Page 35 of Take Me to Church
“I believed you.” His hand lifts to trace along the side of my face. “But I had to be sure she meant it. I knew you’d never forgive yourself if she changed her mind and something happened.”
Maybe it’s because we’re standing so close. Maybe it’s because my own emotions are so raw. Whatever the reason, I see something I haven’t noticed before. The sadness in Christian’s eyes. The regret.
It makes me think of a person I’d all but forgotten. “What happened to your sister?”
Like me, Christian is the youngest of his family. And considering the church that controlled our lives believed birth control was a sin and that truly godly women were always available to meet their husband’s needs, being the youngest meant you could be well over a decade younger than your oldest sibling. Christian is ten years older than I am, which probably means there are more than twenty between me and his older sister. She was married and a mother before I was even born. The only reason she was ever on my radar was because she was connected to Christian. When he left, I soaked up every tidbit of information remotely pertaining to him, including any and all gossip concerning his family.
It’s embarrassing to think about how much I thought of him. Some might call it an obsession. But I knew so few people back then, boys especially, and even fewer that I actually had any interest in. So I clung to his memory. Held it, and anything pertaining to it, close.
But then she left too.
Christian’s expression tightens, the sadness I suspected earlier blooming across his handsome features. “She didn’t really mean it when she said she was ready to leave.”
My stomach clenches as a chill moves through me, settling around the tightening in my gut. “But she did leave. They told us she’d been—”
They told us she’d been possessed by the devil. That he turned her away from the light of God. I was young and innocent enough to believe that meant she’d cut her hair and put on a pair of jeans before walking away from the same miserable existence I wanted to leave.
But now I know it’s not that easy. Especially when you’ve already been married off. Like my sister has. Like Christian’s sister had.
“You helped her get out and she went back.” The discomfort in my stomach only intensifies, sending it sinking so fast I need something to hang on to. I reach for Christian, hands falling against the warmth of his chest.
His eyes hold mine as he slowly nods.
I think I might throw up.
When I left the IGL, I hated how clueless I was. How naïve. How sheltered. But right now it’s difficult not to want a little of that back. To wish that, at least in this specific situation, I was still just as clueless as I was before.
I step forward, closing what little space is left between us as I grab onto him, arms threading around his waist, holding tight as the reality of his situation and mine crashes down.
“I’m so sorry, Christian.” I close my eyes, wanting to comfort him, needing to comfort myself as I bury my face against his neck, wishing I could block it all out. “It’s not your fault.”
Christian is stiff against me for a second, but then his arms slowly wrap around my body, his skin still slightly damp and tacky from the shower I interrupted as he presses my body against his. “Does that mean you won’t feel responsible if something happens to Myra?”
The ache in my middle twists tighter because I know what he’s trying to tell me. That even though Myra has met his criteria—has told him she’s ready to go—there’s still the chance she might return.
And the consequences could be deadly.
“She’s ready to go. I promise.” I can’t think about what he’s trying to make me understand. It’s too scary for me and makes me ache too much for him. “She won’t go back. I know she won’t.”
Christian’s hand slides down my hair in a gentle caress. “I would have said the same thing about Rebecca. It’s the only life they know, Lydia. Walking away isn’t easy, even when someone is ready to help you along the way.”
I take a steadying breath, standing a little taller as I lean back to look him in the eyes. “I did it.” And if I did it, so can Myra.
SowillMyra.
The hard line of Christian’s mouth barely softens, lifting at one corner as the hand in my hair slides to my face, stroking across my skin. “Not everyone is as brave as you are, Lydia.”
I stand perfectly still as he continues to touch me. The brush of his fingers moves across my face, tracing my cheekbone, my jaw line, my lips. It’s soothing and almost hypnotizing and drags free a confession I don’t mean to make. “I’m not brave. I’m scared all the time.”
Christian’s eyes focus on where he touches me, following the path of his calloused caress. “Being brave doesn’t mean you’re not scared. It means you keep going anyway.” His mouth flattens again. “Do you know how many people could have handled what happened today the way you did?” He barely shakes his head, eyes lifting to mine. “Not many.”
“I didn’t handle anything. I just stood there while Rodney tried to take me.” Embarrassment and guilt make my skin hot. “If it hadn’t been for you—” I swallow hard, but it doesn’t have anything to do with worry over what might have happened. I’m just starting to notice all of me is pressed against all of Christian.
All of practically naked Christian.
I swallow hard as my nipples start to feel tight where they’re pressed against his bare chest, the sensation building more with each passing second. “If it hadn’t been for you I would be somewhere very different right now.” It’s a statement that encompasses more than just what happened today.
I always assumed my youthful fascination with Christian was primarily due to my lack of other viable options, but it’s starting to seem like maybe that wasn’t the only reason he was never far from my mind. I have plenty of options now, and I still can’t seem to stop thinking about him.
