Page 84 of The Prodigal Son

“Not that I remember,” Isaac replies. “But I bet he’s got a very bitter spot for anything related to that church after what our dad did.”

“No, I don’t think he hates me. In fact, today was the second time we met, and I think he’s actually warming up to me,” I say as I turn into my neighborhood.

“This must be really weird for you,” Isaac replies with a loud breath. “The church connection and the secret boyfriend connection.”

“It is, but it had me thinking,” I say. Pensively, I chew on my lip before continuing. “I know the meeting with Luke was a disaster, but why don’t we try again? Why don’t we just…tell them?”

Isaac doesn’t reply. He lets out a disgruntled sound. When I don’t get my reply, I go on.

“With your father out of prison, I think solidarity right now is going to be the smart choice. Show him that you are all strong without him. He’s not a threat to you anymore, Isaac. And it’s time you took back your family. With me by your side, of course.”

Still, silence.

“Isaac…”

“I’m thinking,” he replies, sounding a little more awake now. “Aren’t you worried about the public finding out?”

“I trust your family’s discretion. They wouldn’t do anything to hurt you.”

“And if Truett finds out?”

“He won’t,” I reply astutely. I pull my car into my driveway and put it into park. Sitting in the front seat, I stare numbly ahead, waiting for Isaac’s response.

“Listen,” I say. “I’m not pressuring you into this, but I’m only trying to convince you because I know you’re ready, and I know it’s what you want. And I think that if we’re going to do this, we tell them everything all at once. The truth about you and Lucas. The truth about you and me. The truth about me and the church. All of it.”

“Jesus,” he mumbles to himself. “I’ll need alcohol for this.”

With a wince, I let out a sigh. Isaac’s natural reflex to reach for a drink hasn’t gotten past me. It’s not something we need to battle at the moment, though. We have enough hills to climb.

“Think about it,” I say. “And I’m sorry if this is too much pressure, but…Adam brought his daughter to the meeting.”

“Oh come on,” Isaac replies with a groan. “Now I’m really jealous.”

A smile stretches across my face. “She was pretty damn cute.”

“You don’t play fair.”

“She threw a cup at me and tried to bite my finger off.”

“She sounds feisty. I love her already,” he says with a sigh.

“I just…don’t want to see you miss out on time with your family when I could help you get that back.”

“You’re too good to me,” he replies sweetly, and I lift my hand to my mouth so my neighbors don’t come outside and find me grinning like a fool in my driveway.

“You’ll see just how good in a couple more days.”

“You tease,” he replies with a groan.

This is that moment again when the call comes to an end and those three little words are on the tip of my tongue. I’m dying to say them. But I refuse to do it over the phone.

Three more days, and he’s all mine.

Twenty-Five

Isaac

Eight days without Jensen was tough. Focusing on performing and songwriting when I know my family is in crisis is tough. Being on tour and in the public eye while all of this is going down is tough.

---