Sunday, 18th January 2015

Jack hesitated in the hallway, exhaling slowly before pushing open the sitting room door. Millie was sprawled out on the couch, wrapped in blankets, scrolling through her phone. It had now been over a month since the two had properly acknowledged each other. Jack considered just nodding and heading straight to his room, but before he could, she looked up.

'Hey,' she said. Not cold, not warm. Just neutral.

Jack shifted on his feet. 'Hi. Wanna talk?'

A pause.

Millie tilted her head, sitting up slightly. 'Sure.'

She scooted over, making room, and he sank onto the couch beside her, elbows resting on his knees.

'How are you?' he asked.

'Good, you?'

Jack swallowed. He had spent weeks avoiding this conversation, but after everything that had happened—his argument with his mother, the old woman he met while canvassing, the realisation that he couldn't keep doing his mother's bidding—he owed Millie this.

'Look,' he started, rubbing his palms together. 'I'm sorry for what happened, Millie. I shouldn't have shouted at you, I just—' He sighed. 'I felt backed into a corner, and I didn't handle it well.'

'No, Jack.' She shook her head firmly. 'I'm sorry. I was completely out of order. I should never have said what I said. Gay, straight, bi, whatever—it's none of my business, and it wasn't my place to throw that at you.'

Jack nodded, letting her words settle. He had been so angry that night, but now, sitting here, he could see what she had been trying to do.

She sighed. 'I was having a shite day, and when I saw that photo of you with the No campaigners, it just—' She exhaled, shaking her head. 'It pushed me over the edge. But that's not an excuse. I shouldn't have shouted at you.'

'I get why you were mad, though.' Jack ran a hand over his jaw, hesitating before continuing. 'This referendum affects your life so much. And... maybe mine too.' Millie's gaze sharpened.

He stared at the coffee table, his pulse picking up. He could hear his mother's voice in his head, could see the old woman's kind eyes, could feel the weight of everything he had been suppressing.

He took a breath.

'I don't know what I am,' he admitted, voice quiet but steady. 'But I'm not straight. So it affects me too.' A beat of silence. 'And I'm sick of letting my mam dictate my life.'

Jack braced himself for something—he wasn't even sure what—but then Millie just smiled, soft and understanding.

'Yeah,' she said simply. Then, without hesitation, she wrapped her arms around him, pressing a quick kiss to the top of his head. Jack stiffened at first, unused to this kind of affection, but then he let himself relax into it. 'Well,' she murmured, squeezing his shoulder, 'whatever you are, you can talk to me about it. Whenever you need to.'

Jack nodded against her. 'Thanks, Millie.'

She pulled back, settling against the cushions. 'I know how confusing it is. Growing up in the country, I had nobody like me anywhere. No representation. No role models. Gay women just weren't talked about, period. So I get it. It's a weird and confusing journey, but it's your journey.'

Jack swallowed the lump in his throat, nodding. 'Yeah.'

She reached for her phone, then hesitated. 'I won't say anything to Ciarán, by the way. I swear.'

Jack let out a breathy chuckle. 'Yeah, don't. He'd never let me hear the end of it. I'll talk to him when I'm ready.'

Millie grinned. 'Oh, absolutely not.' Then her face softened again. 'But seriously, Jack. I'm proud of you. I know how hard it is to say that out loud.'

Jack exhaled, a strange mix of relief and fear bubbling inside him. 'Yeah,' he muttered. 'Me too.'