Chapter 77 Chapter Seventy-Three
Omniscient Narrative
It’s been a couple of minutes and his room felt different after his siblings left, they wanted to give him some space and Demi was happy with that.
His sisters had hugged him one last time before standing.
"We're downstairs," his oldest sister said softly, brushing her thumb under his eye as if trying to wipe away the eye bags that were heavily placed there. "Take all the time you need."
His brothers nodded, lingering a moment longer than necessary, like they were reluctant to leave him, but they had to, Demi needed the space.
Then the door closed behind them, and Demi was alone again, curled on his bed, his shirt sleeves damp with tears, chest aching in that dull, exhausted way that came after crying too hard for too long.
He stared at the door.
He knew who would come next.
It still terrified him.
The knock was soft. Almost hesitant.
"Demi?" his mother's voice called gently. "Can we come in?"
His throat tightened.
"Yeah," he managed.
The door opened slowly.
His parents stood there together, framed by the hallway light.
His mother's eyes were red, her face drawn with worry.
His father's posture was stiff in that way it got when he was trying very hard to stay calm, for someone else's sake.
They didn't rush him.
They didn't ask questions right away.
They crossed the room quietly and sat on either side of him on the bed, close but not crowding, like they were reminding him without words that he wasn't alone.
His mom reached for his hand first.
"You scared us there my love," she said softly.
Demi swallowed. "I'm sorry."
His father shook his head. "Don't apologize for anything Demilade, whatever happened wasn’t your fault."
That nearly undid him all over again.
His mom squeezed his fingers gently. "Your siblings told us not to disturb you, but we can’t just pretend that didn’t happen, you looked hurt there and you look way worse now"
Demi gave a weak, humorless huff. "I don’t even know what had happened, everything just-" he couldn’t bring himself to talk
Silence settled between them, not awkward, just waiting, they were trying their best to be patient with him, they wanted him to talk to them at his own pace even if it killed them to wait.
His father spoke first. "Your mom told me you and Alex had a fight, I had gone in to answer a phone call, I came back outside and saw everywhere was tense and your mom said you guys had a serious fight."
Demi's chest tightened at the name, but he nodded.
"We don't need details," his father continued quickly. "Well, not unless you want to share them. But I do want you to hear this, I want to know what had happened between you too."
Demi looked up slowly, not answering, his heart tightened as he thought back to the fight.
"Friendships," his father said carefully, "especially the ones that matter most, can hurt worse than anything else. Because they don't just touch your life, they live inside it."
Demi's eyes burned, because this wasn’t about any ‘friendship’ it was more than that, and it hurts him to even think that.
"Sometimes," his father went on, "people say things they don't mean because they don't know how to say the things they're afraid to admit."
His mom nodded. "That doesn't excuse it," she added gently. "But it does explain why it hurts so deeply."
Demi stared at his hands, heart pounding.
He hadn't planned to tell them.
He'd already told so much tonight. He felt raw, scraped down to the bone, every protective layer stripped away.
But sitting between them, between the people who had raised him, who had loved him his entire life, something inside him shifted.
He was tired of hiding.
"I need to tell you two something," Demi whispered, his heart racing as he thought of the many outcome from what he was about to say.
Both his parents went still.
His mother's grip tightened slightly, her eyes softening as she looked at her clearly troubled son "Okay."
Demi's breath shook. "I'm scared."
His father leaned closer. "Of us?"
"Yes."
The word barely made it out.
His mother's face crumpled instantly. "Oh, my baby."
"I'm gay," Demi said, he wanted it out and there. If they were going to disown him, then they should do it fast.
The words hung in the air, fragile, trembling, exposed.
He waited for the world to tilt.
For disappointment.
“We’re so disappointed in you Demilade” “you’re no son of ours” “this is what we get for bringing you to this country?” “You’re going back to Nigeria” “you’re no son of ours”
For confusion.
“I don’t understand what you’re saying Demilade” “did we hear you well” “Demilade are you okay?” “Did the devil get to you”
For silence sharp enough to cut.
Instead-
His father stood up abruptly and pulled Demi into his chest.
No hesitation.
No pause.
Just arms wrapping around him tightly, solid and warm and real.
Demi broke down.
A sob tore out of him so violently it felt like it came from somewhere deeper than his lungs.
He clutched at his father's shirt, fingers curling desperately into the fabric as tears spilled freely, unchecked.
"I was so scared," Demi choked. "I didn't want you to hate me."
His father's voice broke as he spoke into Demi's hair. "Hate you? Demilade we can never hate you. Not for a second. Not for this. Not for anything."
His mother joined them, arms wrapping around both of them, one hand rubbing slow, soothing circles into Demi's back.
"We love you," she said firmly. "Nothing about this changes anything Demilade."
Demi cried harder, shoulders shaking as years of fear poured out of him all at once.
"I didn't want to lose you," he sobbed.
His father held him tighter. "You could never lose us by being yourself."
His mother kissed the side of his head, tears streaming down her face too. "I've always known you had a beautiful heart," she said softly. "And honestly?"
Demi sniffed, pulling back slightly. "What?"
She smiled through tears. "I suspected."
He stared at her, stunned. "Yo-You- what?"
She laughed quietly. "Mothers know. We always do."
A shaky, broken laugh escaped Demi's throat before dissolving back into tears.
“You were always so stiff whenever we watched TV and a gay couple appears, and you would always look at Chris’s parents with admiration whenever we all hung out, I see them even when you think I don’t, I had come to terms with my son being gay and it doesn’t change anything I feel for you, you’re still my baby okay?” She added, Demi hugged her tightly and she kissed his head multiple times, hugging her son back just as hard.
His father cleared his throat, voice thick. "There's something I've never told you."
Demi froze.
His parents exchanged a glance, something old and heavy passing silently between them.
"I had an older brother," his father said quietly. "Before you were born. Before I even met your mom."
Demi's heart stuttered. "Had?"
"He's still alive," his father said. "But my parents disowned him”
“Why did they dis- why did they disown him” Demi had a feeling he knew why, he didn’t know why he asked but he knew why.
“Because he’s gay, they disowned him because he came out to them” his father said, he sounded so vulnerable, so sad, as if he was reliving that moment.
Demi sucked in a breath.
"I never told you," his father continued, jaw tightening, "because it was painful. Because I was angry. Because I didn’t want you to have a dislike for your grandparents before you formed an opinion on them. And because I promised myself something that day."
He cupped Demi's face gently, forcing him to meet his eyes.
"I promised I would never be like them. I promised I would love my children for exactly who they are, without conditions."
Demi sobbed again, collapsing back into his father's chest.
"You are not a burden to us," his father said fiercely.
"You are not a mistake," his mother echoed.
"You are ours, our baby boy," they said together.
And for the first time that night, maybe for the first time ever, Demi believed it fully.