Page 92 of Lust

This will have to be a new beginning for me. My relationship with my family imploded because I hurt them, but it was bound to happen eventually. Their slow rejection over the years has been constantly on my mind—Sofia’s rejection of me most of all—but I’ve never spoken a word of it to any of them. I was as full of resentment as an overblown balloon.

This isn’t how I wanted to force a confrontation, but at least now we’ll all have to talk. To finally have it all out.

When I tell them I’m an atheist, they’ll probably blame it all on Brandon. Think that he disillusioned me further about the church. But that’s not my problem. I can’t control their willful delusions anymore, like my dad’s heartfelt belief that he can bring me back to God by sheer will.

I can only control myself.

“They all think I’m with you,” I say.

“Yet none of them have called me. Our dads got lunch together the other day, and Ness says all they did was pray for you. It’s so annoying, Mari. Why are Christians so stupid sometimes? I can’t believe I used to be the same way—giving my ‘thoughts and prayers’ when I should have been taking action.”

Livvy sounds so sweetly outraged I want to laugh. Ever since she deconstructed her own faith, she’s given me frequent apologies for the “insensitive things” she used to say to me when she was more fundamentalist. They don’t bother me like they bother her. Who cares who she used to be? She’s not that way anymore.

Maybe there’s hope for my family.

“I’m driving to Anaheim,” she says, her voice firm.

I frown. “No way. You have way too much going on. I feel like shit that I’m not there with you a week before your wedding.”

“You know I don’t care about that.” Livvy exhales a long breath. “Are you sure you don’t want me to come? Everything is pretty much ready to—”

“Olivia Grace Gallo, soon to be Olivia Grace Walker. Stop.”

The sound of her laughter fills my chest with warmth. “I’m probably making you feel worse, huh?”

I smile. “Yes.”

A silence follows. The only sound coming through the phone is the distant hum of the ocean. She’s probably sitting on her kitchen patio. The thought is comforting, like I’m there with her.

“Alright,” she eventually says, “But promise me you’ll come home soon. Getting some space is good, but I don’t want you to isolate yourself.”

“Don’t worry about me. Right now, I’m watching kids play in the pool.”

She sighs. “Aww, I wish I was there with you, love.”

“I’ll come home tomorrow. I promise.”

I’ll have to face it all then. Including my heartbreak and the reality of moving forward in my life as a stranger to Brandon.

Fuck, why does love have to be so painful?

Brandon

Sofia stares down at her coffee cup, her expression masked. Our conversation for the last ten minutes has been stilted to say the least, but I expected it.

A few hours after Hector left my house yesterday, I got a text from her. She said she wanted to talk and insisted it would be civil. I told her she didn’t have to make me any promises. If she wanted to scream at me, I wouldn’t mind. I owe that to her.

At first, I couldn’t believe that she wanted to meet at our usual Starbucks—the place we spent those first few dates—but after I thought about it, it made perfect sense. This is a safe place for her. She’s uncertain about me now after the way I betrayed her family.

She looks up at me, her eyes glassy but determined. “Why did you do it?”

My hands tremble, so I set them firmly on my lap. “I didn’t… I didn’t think about the consequences. I was incredibly selfish.”

She frowns. “Didn’t God convict your heart? While it was happening, I mean.”

“He did.” My voice is hushed. “All the time. But I ignored it.”

Her expression grows pensive. We sit in silence, the air heavy between us.

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