Chapter 21
brENT
Every inch of my body is sore. Sex with Rafe is a full-body workout. My thighs, back, and shoulders ache from being twisted and held in place for what felt like an entire damn day while he fucked me in the best way.
I’m not sure I’ve ever had a night like that before. Actually, I can say with certainty that I haven’t. Now that I think about it, most of my hookups have been just that. A single orgasm, in whatever way it comes, and then I’m out.
This isn’t the same thing. Nothing that we’re doing feels the same.
Yet I know that this is still temporary, regardless of what my heart says. The proposition was for a fake boyfriend over the holidays. That’s what we’re doing. Fake.
This is simply a bonus. Just another gift Rafe has given me, alongside sharing his amazing family with me.
Speaking of family. Rafe’s hand on my back guides me through the courtyard until we’re sitting at a table with my uncles. They smile, greeting us with a ‘good morning.’
“Did you enjoy the party last night?” Rafe asks them as he pulls the family-style platters toward us to fill our plates.
“It was a whole lot of fun,” Zaiden says with a wide smile.
I remember as a kid when I first met Zaiden and thinking to myself, Wow!
He smiles a lot. That’s the first time I took notice of how often people smile and their intent behind it.
If the average person smiles a dozen times in an hour, and I use that as the ‘normal,’ then Zaiden is at a hundred. He’s a ridiculously happy person.
Coming home, I realized my parents smiled maybe one time an hour.
And I wasn’t sure it was genuine. A smile is expected.
When there was company or when we were at church, they smiled more, but it wasn’t any more real than when we were at home.
Have I ever witnessed a genuine smile from either of them?
Would I recognize them if they truly smiled?
Would I recognize them now? I haven’t seen them or heard their voices in six years. Interestingly, as devastated as I was to have been kicked out, I can’t say I’ve ever missed them. I missed the idea of family far more than I missed my family.
That says a lot about my home life, I’m sure.
“I don’t think I’ve ever been to a party quite like that,” Zaiden says. “Not only being held in the most grand setting but also…” He looks at Ellsworth. “I don’t know. The atmosphere. The entire vibe.”
Ellsworth nods. “I felt like I was transported in time, but instead of a lot of posturing for appearances, everyone was genuinely happy, kind, and having a good time.”
I think about Ava Delaney and how maybe that isn’t quite the truth for everyone.
“Oh, look, only two seats over here.”
Rafe snorts, and we’re watching Enfield lead Xavi to our table. He pulls a chair out for Xavi and waits for him to sit before sliding it in. He kisses Xavi’s temple before taking a seat beside him. Rafe continues to look at him with amusement.
“Have you met my uncles?” I ask.
“In passing,” Enfield says.
“This is my Uncle Ellsworth and Zaiden. Enfield is Rafe’s cousin and his husband, Xavi,” I introduce.
They exchange greetings and fill their plates with breakfast.
“Aren’t you tired of being angry?” Rafe asks Enfield.
Enfield sighs, and it looks like his shoulders sag a little. “Yeah,” he says, sounding tired. “It’s far more exhausting than not being around them at all.”
“You don’t spend your days mad,” Rafe guesses.
He snorts. “Not in the least. In reality, I’m over it.
At the end of the day, I have the love of my life.
” Enfield looks at Xavi, who gives him a beaming smile with rosy cheeks.
“Maybe in the long run, it worked out, right? But no matter how often I try to convince myself to let it go, I can’t forgive the fact that they literally fucking tricked me into marrying a man. ”
I glance at my uncles. Zaiden looks floored. Ellsworth is watching with his eyebrow raised, slowly chewing something.
“What I would love is for them to stay out of our lives. Period. I don’t want to see them again.
All it would have taken to change this situation was for them to have said that the contract was for a husband and not a wife.
And yet, that would have changed everything.
I wouldn’t be here with Xavi; I would never have agreed to that contract.
That doesn’t change the fact that I’m not going to forgive their trickery. ”
Rafe nods. “I get it. You just look tired.”
“Only when we’re around his parents,” Xavi says.
“Sucks that it’s for the entire holiday.”
Enfield huffs. “I get it. This is their family, too. But fuck’s sake. Stay away. Don’t talk to me. Don’t buy me gifts. Just stay out of my life, like my contract fucking states.”
I look at my uncles again, and I can tell they’re trying to piece it together. I laugh. “Confusing out of context, huh?”
“A little, but I think I have the gist of it,” Zaiden says.
Enfield gives them an apologetic smile. “Sorry. It’s what it sounds like. I was tricked into marrying a man when I’m straight. It turned out to be the best thing to ever happen to me, but that doesn’t mean I can convince myself to forgive my parents for their trickery.”
“Ah,” Zaiden says, nodding.
“You’re a priest, aren’t you? Is that the rumblings I heard?”
Zaiden laughs. “Not me. My husband.” He grips Ellsworth’s wrist for a minute and looks at him like he hung the stars.
“I bet God isn’t happy with me holding onto my grudge, right?” Enfield asks.
We all look at Ellsworth. I’ve shared the circumstances around his priesthood with Rafe, so I know he knows. That’s probably why he’s looking at Ellsworth with just as much irony as Zaiden and I are.
No doubt, Ellsworth is trying to think of an answer. He hasn’t offered a practiced response, which means he’s not going to say something that the Church would have him say. He’s going to say something that’s all him.
“More than looking for God’s approval, I think you need to make peace with yourself and let your soul rest. When you find that peace, you’ll also gain His approval,” Ellsworth says.
“Because peace means forgiveness,” Enfield says, sighing.
“Not necessarily,” Ellsworth says, and Enfield is surprised.
“I don’t buy into the need to forgive everyone because that’s supposedly what the Bible says.
I’ve read it, and the parts of the Bible that are most greatly taken into personal interpretation aren’t what God has said, but what fills the vast majority of the Bible—the gospels and prophets.
” He waves his hand. “You forgive actions that you deem forgivable. Not everyone deserves your forgiveness. Not all acts are forgivable. It’s easy for me to say to forgive and let go when I’m not the victim.
Same thing with lawmakers, the Church, government.
They’re all about forgiveness and looking the other way unless they’re the victim.
Then it’s all different. No one can speak to what’s right for you in any situation.
Including God. If forgiving someone because you believe that’s what He will approve of is going to further poison your soul, then it’s not worth the trade-off. ”
Silence settles around the table. Enfield stares at him with surprise. Minutes pass before he tears his eyes away from him and looks at his husband. Then at Rafe and me.
Zaiden chuckles. “El is a different kind of priest. There’s no interpretation of the Bible in him. He speaks what it says. Period. You choose how to take that information.”
“There’s a difference between what God and Jesus say and what the Bible says,” I add, earning myself nods of agreement from both Zaiden and Ellsworth.
“So many people like to take the entire Bible as God’s word, but that’s simply not the case.
God’s words are what he spoke. The rest of it is said by man. ”
“And it’s all written by man,” Ellsworth says. “Every single word.”
Rafe smiles. “And translated, mistranslated, abridged, sections removed.” He waves his hand. “Things that no one wants to talk about or acknowledge.”
Ellsworth smiles. “Exactly. Every book can teach you a lesson if you’re willing to listen.
The overall theme of the Bible can be seen as being a good person.
Treating others kindly, with compassion and respect.
And yet, so much hate derives from those claiming that they’re acting in the name of the Bible and God when in reality, they’re spreading their own interpretation, whether one they’ve come to on their own, or one preached to them. ”
Enfield sighs, and I think he looks more at peace already. There’s a softness in the way his shoulders settle that matches the small smile. “Thank you.”
“This can be said for so many things—I dare say everything—but when you’re told something, look it up.
You don’t have to believe it blindly because a person of faith or power said it’s true.
Especially when their actions are hateful and that’s in direct contrast to what they claim they stand for,” Ellsworth says.
“If a priest discourages you from looking for the passage that supports what they’re telling you, it’s not coming from a good place.
If a teacher in school tells you that you won’t find what they’re saying in a book, or more so, that the single book they’re having you read is the truth without question, it’s more likely that there’s only a smidgen of truth in what you’re reading, and it’s your responsibility to find the truth. ”
“When the government controls all the news channels, you’re likely not being fed the truth,” Rafe adds, nodding. “This lesson can be taught in all aspects of life. I haven’t thought about it like that, but I see your point.”
“Recent historical events have illustrated the difference between intelligent people and the formation of a cult,” Ellsworth says, shrugging unapologetically.
“Those who don’t question what they’re being told and choose to follow hate blindly aren’t intelligent people.
Those who follow the preachings of a priest without ever having read the Bible for themselves aren’t true Christians.
Know what you’re worshipping. Know what they actually say.
And if you still come to the conclusion that hate is the answer, perhaps it’s time to look inside yourself for a better answer. ”
“Is that what I’m doing?” Enfield asks, frowning. “Am I spreading hate?”
“I don’t think so. I apologize for making this sound like a lecture,” Ellsworth says. “It’s not difficult for me to get on this tangent.”
Zaiden laughs. “It’s really not. I’ve heard him giving this same sermon to a kitten.”
Ellsworth huffs. “I have not.”
“He has,” Zaiden loudly whispers.
We laugh.
“From what little I know of your situation, I don’t think you’re spreading hate,” Ellsworth says. “But I can still see the turmoil in you, so for your own sake, I think you need to figure out what will bring you peace. You’ve given this far too much energy already.”
Enfield sighs. “Thank you. I appreciate all that you’ve said.”
“You’re welcome.”
Rafe’s hand grips my thigh under the table, and it feels affectionate. I lean into his side, thinking about the idea of questioning everything we’re told. I imagine people don’t do that because it’s easier to be a sheep and follow blindly than to put the effort into educating yourself.
Rafe’s lips on my temple make my heart jump. I shift to meet his eye, and he’s smiling at me. We finish breakfast with quiet conversation about the party last night, and I realize that Rafe and I were too busy wrapped up in each other to have taken part in much of anything.
I’m not sorry. I won’t trade this time with Rafe for anything. As much as being with his loving family is healing my heart, being with Rafe for these handfuls of days is giving me even more. I know we’re still wrapped up in this fake relationship, but there are parts of it that might be real.
The moments behind closed doors when no one is watching us. When there are no expectations in our interactions. Those aren’t part of the arrangement.
His hands on me like this—affectionate and maybe a little possessive—aren’t for anyone else but us. No one sees his hand on my thigh. The way he’s looking at me now? Can that be faked? Is Rafe that good of an actor to fake it?
“What’s on the agenda tonight?” Zaiden asks.
“The Nutcracker ballet,” Xavi says with a big smile. “It’s amazing.”
“I’ve never been to a ballet,” Zaiden says, sharing Xavi’s smile.
I shake my head because I haven’t either. Everyone understands the premise of The Nutcracker, but if I’m not mistaken, there aren’t any words in a ballet performance. It’s not a play where there’s a script. The entire story is told through song and movement.
Will I understand what I’m seeing because I already know the story?
“The company that puts it on every year in Napa Valley is award-winning,” Rafe says. “I’ve been to a handful of ballets over the years, and this is the only one I enjoy. There’s magic in it.”
“Literally,” Enfield says, laughing. “The Nutcracker comes to life at the stroke of midnight.”
“But there’s something else about it, too,” Rafe argues. “There’s just something inherently Christmas about it. And Christmas has its own special magic, right?”
I find I’m nodding with everyone else. There is magic in the holiday, regardless of what you celebrate. Even when you’re no longer a child when the magic of the holiday is Santa delivering gifts in the night while everyone is sleeping. Even when you’re not watching kids experience that magic.
Even when you came from a household that didn’t put up a tree or celebrate the holiday more than to go to an additional Church service.
There’s still magic, and it encompasses the days surrounding Christmas. You can feel it in the air. Smell it drifting by on a current.
Feel it in the touch of someone you’ve been secretly in love with for years when finally, they’re looking at you in a way that you’ve only ever dreamed about.
His hands on you. The way he kisses you.
How he takes your body and plays you like a violin that he’s mastered since he was just able to stand on his own two feet.
There’s magic in that. Magic surrounding us now. My heart skips around when he presses his lips against mine for a soft but lingering kiss.
Magic always fades after the holidays, and we’re forced to get back to reality. How do I keep this magic all year?