my credit card to the driver before I check it out.

Alex – 5:26am: There's no need yelling in capitals... I don't want anything unpleasant when you return, just lots of kisses and hugs... Now I'm going back to sleep... Love you, Master! Shan

That little creep... I can't believe he thought of using Alex's phone to have the last word!

I just have time to send him another I love you before I retrieve my credit card and hop off the car with my luggage, then hurry to the main entrance of the hospital. Using the directions my mother sent me, I easily make my way through the corridors and lifts until I reach the waiting room next to the intensive care department. Obviously, I do recognize the petite woman with gray hair sitting on the edge of a chair in the corner, but my heart throbs when I notice her red-rimmed and swollen eyes and her exhausted features as she raises her head.

"Thank goodness, Mark... You're here..." she breathes out as she lunges to me.

Swallowing the lump in my throat, I wrap my arms around her, brushing her back for comfort as her sobs intensify.

"I'm here, Mom... Everything will be alright..." I whisper, hugging her tightly.

It takes quite a few minutes to calm her down, but my words of comfort eventually manage to soothe her a bit and I'm finally able to lead her back to her chair. I keep her cold hands in mine as I sit down beside her and once I have wrapped my coat over her shoulders since I can't see hers. I bet she must have left in a hurry.

"You still haven't seen anyone?" I ask, searching for tissues in her purse.

"No... I went to the nurses' office after your call, but she wouldn't tell me anything..."

"Okay. I'll go get you some tea and see if there's any news. I'll be right back, Mom."

With that, I step back out and first hurry to the nurses' office. There's a blonde young woman there, probably in her early twenties, loudly chewing gum while playing a game of solitaire on her computer.

"Ahem... Good morning..."

The nurse startles at the sound of my voice but as she turns around to face me, she straightens her back, proudly showing her clad breast, and squints at me, a lustful sparkle brimming in her eyes.

Don't waste your time, young lady... You won't get anywhere with me.

"Good morning, Sir! How can I help you?" she asks in a flirtatious tone, flashing a bright smile.

"I'm Paul Murray's son. My mother has been in the waiting room all night long but hasn't seen a doctor in almost three hours now. I'd like an update on my father's situation, please," I reply very dryly, which clearly dampens her eagerness.

"Sure. I'll see what I can do," she says, clearly defeated by my cold expression.

I was expecting her to either pick up her phone or walk to the IC, but she only turns back to her computer to play her game.

"Do I have to walk through the IC doors myself or will you? I want an update now, not in two hours!" I say harshly.

It seems to do the trick though since she finally rolls her chair back and heads out, sighing loudly as she walks past me. Meanwhile, I search the cafeteria to get tea for my mother and a coffee for me, then go back to the waiting room, leaving the door open so that I can see when the nurse comes back.

"Thank you, Sweetheart," my mother whispers as she takes her tea, warming her hands around the paper cup. "Was it still the blond nurse?"

"Yeah... She's gone to IC now. Can't believe I almost had to kick her out of her office!" I grumble. "Useless bitch..."

"Mark! Watch your language!" she scolds me, lightly slapping my thigh.

I roll my eyes at her, just as the bitchy blonde comes in.

"The doctor will be with you in ten minutes," she quickly says before she walks away.

For fuck's sake! This is an intensive care department! It can only imply patients with heavy health issues and families worrying for close relatives! Shouldn't the staff have better communication and compassion skills?

"You still haven't told me, Mom," I begin, trying to calm down. "What happened exactly? But you can tell me later if you prefer..." I add as her eyes fill with new tears.

"No, it's okay... It was very busy at the restaurant last night... A lot of customers. At 10, I went to help your father to prepare desserts in the kitchen... He was at the counter, about to serve a piece of lemon pie on a plate... His features suddenly tensed and... I don't know... It went so fast... He just collapsed on the floor and..."

"It's okay, Mom, take your time..." I encourage her, grabbing her hand in mine and squeezing it gently.

"I think I screamed because a customer rushed in and called for one of his friends to join us... The other guy was a doctor apparently, so he immediately attended to your dad while the other one called 911. I don't know how things happened then, but thankfully, the Smiths were having dinner at the restaurant too... I vaguely remember that Lana pushed me inside the ambulance... She said she'd take care of everything at the restaurant... and..."

"Shhh, it's okay, Mom. Just don't worry about the restaurant for now, I'm sure Lana managed..."

"Are you here for Paul Murray?" a strong voice interrupts me.

Both my mother and I startle a bit and turn toward the door where a man in his early fifties is standing, dressed in white overalls. I am usually quite good at reading people's faces, but his is just expressionless here, which leaves me perplexed and uncomfortable.

"How is my father doing?" I ask as we stand up and meet him at the center of the room.

"He's stable now. I'm sincerely sorry for the long wait, we really wanted to make sure he'd reach a better level of stability," he replies, and I allow myself a small sigh of relief despite the doctor's guarded tone. "Mr. Murray is sedated now, but we've been able to make several exams and get results from others he made recently. There are certainly consequences of a heavy exhaustion, and then, it seems like his heart has grown really weak, it's beating too slowly."

"So what? What does that mean exactly, Doctor?" I ask, feeling my mother shiver beside me as I tighten my hold around her shoulders.

"This means he will need a lot of rest, to begin with. And then, we'll have to discuss with his cardiologist, but he'll probably need a pacemaker to support his heart."

"Anything if it helps, Doctor..." my mother replies feebly. "Can we see him now?"

"Visits in IC are very restricted, but I'll let you in for a few minutes," the doctor replies with a warm voice, but his expression remains very wary. "I should warn you that he's under breathing assistance, so it might be a bit impressive," he then adds for my attention with a meaningful look. "Also, he's sedated and probably won't wake up until later tonight."

"Thank you, Doctor. We'll only be a couple of minutes," I reply with self-assurance.

The man motions for us to follow him and as we go through large double doors, we enter a long corridor full of rooms with open doors, with several patients and loud equipment. The doctor ushers into one of the last rooms and my mother almost loses it there. And so do I.

Seeing my father – the man I have always seen as a strong one – on this hospital bed, so pale and so weak, is a shock. His head has been tilted back and a thick tube has been inserted down his windpipe, attached to a machine that pumps air in and out of his lungs. His bare chest is covered with plenty of electrodes linked to another machine that watches over his heart rate, and both his arms hold IVs with various liquids running through his veins. This makes for an impressive sight as the doctor warned, and to me, it feels like my father aged several years when it's only been four months since I last saw him. He seems to have lost weight whereas he used to be so powerful... This is really a shock, but I can't afford to break down when my mother needs my support, so I lead her to his bedside, and help her to keep standing while she softly grabs his hand, sobbing lightly.

"He'll make it, Mom... You know how strong he is..." I whisper as I brush the back of my fingers on his forehead.

"Please, follow me," the doctor whispers a couple of minutes later.

I let my mother squeeze my father's hand one last time as she leans toward his ear to whisper words I can't hear, then lead her out of the room.

"Depending on his state when he wakes up," the doctor says once we have joined him in the corridor, "we'll transfer him to another unit on the same floor where he will be closely watched, but at least, you'll be able to stay with him for longer periods. I recommend that you go home now to rest a bit, and in any case, we will call you as soon as he wakes up, but don't expect anything until later tonight."

"Alright, thank you, Doctor. Please have someone call us if there's anything," I reply with determination.

"No worries, Mr. Murray, we will do so."

Thank goodness, we don't have too much problem finding a cab although it's only a ten-minute ride to my parents' home in Collingswood. Childhood memories flood my mind as we take the middle door that leads upstairs and as we enter the apartment above the restaurant. Afternoons playing there with my best friends. Happy moments with my parents.

This place is nowhere near the one I own in Chicago, but it's comfortable and it feels homey. The ground floor of this red brick building holds the restaurant, and there's a nice dwelling surface above, with a spacious living room and open kitchen and then three bedrooms. I first stop by my old bedroom to drop my duffle bag and can't help a small smile of nostalgia as I take in my surroundings. Nothing has changed here since I was 16. A poster of Philadelphia and a few more of my favorite rock bands are still hanging on the blue walls, as well as a few old pictures of Aaron, Cam and Josh. My desk is still there too, although its surface is now free of all the books and notebooks that used to cover the table.

My mother is speaking with her sister on the phone when I return to the living room, trying to explain what happened through her sobs, so I give a gentle squeeze around her shoulders before I head toward the kitchen to prepare us some tea. She is just hanging up when I get back to her with two steaming mugs and take a sit beside her at the dining table.

"Thank you, Sweetheart... Sally said she'll book flights to spend a few days here, but probably not before this weekend or early next week."

"Sounds good. I can stay for a while anyway. Now I think you should go and get some rest, Mom," I advise as she sips on her tea.

"I need to go clean up downstairs first or..."

"No, you don't need to," I interrupt her. "I'll take care of the restaurant and you get some sleep."

"I'm not sure I'll be able to sleep, Mark..."

"Give it a try at least. Even if it's only to lie down and close your eyes for a couple of hours."

"You need sleep too."

"Don't worry about me, I'll take a nap as well."

My mother still insists on going downstairs with me to check on the restaurant once we have emptied our mugs. Mrs. Smith has left a note for her, with her phone number so that mom can call her back as soon as she can, and she also asked all the customers to leave their contact details on their respective bills. My parents will only have to reach out to them to settle all accounts.

"I'll go and call Mrs. Smith and then take a nap," my mother whispers weakly after a quick tour of the main room and the kitchen. "Go get some rest too, Mark. We can clean this up in the afternoon."

"I'm fine, Mom. I just need to call the boys and I'll take care of this."

"The boys...?" she repeats curiously.

Shit! Way to keep discreet, Mark!

"Yeah, I mean... Cam, Josh and Ron... They were worried..." I stutter, feeling myself blush a bit for the first time in years.

With her eyes squinting at me and the dubious expression on her face, I can tell that she doesn't buy it. I've never called my friends the boys, even when we were kids.

"Mark Murray... You and I need to have a conversation," she replies, recovering some of her maternal authority, though it doesn't make me tremble. "And don't try to trick me with your puppy eyes, young man. Suspicion is all over your face. Remember I raised you and I know when my son's trying to hide things from me..."

She can be such a witch at times!

"Alright, we'll talk later, but go get rest for now!" I sigh, pushing her toward the staircase.

Once she has left, I first go to the small office at the back of the restaurant to prepare a note informing customers of a temporary close that I pin on the main door. This Mrs. Smith was really kind as she cleared up all the tables, so it barely takes me an hour to clean the main room. The kitchen is a different story, so I spend a good two hours trashing all the leftovers and washing the dishes and appliances. At least, it keeps me busy, avoiding to brood on my worries, but I can't help thinking about my boys.

I wanted to hear more positive news about my father before I tell my mother about Alex – since she already knows about Shannon – but there's no point waiting any longer. All I hope is that she won't freak out, but knowing her, it might actually distract her from her own worries.

Since I have been quite efficient by noon, I decide to take a break and call home. The boys should be up now, so I take a seat at one of the square tables and dial the landline.

"At freaking last!!!" Shannon exclaims angrily. "How is your father doing?"

"Come on, Shan!! Put the phone on speaker so I can hear too!" Alex protests beside him.

"Oops... Sorry, Pumpkin... Hold on, Mark..."

"Good morning, Boys," I say, glad that my voice is back to its usual depth and strength. "Did you sleep well?"

"Yes, yes..." they both reply with exasperation. "Now give us some good news!"

Unfortunately, there's not much to say, but I still recount what the doctor told us this morning, which arises more and more questions, but I try my best to reassure them on my father's state and on my mother's too. Their genuine concern goes straight to my heart, especially as they still haven't met with my parents. Well, this should be remedied very shortly as I well intend to spend Christmas here if my father's condition allows it.

"Now, how are you boys doing? Have you had breakfast?" I ask to change topics after a while.

"Yes, we did," Shannon replies with a small voice. "But we don't really feel like going to the gym or whatever, so we'll probably stay home if that's okay..."

"That's fine, Boys. Just make sure you're on time to go to work."

"Ugh... talking about that... Did you really ask Master Aaron to pick me up?" Shan grumbles.

"Oh, thanks for reminding me! Yes, I did," I reply firmly.

"But why!? I could use public transportations for once!"

"Shan, we already had that conversation," I sigh. "There are too many incidents on the bus and train lines that reach the club. Aaron's apartment is close enough to our place and it won't be a problem for him. In case he needs to be at the club earlier, I want you to take a cab."

"That's so unfair! Alex is younger and not as strong as I am, but he's allowed to walk or take the bus to go to work..." Shannon complains.

"Alex only has to go across the Loop, Shan, and it's a pretty safe street he's taking," I reason firmly. "But Alex, this is more or less the same for you. You can take the bus to go to the restaurant but get a cab at night after your shifts. Understood, Boys?

"Yes, Master..." Alex replies, but I swear I can almost hear his eyes rolling in his voice. Whatever that means.

"Shannon?" I insist.

"Kayyy..."

"I don't think I heard this well?"

"Okay, Master! I will drive with Master Aaron!"

"Good boy. Now I'll have to hang up because I need to finish cleaning up here and then take a nap before we return to the hospital."

"Will you call us back later?" they both ask in unison.

"Yes, I'll send you texts as often as I can, and we'll be able to talk when you both get back home tonight, alright?"

"Okay... We miss you, Mark..." Shannon adds after a few seconds of hesitation.

My heart constricts at the sadness in his voice. My Babe is supposed to be the strongest of the two, and somehow, however bad it may sound, I truly count on him to support Alex who is weaker. Or could I be wrong? Could Alex be stronger in such circumstances? Well, the next few days will tell me.

"I miss you too, Boys. I'll talk to you later tonight."

Once I have hung up, I remain on my chair, staring absentmindedly at my phone for a few more seconds. That's until a clearing of throat makes me startle and turn around, only to face my mother who is standing at the bottom of the staircase.

Fuck! How long has she been here? How much of my conversation did she hear?

A small smile tugs at her lips as she slowly walks in my direction and takes a seat beside me. As my eyes wander back to my phone, her wrinkled hand goes to rest over my wrist and I patiently wait for her to speak up.

"Who is Alex?" she eventually asks softly.

My mind quickly rehearses the conversation I've just had with the boys, trying to remember when I last pronounced my Baby's name, and I realize that she must have heard quite a lot in any case.

"He's my boyfriend, Mom..."

It would be absolutely useless lying to her. To be honest, I'm only craving to tell her about him and Shannon now, to tell her how much I love them both. I am craving for her to understand that they are the best men I have ever met. It's almost like seeking for her approval, but I'm kind of scared to hear her rejection or that the notion of loving two persons is foreign to her.

"Love triangle?"

Of course, she understood. Her tone is so soft that my eyes flick back to hers and I guess she can read the worry on my face as she immediately smiles at me, brushing my hand.

"I think it's time to talk, Sweetie. I'm under the impression that you've hidden a lot of things from your mama over the past years," she continues softly, though her tone is a little more teasing. "You know, Mark, I'm not a stupid owl and I can guess much more than you'd think. Are you into BDSM?"

If I had been drinking, I would have spilled out all the liquid.

If I had been eating, I would have probably choked on food.

Thank goodness, I am not doing any of these, but my heart definitely lurches in my chest as my neurons process my mother's words, my mouth gapes open and my eyes can't be far from bulging out of their sockets.

"Sweetie, forgive me for being so straightforward," she apologizes with a light chuckle. "I've been meaning to have this conversation with you for a long time now, but I didn't want to intrude your privacy, and I still don't. I'd totally understand if you'd rather keep some things secret, there are things that children don't want to discuss with their parents, however openminded and accepting said parents are. Nevertheless, I want to remind you that you can tell me anything, Sweetie... You know that your father and I will always support you, whatever your choices are..."

In this instant, the child in me resurfaces and the tears I have been holding start spilling over my cheeks as my mother grabs my hands to kiss them. In this instant, I'm just an overwhelmed mess of emotions. Yes, a mother's genuine affection can do that to the strongest Dominants, because there's barely anything more powerful than a mother's love. I swear that Paul and Sophia Murray are just the best parents I could have ever dreamed of and I suddenly wonder why I never spoke about this with my mother any sooner.

Of course, this is not the type of conversation you want to have with your parents, but without going into kinky details – which I would definitely keep to myself! – I could have roughly explained a few things to them, especially with regards to the fundamental values of the BDSM lifestyle such as guidance, respect and tolerance. Even if my relationship with Shannon and Alex goes far beyond the boundaries of BDSM, because there is love, I sincerely hope that my father will pull through... I need him to know how happy I am in my life with my two boys.

"Okay... let me just cook us something for lunch and I'll tell you, Mom..." I whisper, wiping the tears away from my face.

While I start a chicken stew with rice, my mother follows me in the kitchen and I open up to her, revealing things I had never mentioned before. It reopens old wounds of the past as things all started after Aaron ran away from his family, fleeing to California. I never failed to update my parents on his situation, but they didn't have all the details – and neither did I at the time – so I tell her how he discovered this lifestyle and bloomed into it, how Camden, Joshua and I then followed suit a few years later when we moved to Chicago.

As expected, she had already guessed that the Black Moon was hosting a private club, but I don't dwell on these specifics. Instead, I tell her more about the principles inherent to BDSM – less its kinky aspects – and I love the pride in her eyes when she fully understands what her Dominant of a son can do.

As we begin to eat, I continue with how I met Shannon, and then Alex, and how the three of us have indeed evolved into a triangular relationship. I'm glad to see her smile when I tell her how they both make me so happy and complete and I can even decipher a sparkle of curiousness and eagerness as I give her more background details on their past and their different personalities.

"I wish you'd told me all this before, Sweetie..." she sighs at some point, making me look down at my now-empty plate.

"I just didn't want to scare you and Dad..."

"Don't tell me you ever thought we might reject you..." she warns me.

I only shrug my shoulders in answer, which is a big mistake.

"Mark James Murray!" she suddenly growls – yes, my mother can growl. "Look at me, young man!"

O' so impressive...

Well, it would have worked better a dozen of years back, or maybe more, when I was a child rather easy to scare, but I have grown older and gotten stronger too. Yet, there's still this feeling of deep respect I have always had toward my parents, so I raise my head and look at her adorable angry face, containing my budding laughter. Not a difficult task when I see the pain in her eyes.

"You were not raised in the fear of being rejected by your parents. We have always supported you and I refuse to ever let you think we wouldn't! I can put up with little secrets or the fact that you need a certain level of privacy, but I won't tolerate that you keep secrets because you're afraid of being rejected by me or your father! That would never happen! Is this clear, Mark?"

"I know, Mom, and I apologize. It was stupid and I know you and Dad are the best parents ever!" I reply piteously.

"Stupid doesn't even begin to cover it..." she snorts. "Are you happy with Shannon and Alex?" she then asks more softly.

"Yes, I am. They're really great guys and I'm sure you'll love them!" I reply cheerfully, glad that the storm has left.

"Oh, I already love Shannon from all you've told me about him over the past few months, and I have no doubt I'm going to love Alex too. Poor boy... He sounds like a wonderful person too, but you'll have to tell me more about him. I can't believe you never noticed him before at your restaurant... Your father might scold you for being so attentionless with your employees! And what does he look like?"

And there she goes, rambling on and on with more and more questions. On the bright side, telling her about my boys and showing her pictures for the next two hours keeps her mind away from her current worries, and it feels so good to share my happiness with her at last. We also talk a lot about the guys and she obviously understands that the Liam I often told her about is in a similar relationship with Joshua. She just laments on the fact that Aaron and Camden are still single, but I reassure her saying that I'm certain they'll eventually find their soulmates at some point.

A bit later, I isolate myself a bit in my bedroom to make a few phone calls to the managers of my restaurants, informing them that I wouldn't be back before a few days, and then to my best friends to update them on the situation. Aaron jokes about the sulking Shannon he picked up from home, but as usual, he found the right words to reason him. And finally, I also send a text to Shan and Alex to confirm I will call them at half past midnight.

Once done, I allow myself a long and relaxing shower followed by a nap, and I am so fucking tired that I fall asleep as soon as my head hits my pillow. Sadly, it feels like seconds before my mother barges into my room and startles me awake, the phone in her hand and her cheeks wet with tears.

Published on 1 June 2016