Page 41 of Journey to Love

Walking into the sanctuary, I immediately spot my parents, and my heart sinks.SHIT!I hadn't anticipated running into them today, especially not with Jacob in tow. Panic sets in as I mentally scramble to prepare myself for this unexpected encounter. I've only shared bits and pieces of my strained relationship with my parents with Jacob, so I know he's not fully equipped to handle this.

When my parents notice us and see Jacob and I holding hands, I instinctively let go, my nerves getting the better of me. Jacob shoots me a puzzled look, concern etched in his features as he asks if everything's okay. I can't find the words to respond, opting instead to nod silently and retreat to a seat in the back of the sanctuary.

But before I can escape further scrutiny, my dad approaches us, his expression serious. "Hey," he says quietly, and I offer a strained smile in return. When he tentatively suggests that we join my parents, I hesitate, feeling the weight of everyone's gaze on us.

"Umm..." I falter, searching for the right words amidst the awkward tension. Finally, I relent, not wanting to give the church gossip mill any fodder. "Sure," I manage to say, though my reluctance is evident.

My dad's gaze shifts between Jacob and me, silently urging me to make the introductions. My heart sinks as I fumble for the right words, the weight of the moment hanging heavy in the air. "Oh...uhhh...this is my friend Jacob," I manage to stammer out, the words feeling inadequate as they leave my lips.

I can sense the shock and hurt reflected in Jacob's eyes, his reaction piercing through me like a knife. Guilt gnaws at my insides, knowing that I've downplayed our connection in front of my own parents. But Jacob remains composed, offering a polite nod as he shakes my dad's hand.

With a heavy silence settling over us, we follow my dad to the third row, the tension palpable. I steal a glance at Jacob, his expression unreadable, and a pang of regret washes over me. This was not how I wanted him to meet my family, and the weight of my decision weighs heavily on my conscience as we take our seats.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jacob

As we settle into our seats in the church, Anya's words echo in my mind like a broken record.My friend Jacob, she had introduced me, as if our connection meant nothing more than a casual acquaintance. Confusion swirls within me, mingling with a tinge of hurt and frustration.

I had thought our relationship was solid, built on the foundation of trust and understanding we had cultivated over the past few weeks. Yet, her actions in front of her parents contradicted everything we had shared. Was I just a temporary distraction to her? Or was there something deeper at play here?

Anya's sudden shift in demeanor doesn't escape my notice either. The vibrant, witty girl I had grown to know and care for seems to have retreated behind a mask of forced politeness and unease. It's like she's a different person the moment we stepped foot into this church, and I can't help but wonder what demons she's battling beneath the surface.

Her past with Paul, the blame unfairly placed upon her shoulders by those around her, flashes through my mind. I had hoped that coming with her today would offer some semblance of support, a chance to prove to these judgmental people that they were wrong about her. But instead, I find myself grappling with a sense of disillusionment and uncertainty.

As the church service begins, I steal a sideways glance at Anya, her profile etched with tension and inner turmoil. I know that an awkward conversation awaits us on the journey back to her grandparents' house, and I can only hope that we can navigate through the complexities of her emotions together.

Throughout the church service, I can't shake the feeling of discomfort lingering in the air between Anya and me. The sermon drones on, but my mind is elsewhere, grappling with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside me.

Anya's demeanor speaks volumes, her usual lively spirit muted by an invisible weight pressing down on her shoulders. I want to reach out, to offer her comfort and reassurance, but something holds me back. It's as if a barrier has formed between us, one that I can't quite breach.

I steal glances at her from time to time, searching for any sign of what's going on behind those guarded eyes. But she remains stoic, her facade unyielding, leaving me to wonder what secrets she's hiding beneath the surface.

As the service draws to a close, I feel a sense of relief wash over me. Yet, it's tinged with apprehension about the impending conversation awaiting us outside these walls. What happened back there? Why did she introduce me as just a friend?

Once we step out of the church and into the sunlight, I muster the courage to broach the subject. "Anya," I begin tentatively, "is everything okay?"

She hesitates, her gaze flickering away before returning to meet mine. "I'm sorry about back there," she murmurs, her voice tinged with regret. "I didn't mean to... to introduce you like that."

I nod, understanding flooding through me. "It's okay," I assure her, though the sting of disappointment still lingers. "But... why?"

Anya's shoulders slump, and she takes a deep breath before speaking. "It's complicated," she admits, her voice barely above a whisper. "I just... I didn't want to deal with the judgment and the questions, you know?" She looks around as if to make sure that no one is listening. “These people have a tendency to talk and make assumptions about things that they know nothing about?”

I listen to Anya's words, feeling a pang of sympathy and frustration. "I understand," I murmur softly, reaching out to gently hold her hand. "But introducing me as just a friend to your parents... it stung a little, you know?"

Anya lets out a weary sigh, her eyes reflecting a mixture of guilt and resignation. "I'm sorry," she says, her voice tinged with remorse. "To my parents, the whole thing with Paul is still a sore subject."

"Yeah, but that was two years ago," I interject, trying to offer some perspective.

She shrugs, her shoulders slumping in defeat. "I know, but to them, what I did... how I embarrassed them by staying with him... it's like they still haven't moved past it. And despite being 21, they still see me as a runaway."

"That's not fair to you," I respond, my voice firm with conviction. "You're not to blame for Paul's actions."

Anya's gaze meets mine, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "I kind of am, though," she admits quietly. "Maybe not entirely, but I chose to stay."

"No, Anya, it's not your fault," I insist, my grip on her hand tightening. "Whatever they or anyone else says, it's not true. What Paul did to embarrass your parents and the church is nothing compared to what he did to you."

She falls silent, staring out the window with a haunted expression. I can sense her pain, her struggle to reconcile with her past. As we arrive at her grandparents' house, I turn to her, gently guiding her to meet my gaze.

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