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Then, my eyes trail down to the open folder on the table, the deed to the club sitting there. And it all clicks into place. Everything makes sense now…and yet, nothing makes sense at the same time.
I fall back in the seat and stare up at the ceiling, and I laugh.
Because it’s all so fucking hilarious at this point. And I can’t stop. The chuckle turns into a mad howling and I sound downright maniacal.
“Get yourself together,” he says as my cackles continue.
“It’s so fucking ironic,” I say through my laughter. “You can’t sign the sex club over to her and the church over to me at the same time. How fucking stupid is that?”
He furrows his brow at me. “You think you can marry her? People will forget about those sex tapes you made if you come clean and ask for forgiveness, but if that club is in her name, your future as a pastor is gone. They will never accept you, Adam, and you know it.”
“I don’t give a shit. I just don’t care because I don’t want it. Not the church or the fame or the work or anything that might put me at risk of turning into you. I don’t want it.”
I stand from the chair and start to pace the room. I feel renewed. Turning down everything I’ve ever wanted is terrifying, but I feel as if I’ve done the firstrightthing in my life, and I’m suddenly high on it.
So I turn back toward him, pointing a finger. “And I think you’re wrong. I think a lot of people would accept us. You taught me since I was a kid that that place was evil and wrong, but all you did was instill fear and ignorance. Now I truly understand. Sex and God coexist. You can have…both. You can be both.”
His unfocused gaze is settled somewhere across the room as I speak, and I suddenly realize I don’t want to be here anymore. He doesn’t listen and he doesn’t care, so there’s no point.
I’ll buy Sage a new club. I’ll give her the world, whatever she wants. And we can finally move on without either of them, Brett or my dad.
My hand is on the door as he finally speaks.
“I’ll sign it right now, and you can give her everything she’s ever wanted…”
I’m frozen in place as his words hover over me like a dark cloud. There’s a very obviousifmissing from his statement, and I wait to hear it. The rustling of papers draws my attention, and when I finally turn around, he’s holding a pen. Looking at me with an expression of expectation, he waits for my answer.
Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil.
I’m not a fool. I know he’s not giving me something for nothing.
But when the listless eyes of the woman I love flash through my mind, I realize he’s right. I could give her everything she’s ever wanted. And that temptation is the greatest I’ve ever faced.
Forty-Five
Sage
The front door of the apartment closes and Roscoe jumps from the bed to greet Adam. I keep my eyes closed on the bed so he thinks I’m asleep, and I feel like shit for it.
I can’t take another moment of his guilt-ridden expression, wishing me better. His comfort and care are all just reminders that I’m not who I’m supposed to be. I’m not the shiny, smiling, happy girl I was when he met me.
My roots are showing because I need to dye my hair. My makeup has sat untouched for weeks. And my clothes have been in a constant cycle between floor to bed and back again. For a girl that lives above a Laundromat, it’s sad how little I’ve been washing them lately.
But the one thing I can’t seem to face with Adam is the fact that after all of this, for the past three weeks, he won’t touch me. I’m lucky if I can get a kiss or a tight hug. I miss his hands on my legs and his weight on my body. I miss the scruff of his beard against my neck or between my thighs. I missfeelingwanted.
I want to scream at him. I’m in a funk, maybe even depressed, but I’m not dead. I think I just need to be royally fucked back to normal.
Obviously, that’s not how it works, but it’s the normalcy I crave, and I can’t help but feel like he may never treat me likemeagain, and I can’t bear that thought. If I’m not me, and he’s not him, then who the fuck are we and what are we doing?
His movements are quiet as he slips off his shoes and pulls off his rain jacket, hanging it on the stand by the door. The floorboards creak as he steps closer to the bedroom, but just when I think he’s abandoned me here to sleep, I feel his weight as he settles on the mattress next to me.
His hands wind around my waist like they normally do and his lips press softly to my shoulder.
“Where were you?” I whisper.
He doesn’t answer, so I freeze before turning over. I expected him to just say something like his mom’s house or the store, but the fact that he’s not answering tells me that he has something to hide.
“Adam…” I say in a warning. “Tell me.”
