Page 58 of Unbound
Because that's what it was, wasn't it? Weakness. Sin. Everything I'd been taught it was.
Outside the auditorium, the spring air hit my face like a slap. I leaned against the brick wall, gasping, trying to process what had just happened. What I'd just destroyed.
My phone was buzzing insistently in my pocket. Text after text, call after call.
Father: Come home NOW.
Rebecca: Jesse please call me
Mother: How could you do this to us?
Unknown number: Saw the video. Praying for your soul.
Pastor Caldwell: Your father called. I need to see you immediately.
Father: You have ten minutes to get in the car or don't come home at all.
The messages kept coming, a flood of disappointment and anger and hurt. I scrolled through them with shaking hands, watching my entire life explode in real time.
Someone had already posted video of the kiss online. The comments were brutal, predictable:
"Disgusting"
"Another one falls to temptation"
"His poor parents"
"Praying for his family"
"FAKE Christian finally shows his true colours"
I slumped against the wall, the phone heavy in my hands. The shame was overwhelming, crushing, making it hard to breathe. What kind of person was I? What kind of son did this to his family? To himself?
I'd been so arrogant, thinking I could play with fire and not get burned. Thinking I could argue for their side without consequences. Thinking I was strong enough to resist temptation.
But the moment Adrian looked at me like that, the moment I felt that surge of... whatever it was... I'd fallen. Completely and publicly and catastrophically.
My phone rang. Father.
I stared at the screen, watching his name flash. I knew what waited for me if I answered. Disappointment. Anger. Demands that I come home immediately and face the consequences of what I'd done. Sessions with Pastor Williams. Prayers and fasting and attempts to fix whatever was broken in me.
But what was the alternative? Where else could I go? What else could I do?
I was twenty-one years old and I'd just destroyed the only life I'd ever known for ten seconds of... what? Lust? Confusion? Temporary insanity?
The phone kept ringing.
I answered on the fourth ring.
"Jesse Michael Miller." Father's voice was cold, controlled, and infinitely disappointed. "Get in the car. Now. We're going home."
"Father, I—"
"Now, Jesse. Before this gets any worse."
I closed my eyes, the shame washing over me in waves. "Yes, sir."
"Good. We're in the parking lot behind the auditorium. You have two minutes."
