Page 26 of For I Have Sinned
Twelve
ZAIDEN
Six months later
The sun is bright and warm and I stop for a minute outside the cathedral, staring up at the tall and imposing stained-glass window. Enjoying the way the sun reflects off its colors and paints the grassy yard in a rainbow.
Ellsworth’s flowerbeds are still beautiful, including the rainbow he planted under the tree by the bench. I sit there for a minute, remembering the day I first saw him here. How my world shifted as soon as I looked into his eyes. Everything in me was just rewritten.
My heart pangs a little remembering those days. While it feels like a lifetime ago, I also remember it like it was yesterday. Every look, every touch. His quiet voice. The way he kissed me and held me and how his voice quaked when he told me he couldn’t do this.
As it always does when I remember, my stomach drops and for a second, I have to catch my breath. Nothing has ever hurt quite like that. I admit to having lived a pretty privileged life, so I don’t have much trauma or pain to compare it to. But to say I was devastated still feels like the word downplays how I felt.
Taking a breath, I glance at the doors as I stand. There’s a priest there, watching me with disapproval. Sometimes I ask them if God would approve of the way they make sure some people aren’t welcome in their church. Their look of mortification is only slightly satisfying.
Really, all the radical churches do by instituting things like ‘being gay is a sin’ and every other bigoted agenda is push their own beliefs down the throats of weak-minded individuals. Those who are desperately looking for forgiveness for whatever it is they’ve done. These priests are supposed to be the voice of God, spreading His word and sharing His faith.
Not trying to spread hate around the world. There’s enough of that out there.
I wave at the priest, who frowns disapprovingly at me. Especially when I pick up my messenger bag that I’ve replaced the nondescript black shoulder strap with a rainbow one. What can I say? It matches my belt and my sneakers!
And the big flag that’s hanging outside the door of the real estate agency. Sam was only all too happy to agree that I hang it. He even hired landscape architects to plant a very blatant rainbow in flowers across the front yard, a nod to Ellsworth’s work outside the church.
I turn down the road and follow the sidewalk toward my house. I appreciate that we usually tend to have fair weather. A little rainy sometimes but otherwise, the temperature is generally pretty moderate. In what constitutes as winter, it can get cold at night but the days are usually pretty nice.
My house hasn’t changed much except for the addition of the rainbow flower bed out front. While I was ready to put up a flag, I decided I needed to redo the siding first. I am contemplating just using siding as my flag and getting a wide array of colors. I don’t want to push it though.
I step inside and set my bag down. The house is quiet. I peek into the bedroom to find it empty, which isn’t a surprise. It’s usually only occupied at night. The kitchen has a Crock-Pot cooking, and I lift the lid to take a quick look inside. It smells amazing.
Replacing it, I head for the backdoor. It’s open and a smile immediately covers my face as I watch Ellsworth outside with the flowers. I lean against the doorframe to watch him.
After his confession six months ago, Ellsworth never returned to the cathedral. He rarely even looks at it when we walk by, which is somewhat regularly since it is located in the middle of downtown. He moved in with me and by that I mean he sleeps here every night. It’s not like he had belongings to move, so it was just him.
He hasn’t found God yet. But he’s attended a service at every church in town and spoken to every priest, pastor, and reverend at each of the churches. I enjoy going with him, just to see how he takes it all in. Seeing him narrow his eyes at something is as adorable as it is when he gives a small, approving smile.
But I can tell, every time we walk out, he hasn’t heard or seen anything that makes him believe even a little bit. The bemused smile he sends my way confirms it.
Ellsworth doesn’t stop trying, though. He reads religious texts and articles online. We’re planning something like a pilgrimage in the following year to a few of the holiest sites to see if he finds his faith there.
What I love most, though, is that he has finally started talking about his husband. I ask about him often but not so much that I make him uncomfortable. I just want Ellsworth to know that he can talk about him. He can remember him. I don’t want to take his place. And finally, just a couple weeks ago, Ellsworth started mentioning him sometimes.
Once because he made his husband’s favorite meal and he wanted to tell me that. It was just that. Just that ‘this was his favorite meal,’ but that was enough to have me beaming at him. I didn’t comment because I didn’t want to push more conversation.
The following day, Ellsworth chose a movie. When it was over, he said, “He loved this stupid movie but for the life of me, I could never see why.”
I hugged him tightly to me, and he laughed.
Right now, as I watch him on his hands and knees in the flowers, I know that he’s planting his husband’s favorite flower. An entire bed of them in all of his favorite colors. I’m hoping he’ll let us put a stone or something as an honor to him. But I’ll wait to bring that up.
Ellsworth sits back and brushes his hands on his pants, leaving streaks of dirt. He looks around the yard before turning and finding me watching him. He smiles and I know he’s not at all surprised to see me there. Nearly every day when I come home, if he doesn’t see me right away, I just watch him and think to myself, this is my life. I have the man of my dreams. Someone I love so damn much it hurts and heals at the same time.
He gets to his feet and crosses the yard to me. I push off the door and meet him halfway. His mouth immediately covers mine, as it does following every time we’re apart for a few hours. Ellsworth holds me loosely for a minute, but then I’m in his arms, his hands under my thighs, and he kisses me deeply.
“Love you,” he says into my mouth.
I grin stupidly. “Love you too, El.”
His smile is soft as he kisses me lightly. “Have a good day? Sell a house?”
