Page 105 of My Vows Are Sealed

That made a lot of things make sense. Like why he was so hostile toward Kate and Ashton. It wasn’t really them he hated. It was himself. And that broke my heart. It broke my heart that my dad had preached so much hatred and bigotry that it had made Ethan hate himself. It broke my heart that this poor kid had been so confused and angry at the world because of something he couldn’t control.

But it still didn’t explain why he’d made a game out of snitching to my dad about every little infraction he saw me commit. Yeah, he’d been cruel to my friends, but he’d singled me out more than them. He wanted to seemesuffer specifically. That couldn’t be explained away by his struggles accepting himself.

Something else had happened to him. Something big. I’d been able to tell that he was in a lot of pain back when we were in high school. The kind of pain I recognized, because I was dealing with it too. And bile churned in my stomach as I came to a sickening realization.

Please, God, let me be wrong about this,I prayed.

“What happened to you, Ethan?” I whispered.

His eyes snapped to mine, going wide. “What?”

“You singledmeout, more than Kate and Ash. You wanted to seemehurt. Why?” I pressed.

A sob tore out of his throat and tears started streaming down his cheeks as he buried his head in his hands. I stood up, ignoring the confused look from my fiancé as I walked around the coffee table to sit on Ethan’s other side and hugged his shoulders.

I wasn’t wrong. I knew exactly what had happened to him.

His parents had tried to get him counseling. And when people who were devoted to their religion needed counseling, they didn’t go to doctors or therapists. They looked for the answers within their faith. They went to their priests and ministers. And that was where Ethan’s parents had sent him.

Straight to my father, who didn’t have a kind or helpful bone in his whole body.

“It was my dad, wasn’t it?” I murmured. “My dad hurt you.”

Ethan nodded as more tears streamed down his face. “I’m sorry, Darla. I’m so fucking sorry. Every Wednesday night before church, he’d close the blinds on the windows and the shade on his office door. He’d tell me not to make a sound. And he’d…he’d…”

He broke down in another round of sobs, and I tightened my arms around him, looking over his shoulder at Brendan, who seemed to be frozen in shock.

“It’s okay, Ethan,” I whispered. “It’s okay. You don’t have to say it. You thought you were the one who did something wrong, because that’s what he told you. And you thought that maybe if you told him what his own child was doing, he’d stop hurting you and hurt me instead. Right?”

He nodded. “It was stupid. Please…please tell me he didn’t do to you what he did to me. Please.”

Time seemed to stand still as I processed what he was saying.

My dad hadn’t just hit Ethan. He hadn’t just told him he was a sinner and going straight to Hell because he was gay.

No, he’d molested him. He’d taken the very thing Ethan was struggling with and used it against him, betraying his trust in the worst possible way.

“Jesus, Ethan,” Brendan gasped. “Why…why didn’t you tell someone?”

I looked up at him, and his expression mirrored my absolute shock, horror, and disgust.

“I tried,” he bawled. “I tried to tell my parents. And they said…they asked me how I could accuse a man of God of something so heinous and literally stripped my bedroom down to bare essentials because I refused to back down from my claims. If my own parents wouldn’t believe me, why would anyone else?”

“You didn’t go to the police?” I asked as tears started to trickle down my cheeks.

He shook his head. “No. And it’s been three and a half years. It’s too late now. Please tell me he never did that to you, Darla. Please. I’ll never forgive myself if he did.”

“No, he didn’t,” I sighed. “He came really close a couple of weeks before I graduated, but my mom stopped him and I left home. That’s why Brendan proposed last night. So we can get married as soon as I turn eighteen and I never have to go back.”

“And no one believed you about what he was doing either, did they?” he guessed.

“Nope. Not after he got to them and told them how I was a pathological liar who made up stories for attention,” I sniffled. “But as soon as I turn eighteen, I’m going to the police. I’m telling them everything. You could too, if you want. It’s worth trying.”

“No,” he said, taking a deep breath and wiping his eyes. “I can’t…I’m not strong enough to go through that. I’m only just now getting help from a real therapist. I can’t handle going through reporting it. Besides, at this point, it’s literally just my word against his. There’s no proof.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of too,” I admitted. “But I have to try. If you ever change your mind, you don’t have to go through it alone. I’m here. And I know what you’re going through more than probably anyone else does.”

“I’m here too,” Brendan added.

---