22. Robin #2
Another knock echoed through the room as I stood there with my hand on the handle. I closed my eyes and took a slow breath.
When I opened the door, I saw him. Micah.
I wanted to yell and rant and rave but I couldn’t.
He looked terrible. His hair was a mess, his glasses sat crooked on his nose, and there were dark circles beneath his eyes that hadn't been there yesterday.
The button-down shirt from Thanksgiving had been replaced with a faded sweatshirt, but he still looked like he'd aged several years since I'd seen him in the restaurant parking lot.
I hated that my immediate reaction wasn't satisfaction. Some stubborn, traitorous part of me saw how miserable he looked and felt bad for him.
He lied. He'd let me build an entire relationship around an incomplete picture.
Micah stood in the doorway with his hands shoved awkwardly into his pockets while I held the door open and wondered if this was how hostage negotiators felt during particularly difficult situations. Eventually I stepped aside.
"Come in."
The words surprised both of us. I wasn't entirely sure why I said them, and judging by the surprised look on his face, he wasn’t either.
Micah entered with a questioning look that flickered for a moment with hope.
I closed the door behind him and turned to find him standing awkwardly in the middle of my living room.
The familiarity of it struck me. He'd been here dozens of times.
We'd cooked together in that kitchen and fallen asleep on that couch. We’d spent entire evenings talking about everything, except for one very important detail.
Now it felt like we were strangers. The silence stretched.
Finally, Micah exhaled slowly and rubbed a hand across the back of his neck.
"I'm sorry."
The apology hung between us.
"I know that's not enough," he continued before I could respond. "But I am."
I folded my arms across my chest. "You lied to me." The words came out flatter than I expected.
"I know. And I will never forgive myself for hurting you."
I let out a little huff.
"I'd like to explain."
I shook my head immediately.
"Please, I just—"
"No." I cut him off. "Seriously. Why would I believe anything you say right now?"
His mouth closed. Eventually he nodded again. “That’s fair.”
Something inside me snapped. The calm acceptance was somehow making everything worse.
"Don’t do that." The words burst out before I could stop them.
Micah blinked.
I took a step forward. "I don't want fair, Micah. I want to know how I got this so wrong."
The anger I'd spent most of the day directing at digital zombies surged back to the surface all at once. Apparently, several hours of simulated violence had not been as therapeutic as advertised.
"You didn’t get everything wrong."
The confession came out sharper than I intended. "I told you about Lila. I told you about Ascension. I told you exactly what that church did to people I care about."
His expression tightened. "I know."
"You knew. You sat there and listened while I talked about your family."
The guilt on his face was immediate.
“You’re right. You’re right about all of it. I was a coward. I couldn’t stand up to my family, and even worse, I couldn’t tell you the truth.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“No, it’s the truth. I’m finally telling the truth, even if it’s too late.
The truth is that I haven’t believed in the church for years.
I’ve just been going through the motions because it’s easier.
I live a double life because I was so afraid of my family's disapproval. You changed everything for me, Robin.”
I swallowed the emotion that was currently stinging my sinuses. I would not cry.
“Clearly I didn’t if you could still lie to me.”
“Just being around you made me stronger. You’re so brave. You don’t care what people think of you. I wanted to be like that. I told my family before dinner that I was done. I will no longer attend that church. I will be honest about who I am. I was going to tell you last night.”
“And that’s supposed to make me feel better? You still lied to me all this time. How am I supposed to believe a word you say?”
He blew out a shaky breath and closed his eyes. For a long moment neither of us spoke. Then he opened his eyes and pinned me with his sad gaze.
"I wouldn’t blame you if you never forgive me… but I was just wondering… if maybe you could forgive me."
I stared at him Finally I laughed. "You cannot be serious."
"Robin—"
"No. Absolutely not."
I threw my hands into the air. "You lied!"
His shoulders sagged. "I know. I won’t do it again."
I was so stunned by the statement that for a second, I forgot how language worked. Then outrage arrived to fill the void.
"That is your defense?"
"It's not a defense."
"It sounds a lot like a defense."
Micah dragged a hand through his hair. "I know how it sounds."
"Good."
"Because it sounds terrible."
"You’re right about that."
For the first time all evening, frustration flashed across his face, but I could tell it was at himself, not me. "I should have told you."
"I know."
He closed his eyes briefly. When he opened them again, he looked exhausted.
"It's complicated."
That did it. Of all the possible phrases he could have chosen, somehow those two words managed to irritate me most.
I stared at him. Then I laughed again. "Complicated?"
"It is."
"No."
I pointed at him. "You're the son of a megachurch pastor." Then I pointed at myself. "I'm stealing money from that church. Do you know for a moment I thought that maybe you told them. I came home and checked to make sure you didn’t.”
Micah froze. "What?"
His confusion lasted exactly one second. Then understanding dawned. The expression that crossed his face looked almost offended. "Robin, I would nev—"
I held my ground. “And I’m just supposed to believe that now? Believe I can trust you to keep my secret when I couldn't even trust you to be honest about who you are!”
“I didn’t tell them.”
I searched his face. Instead, I found myself staring at the same man who had spent weeks showing up exactly as himself.
"I would never do that." His voice had gone quiet. "I'm glad you're doing it."
I believed him. I dropped onto the couch. I couldn’t do this anymore. Micah sat down but made sure to perch on the other end of the couch.
Sitting there with Micah in my living room, I was forced to confront a truth I hadn't wanted to examine. I no longer knew what part of this relationship had been a lie. Even though I believed him, I would have to look at our entire relationship through the lens of him being a Nottingham.