Chapter 43

Brushing my teeth was a lot more satisfying than my shower. I knew the water pressure wouldn’t be strong enough to clear the dirt from my scalp. I miss the showers from that gym I had a membership at when I first moved to Sky Ridge. I stand in front of the mirror in my tiny bathroom, combing my fingers through the gritty strands trapped with filth. Everything feels sandy and wet. Not at all clean the way I wanted to feel when I got out of the shower. I try a hairbrush, but all it does is transfer the dirt. I slam it down on the sink.

“Goddamn it!” I shout.

Closing my eyes, I take four slow, deep breaths.

“Scottie?” Jonathan lightly raps on the door.

“I’m fine!” I bark. I bow my head before staring back at my reflection. “Sorry… I’m fine. I just need a minute. It’s been a weird four days.”

Abandoning my hair, I put on a fresh pair of underwear, jeans, and a T-shirt. At least my clothes are clean.

Jonathan is sitting in the busted kitchen chair when I exit the bathroom. One of his arms rests on the small table. We observe each other, but it’s unfamiliar. We haven’t spoken in roughly two months, and now he’s here, in my new life.

“So. How have you been?” I ask.

“Been better.”

I sit across from him in the other seat. None of these things are surprising to me, as I saw the writing on the walls years ago, but it took me a long time to gain the courage and earn enough money to leave. If only he’d come with me, we could be going through this journey together.

“How are your parents? I miss your mom’s fried chicken.” I give a half-hearted laugh. “I still can’t believe she gave me the recipe, one of these days I’m going to master it.” This week, I’m buying a full load of groceries, including produce and protein.

“You’re the only one she gave the recipe to.” He chuckles, then sobers. “She misses you… feels like she’s lost a daughter.”

I swallow, looking down at my hands. I miss her too. Jonathan had a kind family. They never knew how our marriage was. “Feels like I lost a mother too.”

“She wants you to come home.”

With a tight smile, I fuss with the loose thread on the hem of my shirt. He knows I can’t do that. “We both know that’s not my home anymore.”

“Maybe it is.”

My eyes plead with his. “Jonathan…”

“You have to come home, Scottie.”

I shake my head and point down. “This is my home.”

He stands from his chair, opening his arms and spinning in a circle. “You say this is a home?! You hardly have any food, you’re sleeping on the floor, your walls are literally crumbling! I was the only one who discovered you were missing. You have no one here!”

My bottom lip trembles as tears burn the back of my eyes. “Maybe. But I’d bet every last cent I have that I’m happier in this deteriorating apartment than you’ll ever be in The Fold. ”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sucks in a breath. I exhale, releasing my nerves. It occurs to me that I haven’t asked him how he even found me to begin with.

I narrow my gaze. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. The council did.”

“What?” The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

He sighs. “I’m here to bring you home. To The Fold, where you belong.”

I wish he’d stop calling it home. Home is where you feel safe and secure. Home is with Callahan. “I don’t want to go back to Arkansas.”

“You made a vow to me,” he argues.

“It’s been weeks. We’re separated. Do you remember our promise to let the other one go? What about that?”

“Scottie, they know!”

My lids shoot open. “What are you talking about?” This is a nightmare coming true. They always assumed that our marriage “fixed” him. If they realize he’s still gay, he’s not safe. I lower back into my chair and fix my eyes on a dent in the linoleum floor.

“They questioned me after you left, it was awful.”

“Why did you even tell them?—”

“Don’t! You left me , remember? You have no idea what it’s been like since you left.”

I shake my head. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. You’re right, I don’t know what you’ve been going through.”

“I’ve been going through hell—all alone. You left me no way to contact you! I understand you’re trying something new, but you need to come back now. They’re going to expose everything if you don’t return. You know what that means for me.”

Any color in my face quickly melts away as I imagine what could happen to him. I don’t want to go back there. I worked too hard. But Jonathan is facing a worse fate. It was my decision to leave, but he’s being punished for it. I always said I’d protect him. My presence was his only shield, and I took it with me when I left.

“My career, my family, my medical license, our home.” His voice breaks. “My life will be over.”

But mine has just begun . A hard lump forms in my throat. He sits across from me, but my glare is stuck to the floor while he goes on.

“I promise, it’s not forever, okay?” I wish myself back in the fire tower with Callahan. I wish he was with me right now. I’d rather digest the news with him nearby. Jonathan continues, “I swear, I’ll get on board, but if we leave, we have to do it right… Let’s just go back, lay low until this all dies down. I told them you would come back with me, and that we’d work harder this time.”

I meet his gaze, but it feels like I'm looking through him.

“I mean, did you really think you could just sneak away in the middle of the night without tying up any loose ends? It’s not that easy.”

Why does everyone think what I did was easy? Did he think me leaving him was easy? Being homeless was easy? Hell, I’m still clawing my way out.

I had plans for my future. Plans for Callahan, plans for my career, plans for exploring the Pacific Northwest, I even had plans for that fucking house on Spencer Avenue. Sure, some were more far-fetched, but others were so close I could hold them—I held those plans for four nights, but now they’re slipping through my fingers.

“Luke 15:3-4,” he says.

Angry blood surges through my veins at his mention of the scripture. I raise my chin to meet his sympathetic eyes. My throat burns, and I swallow down the bile. I want to scream, berate Jonathan for not leaving, for being such a coward.

What man of you, having a hundred sheep, if he loses one of them, does not leave the ninety-nine in the wilderness, and go after the one which is lost until he finds it?

“The Fold doesn't represent the word of God,” I spit.

He stares at me blankly.

Swollen tears blur my vision. “And how will you rejoice when you return with their lost sheep?”

“I won’t rejoice in this.”

After a few breaths, I settle some of the fury inside. I have to remember this isn’t Jonathan’s fault. This is The Fold’s doing. He’s been facing a persecution I’ve never known. In the end, he needs protection more than I do, and I couldn’t live with myself if I was responsible for something happening to him.

“Why can’t you just stay? Places like The Fold are considered cults by the outside world. Did you know that? People say it’s a cult .”

He rolls his eyes. “Christianity isn’t a cult, Scottie.”

“Maybe not, but The Fold is,” I argue.

“I can’t just up and leave my life like you can. Why couldn’t you just wait until we were both ready?”

“Because what if you never left!? We’ve talked about this, multiple times! You never showed an inkling toward wanting to leave. Was I supposed to just wait forever? One of us had to make the first move.”

“This time I’ll leave. I promise.”

My face falls into my hands. I’ve never despised The Fold as much as I do right now. I clear emotion from my throat. It’s not Jonathan’s fault . “You said we could just lay low until we tie up loose ends… How long?”

“A few years.”

I shake my head and scoff. “Absolutely not,” I disclaim. “One.”

“They might?—”

“One, Jonathan. And your clock starts now. One . Not a day later. ”

“Okay.” He concedes, holding up his hands in surrender. “I’m sorry, Scottie.”

My head bobs in understanding. It’s all I can do to keep from falling apart. Maybe I should have waited until we were both ready, at least then I wouldn’t know what I was giving up. “After that year, we are going to file for divorce,” I say, my voice shaking at the end.

He drops his gaze to his lap. He must have known it was coming, but that doesn’t mean it wasn’t any less painful to say aloud. A minute of silence passes between us.

“I promise, Jonathan, there is happiness beyond where we came from.” My hand covers his. “You and I both know this isn’t the life we imagined for ourselves. The Fold doesn’t get to decide who we love. The reason we didn’t work out isn’t because we didn’t pray loud enough. It wasn’t because we didn’t dedicate enough of our time to God or spread enough of the gospel. It’s because of the way we were created. And we were created perfect in His image. You are perfect the way you are, and I am perfect the way I am. But that doesn't mean we’re perfect together.”

It sickens me he was taught to hate himself from such a young age, and I stood by and watched, participated even. I thought I could help him, as if he needed it in the first place. “I am so sorry for going along with something that was damaging to you. I love you, Jonathan, and I loved having you as a partner, but we both know in our hearts this isn’t about love.”

He nods. It’s not the first time we’ve had this argument, but it’s the first time I’ve said it without him lashing out at me.

“We are two people with a broken upbringing, but that doesn’t mean we’re broken, it just means we’re not like them—and praise God for that, because that is not love.”

He sniffs. “I know. But I still don't want to lose you.”

“You could never lose me,” I promise. But after staring death in the face, I know life is too short. “But you can’t start a new life if you never walk away from the old one.”

With tears in our eyes, we regard each other, seeing ourselves independently for maybe the first time ever.

“So, in a year… we just… walk away?” He sounds so despondent.

Watching him go through the realization I experienced over a year ago brings a new kind of pain. Until recently, he was the only man I ever loved. He’s my best friend. We were all we had.

“The love we have for each other will never go away, but our love isn’t the kind made for a marriage. It’s not romantic. I’m not what you need. We aren’t enough for each other.”

He bows his head in agreement, sniffling.

“You deserve happiness, you deserve affection from a partner who can give it to you the way that I never will… We have to live the lives we were meant to live. Love the people we were meant to love.”

His lip trembles. “Callahan?” he asks.

It catches me off guard. Do I love Callahan? Yeah… I do. I love Callahan . I stare back at Jonathan, still taking in the realization.

“I saw the way you looked at him.”

My tears spill over, and I push them aside. “I’m sorry.”

Jonathan shakes his head and sniffs again. “I knew we were done when you left. But seeing the way you looked at that guy today, and the way he looked at you… I guess it’s real, huh? We’re really going to end it.”

“We have to,” I say. “I promise, life is so much better on the other side.” My mouth tips up in a sad smile.

He chuckles, glancing at the water-stain covered walls. “Yeah, you’re living the dream… When we come back in a year, we’ll find you a better apartment.”

I shrug. It may not be glamorous, but it’s worth more than gold. I look forward to the day of his deliverance, so he can feel the weight lift and understand the peace that comes with it.

He studies me thoughtfully. “I’m sorry, Scottie.”

One year, one year.

“But I will have to give notice at work. I can’t drop everything and go back to Arkansas immediately.” I plan to return to this town. If I’m to get my old job back next year, a graceful exit is necessary.

“How much time do you need?”

“Two to three weeks. I need to figure it out with them.” My gaze drops to my hands. “I also have to talk to Callahan.”

He nods. “I, uh, I’m staying at a local hotel.” He grabs a notepad and pen from the counter and jots down the name and room number. “If you need a break from this… or need to talk. Come find me.”

“Okay.” This apartment may not be as nice as the house we had back in Arkansas, but it’s part of my journey. Someday, I will look back and see how far I’ve come.

“I love you, Scottie. I hope you know I don’t take for granted the sacrifice you’re making. You’re saving me, for the second time,” he says.

“You’re my best friend.” He squeezes my hand and sweeps the back of his fingers across my cheek. “I want some time to sit with this, and process everything. I don’t know how I’m going to explain it to Callahan.”

“You’re worth the wait. If he cares for you, he’ll wait a year… This isn't goodbye.”

Emotion swells in my throat, forming a lump too big to swallow. Then why does it feel like it?

Freeing my hand, we stand, and I hug him. He rests his head on top of mine. I breathe him in, squeezing tight around his midsection. After realizing my feelings for Callahan, the difference between the two men I love is like night and day. Jonathan showed me what love is, but Callahan let me experience it .

He stuffs his hands in his pockets and gives a half-hearted laugh. “Yeah… I’ll be in touch.”

“It’s good to see you again.” We hug one more time, and he leaves.

Closing the door behind him, I wrap my arms around my stomach, then collapse into my half-deflated bed. Crumpled in a ball, I release one gut-wrenching sob after another.

I don’t want to say goodbye.

I wake up just as the sun is setting. I fell asleep crying. Lying motionless, my body has sunk so far into the deflated mattress that I’m grazing the floor. My stomach growls. I roll over, and it’s as if all my muscles have tightened up.

“Oh God,” I groan. I’m starting to feel that hike down the mountain.

Disconnecting my phone from the charger, I spy a text message notification. Thankfully, my phone didn’t break, it just lost charge; the cold temperature probably drained the battery.

I flip open the phone. It’s from Cal.

I read the text. Then I read it again. And again.

I never thought I’d experience a love like this. The kind that swarms my stomach with butterflies and excitement. The kind from my romance books. The kind where I spend four days trapped at the top of a mountain with someone and miss them after less than twenty-four hours of being apart. The kind where leaving him feels like losing a part of myself.

Hi.

My phone dings almost immediately after sending the text.

Callahan

Hey.

How was brushing your teeth?

Callahan

Better than I could have imagined. How was your shower?

Sufficient-ish? Have you eaten?

Callahan

I could eat again.

We need to talk. I want to see him. Hug him. Apologize and sob all over again.

Do you want to meet up at that burger place nearby?

Callahan

Yes. Will there be anyone else joining us? It’s okay if there is.

It’s his way of asking if Jonathan is still here, and I appreciate his understanding.

Just me.

Callahan

I’ll pick you up in 5.

Smiling, I type out a response.

It’s only a couple blocks away.

Callahan

If your knees feel anything like mine, we’ve done enough walking for today. I’ll pick you up in 5.

I laugh because I don’t have any tears left to cry.

I’ll wait for you outside. I’ll be the one limping.