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"But?"
"But we've already had so many ups and downs since we've met. You need to understand that if you share any part of my life, you're entering the fishbowl I live in. People will question who you are and watch your every move. Some who will hold you to a different standard, and a few will wait, even cheer, for you to screw up."
"I don't understand. Why would they care who you date?"
She shook her head. "It's hard to explain. I guess in some small way it's like having paparazzi always watching. Only instead of the media, it could be anyone, from skeptics to church members. They hold us to a different standard than they do themselves. And if any of us make a mistake or get caught doing something questionable in their eyes, they want to rake us over the coals. Maybe it validates them in some way, I don't know."
"That's ridiculous."
"It might be, but it happens. And after what happened with the last guy I dated seriously, well, let's say I'm a major focus right now."
I was going to come back to that story in a minute, but in the meantime, I needed to clarify something. "And you think it will be too much for me and I'll bail on you."
"You wouldn't be the first."
The rest of her implication was unspoken but was loud and clear all the same. I'd already proven I didn't have issues walking away. Fuck me. How could I prove to her that I was different, that I was strong enough to stand up to them? To prove that she was different for me?
"Let's go back to this guy you said something happened with. What exactly happened?"
Her shoulders slumped, and she closed her eyes as she lowered them to the floor. She tried to pull away from me, but I wasn't going to let her completely disengage. I clasped her hand to my knee and rubbed small circles on the back of it with my thumb. Where had the beautiful and confident young woman, who'd stood her ground against me just hours ago, disappeared?
I brushed her cheek with the backs of my knuckles. Her blue eyes latched onto mine, and I tried to make her see that I meant my next words. "I might understand better than you think. Tell me. If you knew some of the things I've done, you'd know I won't judge you. And I'm not running away this time no matter what you say."
She shrugged. "I won't hold you to that once you hear everything." She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes, and slowly released it. "You know how I described to you the type of guys I'd met at Maggie and Derek's wedding?"
I nodded. Not only were they unforgettable stories, but it was when she'd first captivated me.
"Well, there's been other guys that weren't like that, but, well, you saw how intimidating my father can be, and I think it freaked them out. A little over a year ago, I met this guy, Travis. He was fun, good-looking, and ran his own business. He seemed like everything I looked for in a guy; he was attentive, supportive of my growing business, and never rushed me, always telling me we had all the time in the world. We dated for a couple of months before I finally introduced him to my family. I wanted to make good and certain he liked me enough to stick around.
"Everything went well. He got along great with everyone, except my dad. Travis never gave me any reason not to trust him, but for whatever reason, Daddy didn't like him. He said he didn't trust him. I figured he was being a dad and thought nobody was good enough for his girls."
She cleared her throat. I could feel the tension that gripped her beneath my hand. "Travis hadn't grown up with any particular faith, but he attended with me every Sunday and got involved in ushering. I was thrilled that I'd found someone who fit into my life so well. I thought I was falling in love with him."
It wasn't easy hearing about her feelings toward this Travis guy, but I needed to know what my girl had gone through. And yes, that's how I was thinking of her. Mine.
"What happened, baby?"
She raised startled eyes at the endearment. Her lips tilted upward in a shy smile, an emotion I wasn't used to from her.
"My mom called one morning. She was frantic because the police were at the church for a drug raid."
My jaw dropped. "A what?"
She winced and nodded. I
n a flat tone, she continued. "You heard right. Travis was using our church to hide oxycodone and fentanyl pills. He used his role as an usher to have access to a small room where the acolytes and crucifer keep their robes and other stuff. We learned later he sold them in the parking lot under the guise of welcoming a "potential new member" who'd show up on Sunday mornings. With the turn in the economy and more and more people moving here, it was easy to assume they were visitors.
"They took my dad to the station for questioning. While I was talking to my mom, my doorbell rang. The police were there to question me, too. I knew nothing about what he'd been doing. I know it sounds naïve, but I'd had no reason to suspect anything. Lucky for us, Travis found the last remaining decent bone in his body and told the police that I hadn't been involved in any way and that I'd never been around when he was conducting ‘business.’ Travis went to jail, and Daddy and I were exonerated of any collaboration. No one blamed Daddy because he's so respected and they saw him as a victim as well."
Stunned almost beyond words, I couldn't help but stare wide-eyed and slack-jawed at her. "And you?"
She shook her head. "Most were understanding, but a few blamed me. A very vocal few. They see me as the reason it happened in the first place. Had I had better sense or not been so stupid, I would have seen Travis for what he was—a drug dealer. Sometimes I think they're right. Either way, it was my fault. I'm the one who brought the lion into the fold."
Oh, how I knew better than most that perpetrators of all kinds don't come with warning labels. "Oh, sweetheart. You were the biggest victim of all. He betrayed your trust and used your feelings for him and left you to deal with the consequences. It wasn't your fault."
"I keep thinking I should have noticed something, some clue that he was a drug dealer, that he was scum. But instead, I was focused on me and how he made me feel." Uncertain eyes lifted to me. “You make me feel a lot like he did.”
Oh, god. She killed me with those words.
