Page 63 of Letting Go

"I'm here to be cleansed," I say through clenched teeth.

"Again." He pulls.

"I'm here to find my dignity."

"Again."

"I'm here to be with God."

These are the answers he wants. He let's go. I'm not surprised the answers were right there, so close to recent memory. I didn't even have to think about it. They've been drilled into me a long, long time ago. Every single morning. This was our chant.

"That's right," he says. "Your dignity is what you've lost. We are all born sinners. The moment the sperm strikes the egg, there is sin. We can’t help it." Taking a step back the light shines from behind him and I can’t see his face at all.

"Did you sleep with him?"

I say nothing.

"Did you sleep with that man?"

I try to look directly at him. "Yes," I say. "I did."

"Shit."

He seems genuinely shocked. Betrayed even. His voice changes. He bends over so we are face to face.

"Then our consummation is going to take a lot longer. I need to know that any child is mine. We are preparing," he says, putting his hands on the arms of the little wooden chair and leaning into my face, "we are preparing for an important time for the next generation. You are the mother of that generation."

He pushes away and takes a step back. "You must be hungry," he says. I look at him, trying to stare him down without actually meeting his eyes.

"I have these delicious apples." He reaches to one in a bowl by the sink. "You may not have any yet. You must push through your hunger. I have taught you to survive. You can survive so much. Look at what you've already survived, but you've lost your way. You may not have any until I return this afternoon."

Sudden fear leaps into my heart like a wicked flame. I don't want to count on him for anything. But I need him to return. And I hate that I need him in any way shape or form.

"I want you to feel your hunger, live with it, and know that you can get through this. You don't need food, Chloe. You need His love and you need my love."

"Where are you going?"

Something flits across his face. Anger? Remorse? No … it's resignation. "I have to do something later this morning. I have to fix something. There'll be no more walking on fire or water. That's over as of today. I have to keep people safe from him."

All I can think of is Bryce. He wants to keep me safe from Bryce.

"You may go lie down now," he says. I stand up, and the room spins a little. I tried not to let him know this. I walked over to the foam mattress, but I am not lying down.

"You can sleep for a while luv," he says, "and then get to work."

I say nothing. Work?

"I'd take advantage of this time. I'll be back around two when it’s all over."

That's when a thought forms in my brain: He's going to kill Bryce.

"You leave Bryce alone," I say.

"So that's his name? I thought it was the other one on the website. Jackson Sterling. Hmm. Interesting."

We stand just feet apart.

"Your only love on earth is me. And I'm ready," he says, leaning forward. For the first time in years, I really looked into his eyes. I'd never dared to before and always averted mine when he drew physically. But those burning blue eyes truly burned with no pupils. It was the weirdest stare. It's as if his pupils were tiny pinpricks. No wonder all he could see with them was himself. There was no aperture for the world.