Page 46 of Seeking Two Lovers

Lily sat smack dab in the center, and I settled in beside her.

“My parents—hell, my entire family—were super involved in the church.”

I shifted to face her, my nervousness dissolving a bit at her choice of conversation. She’d said no expectations, but I doubted she’d want to dive back into what I thought I’d been obvious about not wanting to share.

But she could, and I would listen.

“I understand that all too well,” I murmured, my heart hurting for her even if she’d experienced only a fraction of what I had as a kid.

“I grew up beneath a shit ton of rules, obligations, expectations…and even though my parents believed they were doing their best in raising me, I’ve come to recognize how emotionally empty our household was.”

She peered at me as though waiting, and I nodded my agreement, giving her that much at least.

“Were you told to trust God when things got tough and you didn’t know how to handle your feelings?” Her question wasn’t probing, sounding more like she wanted to create yet another bridge between us.

Perhaps she needed me to open up too, to meet her halfway before we could move forward, which I definitely hoped to.

I decided on sharing what I could without pulling too much darkness up from where it festered in the deepest part of me. “That and our leader who we’d been told heard directly from God.”

Lily nodded. “Same. God’s man and all that bullshit. I did everything asked of me, volunteered to help out around the church whenever I could. Worship and servitude were our life, the reason for our existence.”

“And questioning that supposed truth?” I prompted, wondering how much we truly had in common.

“It was considered rebellion against God’s word.”

“Were you punished?” I asked quietly, my breaths slowing even as my heart rate rose along with a thread of darkness.

Lips pursed, Lily furrowed her brow. “My parents weren’t abusive, but they didn’t spare the rod, that’s for sure. Once I hit my teenaged years, I had electronics and the freedom of hanging out with friends outside church taken away.”

Better than being locked in small, dark spaces where no food or water was allowed. Or being forced to kneel and accept lashes—and the aftercare that hurt more than the leather biting across my back.

A shiver slid over me, raising the hairs on my arms. I rubbed at them while swallowing a hint of bile, determined to stay in the light while with Lily.

“Do you keep in touch with your family?”

I studied the callouses on my palms, fighting the urge to pick at them as memories continued to press upward and turn my stomach. “No.”

“It was that bad, huh?”

“Yeah.” I tried for a smile through my nausea, shifting on the couch and lifting my focus back to her face.

No pity shone in her eyes, just a kindness that promised understanding. “Have you figured out who you are outside your past yet, Blaine?”

Fucking loaded question, but it gave me something else to think on.

“Some,” I finally answered after a lightning flash of memories from the previous nine years. My stomach settled a little at the reminder of how far I’d come, the escape Grey had made possible for me. Warmth spread over my chest. I owed the man more than I could ever repay. “You?”

“I like to think so.” Lily’s tone lightened. “It’s nice to stretch my limbs and just swim in the ocean of life, know what I mean?”

I did to some extent, but I had yet to take off my life jacket.

Greyson.

“What haven’t you done yet?” she asked. “What’s on your bucket list you’ve been dying to scratch off but haven’t allowed yourself to do?”

Her questions struck hard. I’d never considered a future beyond working every day and resting in quiet at home. Sure, I enjoyed the hookups with my best friend, but I didn’t strive for more. Didn’t push myself to breathe fully and live even though he prompted me almost daily to stretch my wings and fly.

Perhaps it was time for me to do more. Be more. Open my eyes wide to all the world had to offer. Kick my legs against the current and learn how to slice through the ocean of life like Lily spoke of without a buoy holding me up.

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