"That's interesting", says Carl. Francois is silent.
"Aside from rather a flop of matrimonial relations with my wife, he is the only sexual partner I've ever had. After the third time, he followed me home. He had been sleeping in a tent in the gay section of the beach, in between tree planting contracts on Vancouver Island. Dad was away for a few days on retreat, but I wouldn't let Chuck sleep with me. He slept in the den on the hideabed, then the next morning, after giving him breakfast, he went away. I never saw or heard from him again. Curiously, he did apologize for taking advantage of my vulnerability, as he called it. And he was right about that. Even if I did sin by consenting, I felt lured into his trap with him, and very much taken over by him. I never said anything to Dad about it, nor that I had entertained a house guest in his absence That's always stood as a bit of a wedge between us, I'm afraid.
"That you had to keep that secret from him," says Carl.
"That, without my father's consent or knowledge that I allowed some random stranger I'd had sex with to sleep in his house without his knowledge or consent." And now, for the first time ever in life, I am undergoing contrition and repentance, and tears are streaming down my face. Francois is still silent...
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