“What ?"

“I love women. I love Sam. She is my friend and she does not love me in the same way I love her, but I love Sam. I love her more than Matty.

I'm gay. I'm lesbian. I'm homosexual. This is who I am."

Shock ran freely across her mom's face. The older woman gawked at us with a gaping mouth, looking back and forth between her daughter and me. A moment later, she gestured at us vehemently with both hands, barking, "You are NOT homosexual! Homosexual does not have sex with man!"

“This is what -I- said," Zofi's dad chimed in.

"I don't want to marry Matty. I don't ever want to marry a man, period.

And I don't ever want to have sex with another man besides Matty," Zofi stated quite seriously. "I'm sorry. I did try to deceive you. In the beginning, I did ask Matty to pretend to be my boyfriend to get you off my back."

“So he is NOT real boyfriend!”

“He IS," Zofi insisted. "That was just in the beginning, but our relationship grew into so much more. I do enjoy making Love with him because I Love HIM. He has been my partner and my friend in discovering who I really AM. And when the time comes, I told him I would ask his help for me to give you those grandchildren you want. But I'm a lesbian, Mama. When I close my eyes and imagine my family, I imagine another woman next to me. When I fantasize about endless physical pleasure, I don't fantasize about dicks. I fantasize about other girls, about their supple curves and soft, feminine touch. Matty gives me pleasure, but he's the only boyfriend I will ever have. I love women, and someday I intend to marry one."

Zofi's mom closed her eyes and held up a finger. "Get out."

"Zuzanna!" her dad exclaimed in surprise, and my jaw dropped, but Zofi didn't make a sound.

Instead, Zofi simply closed her eyes and took a deep breath, as if expecting this outcome. If anything, she Looked rather relieved. The truth was out there. She didn't have to hold it inside. She didn't even have to hide behind a shield of being bisexual, even though at least from my perspective it certainly seemed more accurate than her being a complete lesbian.

But even if she continued to have sex with me, “being lesbian" was how

Zofi felt deep inside. To finally have that state of being on the outside obviously meant everything to her, and I reached out with both arms and hugged her fiercely to my chest with her head tucked into the crook of my neck.

"Get out," her mom repeated, voice cold as ice.

“I do not want this sinful... slut... in my house.”

Only then did the tears start. Zofi broke down in quick shudders while

I wrapped my arms around her head and glared at Mrs. Zelazowska.

“With all due respect, ma'am... You do NOT get to call your daughter a slut.”

“It is none of your business!" she shot back.

“She's the future mother of my children, which absolutely makes Zofi's happiness my business."

“What is this fairy tale you speak? If she is lesbian, then you do not have real relationship. If she wants children, would you marry her?

Would she be your one and only?"

I sighed. "No, I wouldn't marry her."

“A-HA!" She shook her fist in my face.