Page 60 of Loving the Sinner
Was I waiting around by my phone for Elli to text me this morning?
No.
Okay, fine.
Yes.
But I had some serious regrets about not being able to wake up next to her this morning and I missed her.
Sue me.
So when she texted me and asked if I was free, I didn’t even question it. I hopped in the car and headed to the donut place halfway between her place and mine. I got a dozen assorted donuts, an iced white mocha, my usual coffee and now I’m here, waiting for her to answer her door.
When she finally does, she takes my breath away. I love Elli in makeup, but I also love seeing her bare face. She’s in a purple shirt that has EFY on it, and looks like it’s seen better days, and a pair of shorts that should be criminal with how they hug her ass and thighs.
I step in, set the donuts and coffee on the counter, and turn back to her to pull her into a tight hug. I can tell she’s been crying by the red rim around her eyes, and my heart aches.
“Hi baby.” I whisper, gently kissing her lips.
She offers me a small, sad smile in return. “Hi handsome.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
She nods, and I take her over to the couch sitting back so she can fit between my thighs. I wrap my arms around her chest and hug her.
She takes a few deep breaths and tells me about a conversation she just had with her mom. She tells me about how her mom blames her for “ruining” their eternal family or whatever, and how her mom called her a disappointment.
“She had the audacity to bring up my ex. She was all ‘What will Packer think?’ of me bringing you to the farewell and sharing a hotel room with you. I told her Packer doesn't get an opinion because he dumped me and married an eighteen year old after.”
I stiffen, because that’s new information about her ex. I obviously knew he was an idiot for letting a catch like Elli go, and that he got married really quickly after they broke up. But to dump her and then marry aneighteen year oldtwo months later is a dick move. Not to mention, creepy as fuck.
“Do you want to talk about your ex? I’m a little confused on how things ended now, but if you don’t want to talk about it, it’s okay.” I say cautiously. I don’t want to upset her.
She waves me off. “I’m fine talking about him. He’s obviously an asshat. When we started dating, I was already questioning the church but I thought maybe if I could get married to a ‘worthy man’ my doubts would go away. But I think back on it, Packer was a shitty boyfriend. He always made comments about my weight, would rarely touch me in public, and would never make an effort to make me feel special.
“When he ended things, he told me he just wasn’t looking for anything serious. I got that. It made sense. I was hurt, but I understood, ya know? But then I saw he was tagged in a picture on Instagram from a petite blonde girl who looked freshly graduated from high school, saying she can’t believe she’s marrying the love of her life. So I did some digging and found out he met her on his mission in Nebraska. She was, in fact, freshly graduated from high school and was moving to Utah to go to BYU for college. I assume they’d been talking for months in order for things to move that quickly. Now she’s pregnant I guess. Izzy’s been keeping tabs on the girl, Tiffany, because she loves drama, but I don’t really care anymore.”
“How old is Packer?” I ask.
“Twenty-six.”
“Her parents let her marry a twenty-six year old right out of high school? Who does that?” I’m appalled. That’s weird and disgusting on so many levels.
She shrugs, like this is totally fucking normal. “Lots of people get married right out of high school in Mormonism, especially in Utah. The amount of times growing up I heard ‘ooo look at that cute missionary. You know, he’s only six years older than you. When you turn eighteen he’ll only be twenty-four. Maybe he’s your future husband!’ is obscene. Mormon women are groomed to be married and have babies at a young age.”
I do the math in my head and realize that she wastwelvewhen she was told that. “That’s…”disgusting. Creepy. Should be illegal.“Intense.”
The understatement of the century.
Elli’s head falls back against my shoulder as she releases a long sigh. “I know. It’s gross. I don’t think I want kids, but if I did have them, I’dneverput pressure on them at twelve to think about their future partner that seriously. When I turned fourteen and wasn’t ‘shedding the adolescent weight’ as my mom put it, she started telling me that if I ever wanted a good husband I needed to take better care of myself. It’s why I learned to cook, too. To be able to be a good housewife.”
“I hate that, Elli. A lot. I’m sorry you went through that. Luckily for you, I also know how to cook so you don’t have to worry about being the perfect housewife for me.”
Realizing what I just said, I try to back track. “Not that you’re my wife, or that I want you to be my wife. I mean we just started dating. House girlfriend? Not that you’re my girlfriend because we haven’t put labels on anything. God, shut me up now.”
When I finish rambling, I realize Elli is shaking.
Oh fuck, I’ve made her cry.
