Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
Straightening Affairs - 7. Chapter 7
Deciding he had to do something, Michael went back to the student loan office. He explained his situation to the loan officer, telling him about the distance between school, work, and his parents' house, as well as Sarah’s delicate condition. He asked if there was any way to qualify for rent assistance.
The loan officer, a middle-aged man with kind eyes, looked at Michael over his glasses. “I’m surprised you didn’t budget for that in your initial application,” he said, reviewing Michael’s file. “But based on your circumstances, you definitely qualify for rent assistance. We can increase your loan amount to help cover living expenses.”
Michael felt a surge of relief. That afternoon, he filled out all the necessary paperwork, and within a month, his loan was approved for a larger sum—enough to cover rent. It wasn’t going to be a glamorous place, but it would be theirs, away from the suffocating control of his mother.
He spent the next few weeks quietly searching for an apartment. It wasn’t easy. The budget was tight, and finding something near both his school and part-time job was a challenge. But eventually, he found a small one-bedroom on the third floor of an old building. It didn’t have an elevator, and it wasn’t as spacious or modern as their old apartment, but it had one essential quality: it was far away from his parents.
Using the budget he had meticulously planned, combined with his small income and whatever Sarah would earn once she was back at work, they could live comfortably—though frugally. It was a modest step forward, but it was freedom.
Michael knew the conversation with his parents was going to be difficult, especially with his mother. But for once, he didn’t care. This wasn’t just about him—it was about Sarah. It was about giving her a space where she could continue to heal, without the weight of his mother’s constant criticism and manipulation.
Before breaking the news to his parents, Michael sat down with Jennifer, Nathan, and Ryan. He told them about his plan, about the new place he had found and his intention to move out soon.
Nathan clapped Michael on the back, pride in his voice. “That’s amazing, Michael. Sarah needs this, and so do you. We’ll be there to help with the move, and with anything else you need.”
Ryan nodded in agreement. “You’ve done the right thing. We’ve got your back.”
Bolstered by their support, Michael took the next step: telling Sarah.
At first, Sarah was hesitant. She had been through so much—emotionally and mentally drained by the relentless abuse she had endured under Michael’s mother’s roof. The once confident and self-assured woman she had been before seemed like a distant memory, replaced by someone who felt small and defeated.
Michael could see the fear in her eyes as they spoke. “Are you sure we can afford it?” she asked quietly, her voice tinged with anxiety. “What if it doesn’t work out? I don’t know if I can take much more…”
Michael reached for her hand, squeezing it gently. “We can do this,” he said, his voice steady. “I’ve planned everything out. We’ll have to be careful with money, but we’ll make it work. The most important thing is getting you out of here. We need a place where you can heal without all of this… negativity.”
Sarah looked at him, her eyes searching his for reassurance. And then, finally, she nodded. “You’re right. We need to go. I can’t stay here anymore. I just want to feel safe again.”
With Sarah’s approval, Michael knew the hardest part was yet to come—telling his mother. He wasn’t sure how she would react, but he could guess. The confrontation was inevitable.
That evening, he gathered his courage and broke the news to his parents. His father barely said a word, his eyes moving back and forth between Michael and his mother, sensing the storm brewing. But his mother… she reacted exactly as Michael had feared.
“What do you mean you’re moving out? Again?” she demanded, her voice rising. “That didn’t go well the first time and after everything I’ve done for you—after all the sacrifices I’ve made for you and Sarah—this is how you repay me? By leaving?”
Michael tried to stay calm. “Mom, this isn’t about you. Sarah and I need our own space, away from—”
But before he could finish, she cut him off, her words sharp and venomous. “You’re an idiot if you think Sarah is worth all this trouble. She’s weak. She’s nothing but a broken shell of a woman, and now you’re running off to follow her like some lost puppy? She can’t even give you children—what kind of life are you going to have with her?”
That was it. Michael had heard enough.
For too long, he had let his mother’s toxic words poison everything. He had stayed silent, allowing her to chip away at Sarah, at their relationship, at his self-worth. But not anymore.
Somewhere deep inside him, a well of courage began to rise. He remembered the confidence he used to have—the self-assurance he carried in his younger years, the ability to charm and convince people. He wasn’t that scared, submissive son anymore. This time, he was going to stand up for himself and for Sarah.
“Stop,” he said, his voice firm, louder than he expected. “I’ve let you say whatever you want for too long, Mom. But I’m not going to stand here and listen to you tear Sarah down anymore. She’s been through hell, and all you’ve done is make it worse.”
His mother stood there, stunned. She had never seen this side of Michael before.
“You think Sarah’s weak? She’s stronger than you’ll ever be,” Michael continued. “She’s been fighting every day to recover, while you’ve been sitting here judging her. We’re leaving because we deserve better than this. I deserve better than this. You don’t get to control me anymore.”
Michael couldn’t believe what he was saying. He wasn't making excuses. He was telling his mom exactly how he felt, and it felt good.
His mother opened her mouth to argue, but Michael didn’t wait for her response. He turned on his heel and left the room, feeling a sense of finality wash over him. The weight of his mother’s control had been lifted, and for the first time, he felt free.
Moving day arrived with a mix of exhaustion and exhilaration. Michael and Sarah, along with Jennifer, Nathan, and Ryan, stood at the base of the apartment building, staring up at the narrow staircase that led to their new home. The building lacked an elevator, but the group was determined to make the best of it.
“Alright,” Michael said, looking at Sarah, his tone gentle. “You take it slow, okay? No rushing. Jennifer will stay with you once you’re upstairs.”
Sarah nodded, leaning on Michael briefly for support. “I’ll be fine,” she reassured him, though the strain of the stairs was evident on her pale face.
Jennifer offered a supportive arm to Sarah as they slowly climbed the stairs together, chatting quietly. Meanwhile, Michael, Nathan, and Ryan tackled the heavier boxes and furniture. The sound of grunting and the scrape of furniture echoed in the stairwell.
By the time they reached the top, Michael was sweating and slightly out of breath. He set a box down near the door and turned to Ryan, who had just carried up a large bag of Sarah’s belongings. Ryan’s shirt clung to his chest, damp with sweat, and his hair was slightly disheveled from the effort. Michael couldn’t help but notice the way the sunlight streaming through the window caught on Ryan’s toned arms as he adjusted the bag.
Michael shook his head, forcing himself to focus. He turned away quickly when Ryan glanced up, giving him a questioning look.
Inside the apartment, Sarah was already seated on the small sofa Jennifer had helped her arrange. The cozy space was coming together quickly, though boxes were still scattered around. Jennifer and Sarah worked on putting away items in the kitchen, laughing as they debated where the coffee mugs should go.
Nathan wiped his brow and leaned against the doorframe, looking over the group. “Alright, I’m heading out to grab food. What’s everyone up for? Pizza and beer sound good?”
“Make it pizza and soda for Sarah,” Michael chimed in. “But yeah, that sounds perfect.”
Ryan chuckled as he carried another box to the corner. “Pizza and beer? You know that’s practically a moving day tradition, right?”
Nathan gave him a thumbs up before heading out the door.
As Michael continued to unpack, he found himself stealing glances at Ryan whenever he had the chance. Each time, he was struck by Ryan’s easy movements and the way he seemed at ease, even in the chaos. The sheen of sweat on Ryan’s skin only made him more distracting, and Michael felt a strange tension building in his chest.
“Hey, Michael,” Ryan called, pulling Michael out of his thoughts. “Where do you want these books?”
Michael blinked, then pointed to the shelf near the window. “Uh, over there. Thanks.”
As Ryan walked past him, Michael turned his attention back to the task at hand, trying to shake off the lingering distraction. In the kitchen, Jennifer and Sarah were arranging dishes, their laughter floating into the room and easing some of the tension Michael felt. Everything seemed to be settling into place.
Sarah had regained her strength, returning to work, albeit at a slower pace. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was the joy that radiated from her. Every morning, she woke up with a smile that brightened their tiny apartment, and every evening, she greeted Michael with the same warmth when he came home from work or school. Seeing her like that, strong and happy again, was everything Michael had longed for.
Michael had thrown himself into his studies, determined to make the most of his second chance. He completed his two-year program ahead of schedule and quickly landed a job with a large consultancy. He was at the bottom of the corporate ladder, but none of that mattered. He was earning more than he ever had as an accountant, and more importantly, he loved what he was doing. Each day, he went to work excited, and each night, he came home eager to share his day with Sarah.
Sarah noticed the change in him. Michael was lighter, happier, more present than he had been in years. The weight that had once hung over them both seemed to have lifted. They spent more time together now that Michael didn’t have to juggle school and a part-time job. Evenings were spent walking to the neighborhood park, watching children play, or sitting with Sarah’s family, who visited regularly. They had made new friends, too—life was finally going the way they had always dreamed it would.
But with this newfound sense of peace, something else began to surface. Michael had more time to reflect, more quiet moments to himself, and with them came desires he had tried so hard to bury. For years, he had pushed them down, tried to convince himself that they were nothing more than fleeting thoughts. But no matter how hard he tried to suppress them, they kept bubbling back up, gnawing at him, refusing to be ignored.
Michael is standing in a dimly lit room, the air thick with tension. The only sound is the faint hum of distant music, muffled and far away. A figure approaches from the shadows—Ryan. His face is only partially visible, caught in flickering glimpses as the light dances across the room.
Ryan reaches out, and Michael feels the familiar warmth of his touch, sending a shiver through his body. They are standing close now, so close that Michael can feel Ryan's breath on his neck. Michael’s heart races as their lips meet, the kiss electric and intense, but fragmented, as if fading in and out of focus.
Michael catches flashes of Ryan’s face—the curve of his jaw, the outline of his lips, the glint of his eyes—but never the full picture. The more Michael tries to hold on to him, the more the image blurs, like sand slipping through his fingers.
The kiss deepens, but Michael pulls back, suddenly aware of the weight of the moment, his confusion rising. His eyes search Ryan’s face, desperate to see it clearly, to make sense of it all.
Questions echo in Michael’s mind, unanswered, as Ryan’s face fades into the shadows once again.
Whenever Ryan was around, Michael felt it—the difference, the pull. He had never felt this way before, not with anyone. He wasn’t like Nathan or Ryan, he told himself. He wasn’t gay. He had always loved women, loved Sarah. But the way he felt around Ryan was undeniable. His mind kept drifting back to that moment in the hospital when Ryan had put his arm around him. The warmth, the comfort… it felt good. Different. Not like when Sarah touched him. This was something else, something deeper that sent shivers down his spine every time Ryan visited.
Michael tried to push the feelings away, to bury them under the surface where they had always been. But the more he tried, the stronger they grew. His thoughts would wander back to Ryan in quiet moments—his smile, the way he carried himself, the casual touch of his hand on Michael’s shoulder. It confused and terrified him in equal measure.
He knew he should talk to someone about it. A therapist, maybe. Someone who could help him make sense of what he was feeling. But how could he? He would have to explain it to Sarah, and that was something he couldn’t bring himself to do. They didn’t keep secrets from each other. They had built their relationship on trust and openness, but this… this was something else. This was a secret he wasn’t ready to share, not even with her.
Michael sat with the knowledge that whatever he was feeling, it was real. But it was also terrifying. He loved Sarah. He loved their life together. But these feelings, the attraction to Ryan, wouldn’t go away. And the more he tried to deny them, the more they gnawed at him, begging to be acknowledged.
One evening, after another visit from Nathan and Ryan, Michael sat alone on the couch, staring at the spot where Ryan had been sitting just moments before. Sarah had gone to bed early, tired from work, and the apartment was quiet. Michael’s thoughts swirled in his mind, a chaotic mix of guilt, desire, and confusion. He ran his hands through his hair, frustrated with himself.
What is wrong with me? He thought, the same question that had plagued him for months. I’m not gay. I’m not like Ryan. But why can’t I stop thinking about him?
His mind drifted to the idea of seeing a therapist again. Maybe talking to someone would help him sort through these feelings, help him figure out what they meant. But even the thought of explaining this to a stranger made his stomach churn. What would he say? How could he even begin to unpack all of this?
And then there was Sarah. How could he ever tell her? How could he look into her eyes and admit that he was having feelings he didn’t understand, feelings for someone else—someone they both knew? It would break her. And he couldn’t do that. He wouldn’t.
But keeping this inside was eating him alive.
As the thoughts swirled, Michael made a decision. He would talk to someone. He didn’t know if it was the right choice, but he knew he couldn’t keep living like this—constantly at war with his own mind, terrified of his own emotions. He needed to make sense of it, for himself, and maybe, eventually, for Sarah.
But for now, the secret stayed buried, hidden beneath the surface where no one else could see it. And Michael would continue to smile and laugh and pretend that everything was perfect, even as the storm brewed quietly inside him.
Michael threw himself into his work with unwavering determination. His sharp mind and knack for problem-solving quickly earned him the respect of his colleagues. Late nights in the office became the norm, and he often brought work home, spreading reports and documents across the small dining table while Sarah sat beside him, offering quiet encouragement. His laptop always seemed to be on, the soft glow of the screen illuminating his face as he worked late into the night.
Inside, he knew this wasn’t just about career advancement—it was for them, for Sarah. He would not allow them to fall back into the financial uncertainty they had faced before. He refused to subject Sarah to the mental strain she had endured, her health already having been through so much. This was his way of shielding her, of giving her the stability and security she deserved.
“You’ve got this,” Sarah would say, her hand resting gently on his shoulder as she sipped her tea. “You’re unstoppable, Michael. Just think of all the doors this will open.”
Her faith in him was a source of both strength and pressure. He couldn’t fail her—not after all they’d been through together.
Her support was unwavering, even when it meant sacrifices. Michael often skipped dinner to meet deadlines or left Sarah waiting at home while he networked with senior executives. She never complained, even as the demands of his job started to encroach on their time together. She believed in him, and Michael felt the weight of her faith in him as both a motivator and a quiet pressure he didn’t dare fail.
When a critical project was on the verge of collapse due to mismanagement, Michael stepped in, streamlining processes and guiding the team to a successful outcome. His performance didn’t go unnoticed; the project earned accolades from upper management, and Michael was commended for his leadership under pressure.
As the weeks turned into months, Michael’s consistent performance set him apart. His manager called him into her office one morning, a faint smile on her face.
“Michael, I think it’s time we had a talk about your future here. The Senior Consultant position is opening up, and your name is at the top of the list.”
The news was thrilling—and terrifying. He couldn’t wait to share it with Sarah, who greeted the announcement with a radiant smile.
“I knew you’d do it,” she said, pulling him into a hug. “All those late nights, all the hard work—it’s paying off.”
The weight of Michael’s new promotion as a Senior Consultant brought a sense of accomplishment, but also new responsibilities. The pay was better, more than enough to start tackling their student loans and to recover from the financial strain of his unemployment and schooling. But with the added responsibilities came travel, and the reality of being away from Sarah more frequently ate away at him.
Before accepting the promotion, Michael sat down with Sarah to talk it over. They both knew this was a necessary step forward, one that could help them secure their future. Sarah, ever supportive, agreed that while it would mean time apart, it was a step in the right direction. With her blessing, Michael accepted the promotion, eager to take on the new challenge.
One quiet morning, Michael found himself working from home. Sarah had already left for work, and Michael was enjoying the calmness of the apartment, focused on his tasks. A short time later, there was a knock at the door. Slightly confused, he set aside his work and went to answer it.
When he opened the door, he was surprised to find Ryan standing there.
“Ryan! Hey, good to see you. Sarah’s already left for work. Where’s Nathan?”
Ryan shifted uncomfortably, avoiding eye contact. “He didn’t come,” Ryan said, his voice soft. “Actually, I came to talk to you. Can we… can we talk?”
Michael’s heart started to race. The sight of Ryan standing there stirred the feelings he had been suppressing and now they were both alone, the air between them felt thick with tension. He tried to brush it off, tried to keep things casual, but the surge of emotions threatened to overwhelm him.
“Yeah, sure. Come in,” Michael said, his voice catching in his throat. "I'm just catching up on some work. Let me get started on some coffee."
As soon as the door was closed, Ryan turned around quickly and grabbed Michael, pulling him into a kiss. It wasn’t just a fleeting moment. It was intense, filled with pent-up desire, years of suppressed emotions. Michael felt himself get hard as the kiss deepened, his mind swirling with confusion and lust. He could feel Ryan’s hands on him, the intensity growing with every second.
But suddenly, Michael pulled away, his breath ragged.
“Ryan, what the fuck! I’m not fucking gay,” Michael said, his voice panicked, even though a part of him knew that was a lie. Something he was slowly accepting.
Ryan’s eyes were calm but piercing. “Michael, you are. You know it, and so do I. You’ve been hiding your feelings, but I’ve felt it. Ever since the hospital. Every time we’ve come over to see Sarah and you. Don’t tell me you don’t feel the same way.”
Michael’s mind was racing. He wanted to deny it, to push Ryan away, but the truth was clawing its way to the surface. He couldn’t deny the attraction he felt for Ryan, the way his heart raced every time they were in the same room. It was like fighting against a current too strong to resist.
“Listen,” Ryan continued, his voice soft but insistent, “this can be our secret. I won’t tell anyone… especially not Nathan. I know what you’re feeling, Michael. You can’t deny it.”
Michael stood frozen, his body and mind at war. He wanted Ryan, but the guilt was crushing him. How could he betray Sarah like this? How could he betray Nathan? But the desire, the overwhelming desire, was so much stronger than anything he had ever felt before.
“Nobody is boning anyone,” Michael muttered, trying to regain control. “You should leave.”
Ryan took a step closer, his eyes locked onto Michael’s. “Michael, admit it. If not to me, then to yourself. I don’t care if you’re gay or bi or whatever. I just know you’re attracted to me. And I’m attracted to you. Stop fighting it.”
Michael felt the ground beneath him give way. The pull he had fought so hard to resist was now undeniable. His defenses were crumbling, and the truth was rising to the surface.
“Ryan…” Michael started, his voice trembling.
“I know, Michael. I’ve been where you are. When I first came out, it was hard for me too. I get it. But I’ve learned to accept it, and you need to accept it too. I’m not here to break you and Sarah up. Maybe I’m being selfish, but I think you need this. I think we need this.”
Michael’s mind flashed to Nathan, to the friendship they had built, and to the betrayal this would be. But Ryan’s words kept echoing in his head, pushing aside the guilt and hesitation.
"But Nathan..." said Michael.
“I don’t want to think about Nathan right now,” Ryan whispered, stepping even closer. “I just want to think about us. You and me. Right here, right now.”
And before Michael could stop himself, he gave in.
Ryan made another move, and this time, Michael didn’t resist. He let his guard down completely, and as Ryan’s lips met his, Michael felt a flood of emotion wash over him. His hands began to explore Ryan’s body, soft and delicate, and soon they found themselves in the bedroom—the bedroom he shared with Sarah.
Guilt clawed at the edges of Michael’s mind, but he couldn’t stop. He didn’t want to stop. For so long, he had suppressed these feelings, but now, he was letting them out, giving in to the desire that had haunted him.
As they tumbled into bed, the weight of what he was about to do lingered, but he pushed it down, focusing on the moment, on Ryan’s touch. And for that brief time, nothing else mattered.
Ryan removed his clothes and stood there naked, he continued to kiss Michael and slowly undress him. Soon, they were both naked exploring each other bodies with a hunger that could not be satisfied.
Ryan started to kiss Michaels neck, and slowly moved down his body. Michael knew this was wrong, but he needed it so badly. They moved to the bed, and with Michael on the bed, Ryan slowly got on top of him and helped Michael. This was the first time he was with a man. He was nervous, but excited. He wanted this. As he looked at Ryan, all he could see was how handsome he was. He didn’t think about Sarah. He didn’t think about Nathan. At this moment, it was only him and Ryan.
When Ryan left the apartment, it was in silence. The door closed softly behind him, leaving Michael alone in the aftermath of what they had done. The apartment was eerily quiet, the weight of the moment pressing down on him like a heavy blanket. Michael stood there, frozen, unsure of what to do, but knowing one thing for certain—he had to clean up. He had to remove all traces of Ryan, all evidence of what had just transpired. From the bedroom. From the sheets. From the apartment. And, somehow, from his heart.
The panic set in. He moved mechanically, ripping the sheets off the bed, tossing them into the laundry basket as if erasing the act itself. The scent of Ryan lingered faintly in the air, mingling with the feeling of guilt that now washed over him. How could he betray Sarah like this? How had he let his desires take control of him so completely?
As he scrubbed the bed, wiped down surfaces, and tried to erase any physical reminder of Ryan, the weight of what had happened hung heavy in his chest. His hands trembled as he straightened the pillows, fluffed them, then smoothed them over again, as if hiding the evidence from himself would somehow erase it from his conscience.
But no matter how much he cleaned, it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t wash away the truth. He couldn’t wash away what he had done.
Michael stripped off his clothes and headed for the shower, as if somehow the hot water and soap could cleanse not just his body but the guilt that had seeped into his bones. He stood under the stream, the water beating down on him, his fingers rubbing harshly over his skin as if trying to scrub away something invisible, something deeper.
Maybe I can wash it away, he thought. Maybe I can wash away the guilt, the confusion, the feelings.
But the harder he scrubbed, the more futile it felt. The water cascaded down, but it couldn’t cleanse the thoughts in his mind.
Because despite the overwhelming guilt, there was also something else. Relief. He felt liberated, like a part of him had finally been unlocked, released from the prison where he had kept it hidden for so long. He couldn’t deny that it had felt good to be with Ryan, to touch him, to be touched by him. Michael closed his eyes, and the memory of Ryan’s body on top of his flashed in his mind—the tenderness of his touch, the warmth of his skin, the electric thrill of every kiss on his neck and chest. It had been intense. Intimate. Liberating in a way he had never known.
And the thought of it made him smile.
But as quickly as that smile appeared, it disappeared, replaced by a wave of disgust. He couldn’t believe he was smiling after what he had done. He had betrayed Sarah. The woman who had stood by him through everything. The woman who loved him unconditionally. How could he feel good about this?
His mind was at war with itself. One part of him relished the experience, the release of years of suppressed desire. But the other part—the part tied to Sarah, to the life they had built together—was drowning in guilt and shame. He had violated her trust, desecrated their shared space. He had betrayed her in the most intimate way possible, and the weight of that realization was almost too much to bear.
Michael stood in the shower for what felt like an eternity, the water now turning cold as it flowed over his skin. He didn’t want to get out. He didn’t want to face the reality of what he had done. But he knew he couldn’t stay in the shower forever.
Finally, he turned off the water and stepped out, drying himself off mechanically, his thoughts still swirling in a chaotic mess. He dressed quickly, pulling on clean clothes, but no matter what he did, he couldn’t shake the heaviness that clung to him. He had crossed a line—a line he couldn’t uncross.
He moved back into the bedroom and sat on the freshly made bed, staring blankly at the wall. What was he going to do now? How could he face Sarah when she came home? How could he look her in the eye, knowing what he had done, knowing that part of him wanted to do it again?
The guilt churned inside him, battling with the memory of the pleasure he had felt. He didn’t know how to reconcile these two opposing forces—his love for Sarah and the undeniable attraction he felt for Ryan. He didn’t even know what to call it. Was he gay? Was he bi? Did it even matter? All he knew was that something inside him had shifted, and there was no going back.
As he sat there, the full weight of his actions settled on him like a crushing load. He had betrayed the person who had trusted him most, and he didn’t know how to make it right. He didn’t even know if he could make it right.
For the first time in a long time, Michael felt utterly lost. He had always prided himself on having control, on knowing who he was and what he wanted. But now… now he didn’t know who he was anymore. And that scared him more than anything.
What was he supposed to do now?
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Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you.
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