Delilah #2
“I was just heading to bed,” I tell him.
“I’ll walk you.” He slides his hands into his pockets while I wave goodbye to Bec and Liv.
“Goodnight,” Bec sings, in as good a mood as ever.
“Did you have a nice evening?” Maverick asks as we start walking toward his tent.
“I did.” I smile down at the ground, careful not to trip over any stray roots. “Your father is lovely.”
“He’s the best man I know.”
“I’m sure he would say the same thing about you,” I say.
Maverick stops walking abruptly. “Was that a compliment, darlin’?”
I stop too, rolling my eyes. “Don’t let it go to your head, Rebel Man.”
“Rebel Man?” he asks, his amusement obvious.
“Is that not an accurate assessment of your title?” I tease.
“I suppose so.” His mouth turns up at one end. “What did you and Bec talk about?”
“What?” My eyes go wide.
His brow quirks at the change in my tone. “I saw her follow you away from the bonfire.”
“Oh,” I breathe. “Yeah.” Despite her assurance and the fact that kissing Bec didn’t feel bad, I can’t help but feel a deep sense of shame after being raised on the narrative that being gay is unnatural.
Still, I want to be honest with him. I want him to know about this new part of me I’m exploring. “We may have kissed.”
His brows inch even higher. “You and Bec kissed?”
I nod, biting my lip. “Well, I asked if I could kiss her. She said yes.”
“And?”
“And it was nice,” I admit. “I think, maybe, I might be bisexual…” I wince as I brace myself for the outrage—for his inevitable disgust—but it never comes.
He smiles at me, his white teeth glowing dimly in the dark. “I’m glad you feel safe enough to explore that side of yourself.”
I stare up at him in shock. “You’re not… disgusted?”
A surprised laugh bursts from his mouth. “Why would I be disgusted?”
I wrap my arms around myself. “Because it’s unnatural.”
“It’s not.” He places his fingers under my chin and lifts my head. “Do you know the history of the Brotherhood’s ideology?”
I shrug. “Only what they taught us at the Institute.”
He drops his hand from my face. “Before the Reckoning, Christian nationalism and the idea of bringing back ‘traditional family values’ gained popularity. Backed by some of the wealthiest men in the country, misogyny became normalized among not only the young and vulnerable male population, but among government officials as well. Slowly but surely, small policy changes at local, state, and federal levels made a way for the Brotherhood’s vision to come to fruition. ”
“Headmistress said that feminism and career-minded women were the cause of the declining birth rate.”
Maverick rolls his shoulders like he’s warding off his irritation. “Men have been blaming women for their problems since the beginning of time. But men made the system. They have no one to blame for the patriarchy but themselves.”
He drops his hand and starts walking again, so I follow.
“Too many Christians resisted the nationalist agenda, so they pivoted. They made it less about religion and more about the declining birthrate, about ‘saving the human race.’ It was no longer an option for women to choose to abstain from marriage or have children. Those things became a requirement for people born with a uterus, regardless of their sexual orientation.”
I recall some of the stories I’ve heard from the people here. “Bec told me what happened to her.”
Maverick nods. “In New Athens, only the lucky women become wives or maids. Everyone else is sanctioned to a life of sexual slavery in one form or another.”
My stomach knots as guilt claws at my insides. I should be grateful for the life I had, for the privilege I was given as Gabriel’s wife. But truthfully, I feel more than a little bitterness when I think of my husband, of my life there. I hum quietly. “Yeah, lucky.”
“Fuck.” Maverick runs a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry, that’s not what I meant.”
I wrap my arms around myself. “No, you’re right. I didn’t experience anything close to the horrors that these women have been through.”
Maverick stops again, his hand enveloping my bicep with a gentle but firm touch. “That doesn’t mean what you’ve been through is any less horrible.”
I shrug and try to smile. “It’s fine, Maverick.”
His other hand comes to my shoulder, and his hands rub up and down on my arms slowly.
The contact warms me, literally and figuratively.
His eyes dart back and forth between mine, like he’s debating saying something else, until eventually he sighs.
“New Athens is a place of unimaginable cruelty, run by insecure men who treat women like shit just to feel better about themselves. Nothing that happened there is your fault. Nothing.”
“Whatever you say.” My smile wobbles.
“Say it,” he demands.
Tears flood my eyes. “I’m tired, Maverick.”
He shakes his head, rejecting my lame excuse. He cups my face in his large, calloused hands, and that action alone—the tenderness in it—is enough to make my tears fall.
“Say it, darlin’.” It’s less of a demand and more of a plea now, like he needs to hear it too.
I look up at him through blurry eyes. “It’s not my fault.”
“Again,” he urges, his voice a deep murmur.
“It’s not my fault,” I repeat, more firmly this time.
“That’s right.” His thumb wipes away a stray tear.
“Thank you,” I say, shoulders slumping as I exhale in release.
He exhales too, his expression unreadable as he releases my face. “There’s something else I need to tell you.”