Page 28 of Devotion

“You should go. I’m getting a migraine.”

His hand lands on my back, and I almost pull away.

“Then, maybe I should stick around for a bit,” he offers. “I mean, I can’t stay the whole night, but I’ve got about half an hour.”

Fucking. Asshole.

“No, just… go. I’ll be fine.”

He leaves his hand there a moment, and I get the feeling he wants me to take it as a sign that he cares, but I’m not an idiot.

“Call if you need something. I’m not that far.”

I extend my arm, giving an exaggerated thumbs up.

He’s off my bed the next second, doing his usual walk to the bathroom to flush the condom, then I listen as he dresses himself, then turns the doorknob.

“I mean it. Call if you need something.”

“As long as it’s within the next half hour, right?”

He’s quiet, and I know I shouldn’t have said anything. Especially seeing as how I don’t actually care. It’s just fucking insulting.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” I say, burying my head underneath the pillow. “It’s the headache talking.”

He stands there a moment, then eventually buys the lie, and I’m grateful he doesn’t try his hand at anymore small talk or half-assed goodbyes. He just leaves, and I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to be alone than I am right now.

I wait until I hear him take off out of the driveway before deadbolting the door, pulling on my robe, and then tossing my bedding in the wash. I’m pissed at myself for how my thoughts never seem to be mine to control. There’s always some outside force swaying me in one direction or another. And this time, I’m fearful that the latest bad influence is as dark as they come.

But… this fixation, this darkness is… powerful.

So powerful that I’m eyeing my computer as a strange temptation grows within me. I convince myself my desire to connect with him is steeped in good intentions, talking myself into believing that I’m logging into my email messenger to scold the monster masquerading as a man.

But deep down, as I type out my first message, I know it’s more than that.

Layla: James 1:14 “But each person is tempted when he is drawn away and enticed by his own evil desire.”

My heart’s racing as I stare at the blinking cursor, but it skips an entire beat when I see he’s typing back.

Unknown: “Then after desire is conceived, it gives birth to sin.”

I breathe deep, typing words that calm my thoughts of him. They give me a sense of putting him in his place.

Putting myemotionsin their place.

Layla: “And when sin is fully grown… it gives birth to death.”

I stare at those words, trying to let them penetrate my thoughts, but I’m still thinking of him in ways I shouldn’t.

Unknown: Let me come to you.

The sudden twist in conversation startles me. So much that I read, and re-read, his message, wondering what the hell he’s thinking. I mean, the last time we communicated, I threatened to have his ass locked away forever. Which begs the question, why would he evensuggestthat we meet?

I feel my pulse racing at the hollow of my throat, and I’m utterly shocked by the lack of fear his suggestion sparks. Reminding me that, despite being a functional human being who’s successfully integrated herself into society… I’m still broken, still saturated in darkness.

Which is why I’ve suddenly come to my senses, admitting to myself that reaching out to him was a mistake.

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