Straightening Affairs - 20. Chapter 20

Ryan’s Redemption

The next morning, Ryan sat in a corner booth of a local coffee shop, chosen for its quiet atmosphere and lack of familiar faces. He’d arrived early, nursing his second cup of coffee and a gnawing pit of guilt. In front of him sat a box of donuts—Nate’s favorite, with sprinkles. It was a pathetic gesture, but Ryan didn’t know how else to begin mending the wreckage he’d caused.

He turned the cup in his hands, staring at the dark liquid as if it might hold answers. How did I let it get this far? Over a game. Over some twisted fantasy. He closed his eyes briefly, the weight of the last few days pressing down on him. Nate deserved better. Sarah deserved better.

The door chimed, and Ryan looked up to see Nate walking in. His heart tightened. Nate spotted him quickly, his gaze sharp as he approached.

“Ryan,” Nate said, pulling out the chair across from him. “You look like shit. Good.”

Ryan flinched but managed a weak smile. “I got you donuts. The kind with sprinkles.”

“Donuts won’t fix this,” Nate said curtly, setting his bag on the table. “Hang on. I need coffee if I’m going to get through this.”

Ryan watched as Nate walked to the counter, his demeanor cold and distant. In the past, Nate would’ve greeted him with a warm hug, a kiss, or even a playful jab. Now there was only a wall between them—a wall Ryan had built brick by brick. He rubbed his hands together, unsure if it was the cold coffee or his nerves making them shake.

When Nate returned with his coffee, he glanced at Ryan’s mug. “Your coffee’s cold. Let me grab you a fresh one.”

Ryan started to protest, but Nate was already up, returning moments later with a steaming cup and placing it in front of him.

“Here,” Nate said, his voice softer but still tinged with an edge. “Take it easy on this one. You always shake like a leaf when you’ve had too much coffee.” Despite his anger, there was still a flicker of care in Nate’s actions—a reminder of the bond they once shared. But could that bond ever be fully mended? Only time would tell.

“Thanks,” Ryan murmured, his fingers wrapping around the warmth of the cup. “Nate…” He trailed off, unable to find the right words.

Nate leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. “I heard you talking to yourself when I came back. You’re right—you can’t undo what you’ve done. But you can try to make it right. You owe Sarah. You owe yourself. And if we’re going to stop them, we need more than your confession. We need proof.”

Ryan nodded, his throat tight. “I know. I’ve been thinking about that too. Mrs. Evans… she’s so calculated. Every word, every action—it’s all part of her plan. She kept calling Sarah ‘unsuitable.’” He paused, his voice trembling. “She’s obsessed with controlling Michael. And Mr. Evans? He just sits back, letting it all happen.”

Nate leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “You said he’s quiet? People like that… they know more than they let on. Maybe he’s not just sitting back. Maybe he’s involved, pulling strings behind the scenes.”

Ryan frowned, his stomach twisting at the thought. “I always thought he was just… meek. Taking orders from her. But now? I don’t know anymore.”

Nate tapped his fingers on the table, his mind racing. “We need to find out. If he’s complicit, he’s just as guilty as she is. And we need to get solid evidence—texts, emails, anything to prove what’s going on.”

Ryan hesitated. “You think Michael’s in on it too? I mean, his mom’s manipulating him, but—”

“No. He’s guilty as hell for cheating on Sarah, but I don’t think he knows his mom or dad is behind this,” Nate said, his voice sharp and unyielding. “From what you’ve told me, he suspects someone’s playing him, but he doesn’t know who. He’s trying to figure it out, but in the meantime, he’s still playing his part in this mess. And I’m not going to let him drag Sarah or the twins down with him. The fucking asshole.”

Nate’s hands clenched into fists as he spoke, his anger barely contained. Whenever Michael’s name came up, it made Nate’s blood boil. He had once thought of Michael as an older brother—someone he could look up to, someone he admired. Now, even hearing the name made his stomach turn. He couldn’t reconcile the man he’d once respected with the one who was destroying his sister’s life.

“I trusted him,” Nate muttered, more to himself than to Ryan. “And he’s out there doing… this.”

Ryan swallowed hard, guilt clawing at him. “I’ll do whatever it takes, Nate. I’ll help. I just want to fix this.”

Nate’s gaze softened slightly, but his tone remained firm. “Good. Because this is the last chance you’ll get.”

“Now—how are we going to get proof of his mom’s involvement in all of this?” Nate asked, his frustration barely contained. “The only way I can think of is to record her conversations. Maybe go to their house and secretly record her, or wait for her to call.”

Ryan shook his head, a frown deepening on his face. “That won’t work. She’s too careful, Nate. She never says anything incriminating outright. She drops hints and makes me piece it together. If I start asking direct questions now, she’ll know something’s up.”

“Fuck,” Nate muttered, running a hand through his hair. “How the hell do we get the proof we need? There’s gotta be a way to nail her.”

Ryan hesitated before speaking, his voice quieter now. “I think I know, Nate. I have to come clean. That’s the only way.”

Nate looked at Ryan, the weight of his words settling heavily between them. He wanted to dismiss the idea outright, but something in Ryan’s voice told him he was serious. Was this really the only solution? No, there had to be another way. There had to be something else they could do. Regardless of the anger still simmering beneath the surface, Nate knew one thing for certain—he still cared for Ryan. He wasn’t ready to let him throw himself to the wolves just yet. They had to figure something out. Together.

“How do they keep control over him?” Nate’s voice was a mix of frustration and curiosity. “There has to be something. Did they know he was gay all along? Did Michael know he was gay before Sarah? And if so, why would Michael suppress it? Did they abuse him? Or maybe someone else did?” He shook his head, his thoughts spinning. “None of this adds up. Does his mom hate Sarah that much? And his dad—sure, he’s quiet, but how could he be involved? Can someone hate someone else so much?”

Nate leaned closer, his intensity growing. “Ryan, I think you need to go to their house. Chat them up, play innocent. Say you’re struggling to figure out the next step and need advice. But record everything. They’re hiding something—I can feel it—and we need to figure out what.”

Ryan hesitated, fidgeting nervously. “She doesn’t like me coming over. She prefers I call her…”

“I don’t care what she wants, Ryan,” Nate snapped. “We’re way past what she wants. We need to raise the stakes. You need to grow a pair and use them the right way, not on that piece of shit. She thinks she’s got you wrapped around her finger, but it’s time to turn the tables. Show her she’s the one in the corner. She’s controlling you because she thinks you’re weak—because you’ve let her. But here’s the joke: I know. And she has no idea what’s coming.”

“Ryan—does she have something on you? Anything you’ve never told me?” Nate demanded, his eyes narrowing as he leaned in closer.

“No,” Ryan said firmly, his voice steady despite the guilt lingering in his chest. “There’s nothing. I swear.”

Nate studied him for a moment, then leaned back with a sharp exhale. “There’s so much I want to ask, Ryan... so much I don’t understand. But that can wait. Right now, we need to stop her.”

“What’s she going to do? Tell me?” Nate scoffed, his tone sharp. “Nope. Because that would unravel her entire web of scheming. She won’t risk exposing herself. But if we don’t stop her, she’ll just keep going. She’ll keep destroying lives.”

Ryan hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. “What about Michael?”

Nate’s eyes darkened. “What about him?” He shook his head, his jaw tightening. “We have to stop him too. If he wants to fuck other men, that’s his business—I don’t care. But I won’t let him make a mockery out of Sarah and what they had. What they had, Ryan. He’s ruined enough. I won’t let him ruin her or the kids any more than he already has.”

Nate’s tone was firm, unrelenting, and Ryan couldn’t help but feel a flicker of courage at his words.

Discovering Mr. Evans’ Role

The next afternoon, Ryan went to the Evans residence. He was terrified about how the afternoon would play out but he knew he had to make this right. Ryan got out of the car, and stood on the doorstep of the Evans residence, his hand hovering over the doorbell. His heart raced as he thought about what he was about to do. Every instinct screamed at him to leave, to walk away and let someone else deal with this mess. But he knew there was no one else. He had to go through with it. His hand finally pressed the button, and the chime echoed inside the house.

The door opened after what felt like an eternity. Mrs. Evans stood there, her eyes narrowing in surprise, though her composed demeanor didn’t waver.

“Ryan,” she said, her tone cool and uninviting. “What are you doing here? I told you to call, not just show up unannounced.”

Ryan cleared his throat, willing his voice to remain steady. “I needed to talk to you in person. This can’t wait.”

Without waiting for an invitation, he stepped into the house. Mrs. Evans’ sharp gaze followed him as he closed the door behind him. The air in the house felt thick, suffocating even. Ryan forced himself to stand tall, even as his stomach churned.

“We need to talk,” he said firmly. “And this time, no vague answers or cryptic remarks. I need to know everything.”

Mrs. Evans crossed her arms and tilted her head, her lips curling into a faint, mocking smile. “Everything? What makes you think you’re in any position to make demands, Ryan?”

Ryan pushed forward, ignoring the tremor in his hands. “Because I’m the one you’ve been using to pull this off. And it’s not working. Michael is on edge, and I’m running out of ways to move this forward. If you want me to keep helping you, I need to know the whole plan—what you’ve done, what hasn’t worked, and what your endgame is.”

Mrs. Evans regarded him for a long moment, her eyes narrowing further. “You’ve done what you were told, Ryan. That’s all that matters.”

“No,” Ryan shot back, his voice rising. “It’s not enough anymore. You dragged me into this, and now I’m left filling in the blanks every time Michael questions me. If I don’t have answers, he’s going to figure it out. Do you really want that?”

Ryan’s words hung in the air, the tension crackling like static electricity. Mrs. Evans’ lips tightened into a thin line, her eyes narrowing. She stepped closer, her presence almost suffocating.

“Do you want Nate to know everything?” she repeated, her voice cold and sharp like a knife. “Because I will tell him. Every sordid detail.”

Ryan swallowed hard, his throat dry. His pulse pounded in his ears, but he refused to back down. “Tell him what? That I was involved? Go ahead. I’ll tell him you set me up,” he shot back, his voice wavering but firm. “You don’t exactly have a good history with Sarah. Don’t push me, Helen.”

Mrs. Evans flinched at the use of her first name, her mask of control slipping just for a moment. “You have no idea who you’re dealing with, Ryan,” she said, her voice low and venomous. “You think you can outmaneuver me? You’re nothing more than a pawn. I could destroy you with a single word.”

Ryan leaned in slightly, his voice calm but laced with steel. “And I could destroy you just as easily, Helen. One recording, one word in the right ear, and everything you’ve built comes crashing down.” He paused, letting his words hang in the air, his eyes locked on hers. “Seems we’re in a bit of a pickle, aren’t we?”

Helen’s sharp gaze narrowed, but Ryan didn’t waver. This wasn’t the timid boy she had manipulated. This was someone who had found his footing, who had realized her power wasn’t as absolute as she wanted him to believe.

“You think you can play this game?” she hissed. “You have no idea—”

“Try me,” Ryan interrupted, his voice steady. “Because for once, Helen, you’re not the one holding all the cards. Not anymore.”

Ryan’s hands shook, but he clenched them into fists at his sides, willing himself to stay strong. He couldn’t let her see how terrified he was. “Maybe I am a pawn,” he admitted, his voice steadier now. “But I’m not your pawn anymore. I’ve had enough of your games, and I’m done being your puppet.”

He could feel it. The tables were turning, he had her in the corner and he knew that.

For a moment, Mrs. Evans said nothing, her cold eyes boring into his. Then, a slow, icy smile spread across her face. “We’ll see about that,” she said, her tone dripping with menace.

Ryan’s heart hammered in his chest, but he held her gaze. This wasn’t part of the plan, and he felt like he was standing on a tightrope about to snap. Still, for the first time, he felt a flicker of something unfamiliar—courage, and confidence.

It was something he had lost along the way. He was never one to back down, but the constant barrage from Helen had worn him down, chipping away at his resolve piece by piece. Yet now, he felt it returning, stronger than before. Nate had given that back to him—no, he had given it back to himself by coming clean, by finally shedding the weight of his secrets. Helen didn’t have anything on him anymore.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Ryan wasn’t afraid. He wasn’t playing her game anymore—he was rewriting the rules.

Before Mrs. Evans could respond, her husband entered the room. His eyes darted between Ryan and his wife, confusion and unease written all over his face. “What’s going on here?” he asked, his voice cautious. “Helen, why is Ryan here?”

Ryan turned to him, seizing the opportunity. “Perfect timing. I was just asking your wife why she’s keeping me in the dark. You’re involved too, aren’t you? What’s your role in all of this?”

Mrs. Evans bristled. “Ryan, stop. This is none of his concern—”

Ryan cut her off, his voice sharp and demanding. “Oh, I think it is. He’s Michael’s father, isn’t he? Or is he just letting you run this whole show while he stays quiet in the background? Tell me, Mr. Evans—do you even care about what’s happening here?”

Mr. Evans looked trapped, his gaze flickering between Ryan and his wife. “I—I only did what she asked,” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper. “She said it was for Michael’s own good.”

Ryan felt a surge of triumph. “What did she ask you to do? What have you been helping her with?”

It worked! Nate was right!

Mrs. Evans stepped forward, her voice cold and commanding. “Enough. Ryan, you’re out of line. You don’t understand the bigger picture, and frankly, it’s none of your concern.”

Ryan met her glare, refusing to back down. “None of my concern? You dragged me into this mess, and now you’re acting like I don’t matter? If you want me to help break them up, you tell me everything, or I walk.”

Mrs. Evans’ expression hardened. “You wouldn’t dare.”

Ryan leaned in, his voice dropping to a low, menacing tone. “Try me. You think you’ve got me under your thumb, but I’ve got nothing left to lose and you know that. If you don’t start talking, I’ll walk out of here and tell Nate, Sarah and Michael everything. I’m prepared to lose Nate - are you prepared to lose Michael?”

For the first time, Mrs. Evans hesitated. Her calculated mask slipped, if only for a moment. Ryan could see the wheels turning in her mind as she considered her next move. Mr. Evans looked down at the floor, his silence speaking volumes.

Ryan knew he’d hit a nerve. The question now was whether they’d crack—or if he’d just made himself an even bigger target.

Fred Evans slowly lifted his gaze, locking eyes with Ryan. His expression was calm, but his words cut like glass.

“Michael deserves someone better than Sarah,” Fred said, his voice measured. “I never liked her. From the moment he brought her home, I knew she’d be trouble. Helen and I agreed—we had to split them up.”

He was the puppet master.

“Fred, stop it!” Helen snapped, her voice laced with panic. “What are you doing?”

“Enough, Helen,” Fred said sharply. “He wants the truth? Let him hear it.”

Ryan stood there frozen, the weight of Fred’s words crashing down on him like a tidal wave. The calm, timid demeanor Fred had always shown was nothing but a carefully constructed facade, designed to keep him out of the spotlight—a subtle yet effective way to continue manipulating Michael.

“Yes, Michael is gay. We’ve known for a long time,” Fred continued. “But he suppressed those feelings, and we were fine with that. We thought he’d find a nice girl, settle down, and keep everything simple. But then Sarah came along.”

Fred’s expression darkened. “And when you showed up, Ryan, we saw our opportunity. It didn’t take much for Michael to crack. We knew exactly how to push the right buttons.”

“Fred, stop! You’re going too far!” Helen protested, her voice trembling.

“No, Helen. If we want Ryan on our side, he needs to know everything,” Fred said coldly.

Ryan could barely comprehend what he was hearing. “What’s your endgame?” he finally asked, his voice shaking. “What’s the point of all this?”

Fred’s eyes glinted with malice. “To destroy Sarah. To break her. To leave her utterly devastated. I don’t care what happens to her or her bastard children. They’re nothing to me, or us.”

Ryan’s stomach churned. He had known Helen’s hatred for Sarah ran deep, but to hear Fred’s calm cruelty left him reeling.

“This is insane,” Ryan whispered. “Why would you go to these lengths? Michael’s already out. He’s not going to go back into the closet. He’s not going to marry some perfect girl and live your fantasy.”

Fred leaned back, his lips curling into a sneer. “We don’t care. As long as Sarah’s gone, he’ll come back to us. Back to the support we’ve always given him. Back to the life we’ve built for him. And once he’s back, he’ll stay. He’ll realize how that cheap bitch ruined his life and how we saved him from her. He’ll be too scared to try something reckless again.”

Ryan’s hands shook. This wasn’t just manipulation—it was unadulterated evil. He couldn’t believe the lengths they were willing to go. If he hadn’t recorded this, no one would believe it.

“This doesn’t make any sense,” Ryan said, his voice almost pleading.

“What doesn’t make sense?” Helen interjected, her voice icy. “He’s our son. He’ll always be our son. Nobody loves him like we do, especially not Sarah.”

“But… what do you gain?” Ryan asked, his voice tinged with confusion. “He’s not rich or powerful. None of this makes sense.”

Fred leaned back, a cold, calculating expression settling on his face. “No, he’s not. But he’s our son, Ryan. And only we know what’s best for him. Not Sarah, not anyone else. Just us.”

“But you wouldn’t understand,” Fred said, his tone cold and dismissive. “It’s not like you’ll ever become a parent. You’re a faggot.”

Fred’s words struck sharp, slicing through Ryan like a blade. For the first time, the haze of manipulation and fear began to lift. He could see them clearly now—Fred and Helen weren’t just controlling; they were evil. They didn’t care about Michael’s happiness, Sarah’s well-being, or even the twins. They only cared about maintaining their grip on their son, no matter the cost.

"What happens to me?" Ryan asked, his voice trembling but steady. "Will I get a life with Michael, or will you just find a way to get rid of me?"

Fred and Helen exchanged a glance, their expressions unreadable.

Fred leaned forward slightly, his voice calm and calculating. "You're doing what we want now, aren't you? That's all we care about. You can have Michael, but only as long as you keep doing what we tell you to do."

Helen's lips curled into a faint, icy smile as Fred continued. "Besides, once we have Michael back under our roof, we’ll shape him into what he should have been all along. Someone who listens. Someone who obeys. You’ll play your part—or you’ll regret it."

Ryan’s chest tightened as the realization settled in. They don’t care about anyone. Least of all me. All this time, he had thought he was part of their plan, a necessary piece on their chessboard. But now he understood—he wasn’t a partner in this scheme. He was disposable, just another pawn they would sacrifice the moment it suited them.

He clenched his fists behind his back, his mind racing. I have to get out of this. I have to stop them.

“So what’s next?” Ryan asked, his voice barely steady. “Now that I know the full story—what do we do?”

“For now? Nothing,” Fred replied, leaning back with a smug expression. “Sit tight. I’ve been dropping money into Michael’s account for years. Has he told Sarah about it? Probably not. He’s been using that money… for, well, things.”

Ryan frowned, confused. “Things?”

Fred smirked. “Come on, Ryan. You’re a bright kid. You know exactly what I mean.”

And Ryan did. The realization hit him like a punch to the gut. The money was another form of control—a lifeline Fred had dangled in front of Michael for years. Sarah had no idea. But how far back did this go? And to what end?

“That doesn’t make any sense,” Ryan said, shaking his head. “Michael has money—why would he need yours?”

Fred chuckled, his tone patronizing. “How do you think he made it through school? That silly part-time job? Sarah was too sick to work, and Michael was drowning. So he came to me—not to Helen, mind you—just me, and asked for help. Told me not to tell his mother. What could a loving father do?” Fred’s grin widened, and Ryan felt his stomach churn. “So I started putting money into his account every month. Not a lot, just enough to keep him afloat. Enough to keep him obligated to me.”

Ryan’s jaw tightened. He could hardly believe what he was hearing.

“And then,” Fred continued, his voice growing more smug, “after he got his fancy new job, he told me he didn’t need the money anymore. But I kept depositing it anyway. I noticed he started using it again. That’s when I knew I had him.”

“You had him?” Ryan repeated, incredulous. “That’s your son.”

Fred’s expression hardened. “And that’s why I’ve always had his best interests in mind. I don’t care if he hates me or loves me. What matters is that he stays in line. That he lives the life I’ve laid out for him.”

Ryan couldn’t hide the disgust on his face, but he knew he had to. Fred had meticulously crafted a web of control around Michael, all under the guise of being a supportive father. It wasn’t love—it was leverage. And the more Ryan listened, the more he realized how deeply Michael was ensnared.

Fred leaned forward, his eyes narrowing. “Now, you know your role in this, don’t you, Ryan? You’re part of this plan, whether you like it or not. So don’t mess it up.”

Ryan swallowed hard, forcing himself not to flinch under Fred’s calculating gaze. “Got it,” he said weakly, but inside, he was screaming.

Fred smiled, satisfied. “Good. Now go. And remember, Ryan, stay quiet. We wouldn’t want Sarah—or Michael—to hear the wrong things, now would we?”

For the entire conversation, Mrs. Evans remained quiet, her lips pressed into a thin, unreadable line. Perhaps Mrs. Evans wasn’t the mastermind behind everything after all. But that didn’t matter. She was the one who had been pushing Ryan, manipulating him at every turn, ensuring he stayed under her thumb. They were both involved—Fred and Helen, partners in this cruel scheme.

Nate had been right all along. Fred wasn’t just a silent bystander; he was complicit. Ryan’s stomach churned as he thought of how deep this deception ran and how they had used Michael like a puppet, Sarah as collateral damage, and him, Ryan, as a tool for their twisted control.

As Ryan left the house and climbed into his car, his hands trembled as he reached for his phone. He quickly checked the audio file—it was all there. Every single word. Relief washed over him, mingled with the lingering adrenaline coursing through his veins. He knew he had them.

Despite Nate’s insistence on keeping him out of it, Ryan understood there was no way around his involvement. He knew the cost would be high—he might, no he would lose Nate, Sarah, and everyone else who mattered. Maybe even his own mother. But what choice did he have? He’d hurt them all, shattered their trust, but at least he could finally be free of the guilt that had consumed him. Maybe, just maybe, in time, Sarah might forgive him. Perhaps even Nate.

But those were distant possibilities. For now, there was only one thing left to do. He clenched the phone in his hand, took a deep breath, and stared at the road ahead. He knew the path he had to take.