Page 89 of Fight

“I’m fine!” I bark. I bow my head before staring back at my reflection. “Sorry… I’m fine. I just need a minute. It’s been a weird four days.”

Abandoning my hair, I put on a fresh pair of underwear, jeans, and a T-shirt. At least my clothes are clean.

Jonathan is sitting in the busted kitchen chair when I exit the bathroom. One of his arms rests on the small table. We observeeach other, but it’s unfamiliar. We haven’t spoken in roughly two months, and now he’s here, in my new life.

“So. How have you been?” I ask.

“Been better.”

I sit across from him in the other seat. None of these things are surprising to me, as I saw the writing on the walls years ago, but it took me a long time to gain the courage and earn enough money to leave. If only he’d come with me, we could be going through this journey together.

“How are your parents? I miss your mom’s fried chicken.” I give a half-hearted laugh. “I still can’t believe she gave me the recipe, one of these days I’m going to master it.” This week, I’m buying a full load of groceries, including produce and protein.

“You’re the only one she gave the recipe to.” He chuckles, then sobers. “She misses you… feels like she’s lost a daughter.”

I swallow, looking down at my hands. I miss her too. Jonathan had a kind family. They never knew how our marriage was. “Feels like I lost a mother too.”

“She wants you to come home.”

With a tight smile, I fuss with the loose thread on the hem of my shirt. He knows I can’t do that. “We both know that’s not my home anymore.”

“Maybe it is.”

My eyes plead with his. “Jonathan…”

“You have to come home, Scottie.”

I shake my head and point down. “This is my home.”

He stands from his chair, opening his arms and spinning in a circle. “You say this is a home?! You hardly have any food, you’re sleeping on the floor, your walls are literally crumbling! I was the only one who discovered you were missing. You haveno onehere!”

My bottom lip trembles as tears burn the back of my eyes. “Maybe. But I’d bet every last cent I have that I’m happier in this deteriorating apartment than you’ll ever be in The Fold.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose and sucks in a breath. I exhale, releasing my nerves. It occurs to me that I haven’t asked him how he even found me to begin with.

I narrow my gaze. “How did you know I was here?”

“I didn’t. The council did.”

“What?” The hair on the back of my neck stands up.

He sighs. “I’m here to bring you home. To The Fold, where you belong.”

I wish he’d stop calling it home. Home is where you feel safe and secure. Home is with Callahan. “I don’t want to go back to Arkansas.”

“You made a vow to me,” he argues.

“It’s been weeks. We’re separated. Do you remember our promise to let the other one go? What about that?”

“Scottie, they know!”

My lids shoot open. “What are you talking about?” This is a nightmare coming true. They always assumed that our marriage “fixed” him. If they realize he’s still gay, he’s not safe. I lower back into my chair and fix my eyes on a dent in the linoleum floor.

“They questioned me after you left, it was awful.”

“Why did you even tell them?—”

“Don’t!Youleftme, remember? You have no idea what it’s been like since you left.”

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