The First Ninety Days Ch. 13

"No, it'snot about Thursday," she said. "...Actually, no, that isn't true. Itis about Thursday. It's aboutevery Thursday. And Monday, and Tuesday, and Wednesday, and every other day. It's abouteverything, Jon."

"Oh, great. I've been married... What, ten weeks? And now I find out I've been messing up every day of the whole time."

She touched his shoulder. "No, not messing up, just... Maybe making a few missteps."

"Do you really think Thursday was a sin?" he asked.

"I... I don't know," she said. "I don't... Boy, I just talked to Pastor Pendleton about this, like, twelve hours ago. Let's see if I can remember it. Jon, I just felt that... That it wasn't the right path for us. I don't mind exploring, and we've certainly found things that we like, but... This isn't it. What we did... It was just purely about sensation."

"We've done that," he protested.

"No, we haven't," she said. "We never did anything that wasonly sensation. We've done things where we love each otherand we're... Really going at it... But never something where we're just really going at it. And that's why it's wrong for us. Everything we've ever done in the bedroom has been about love... Except this one. This wasn't about love, it was just about sex. And... I don't think there's any way we could make itbe about love. It's just too... Weird."

"But is it a sin?" he asked.

"No," she said, "it... I mean, like I said, I don't think it's rightfor us. But that doesn't mean I can condemn it totally. If other people can make it work, can turn it into something that deepens their love for each other, then how can I denounce that? We're just not one of those people."

"Fair enough," he said.

"But that just brings us right back to where we started," she said. "How comeyou aren't willing to take a chance on what I want?"

"It would strengthen our love for me totie you to the bed??"

"Yes," she said. "I know that sounds crazy, but it's true."

"What, is there something in the Bible about this too?"

"Jon, shut up. Youdo realize that almost all of our sexual relationship has been about you convincing me to try things that you knew I actually wanted in the first place, even if I didn't realize it. This is just the logical extension of that. We already said that we were going to put rules in place, that we wouldn't be allowed to do things while tied-up that we wouldn't do free... I'm submitting because Iwant to. Because you know my body better than I do, so I might as well just let you have my way with me. Because, if I do, we'llboth be happy. And because I like the idea of being helpless in your arms."

"Caitlyn, I don't know ifI like that idea. I think it's important for you not to get too—"

"Ugh!" Her frustration finally exploded out of her in a shove that rocked him back on his heels. "Jon, why can't you justtry it! Why do you have tothink all the time! Can't you once,just once, put your faith in me and believe I might know what I'm doing?"

"Because that's what I seeyou doing all the time, and you seem content to let that lead you to the grave!" he retorted.

She said nothing.

"Can'tyou think every now and then? People ask you for stuff and you just say Yes blindly without thinking through the consequences. Maybe virtue is its own reward, but that doesn't mean it compensates for what you give up to get it."

"What do I give up to get it?"

"Time with me," he said. "Time to yourself. Sanity. You're doing better now, because we're together more, but have you already forgotten what it was like when you were still with your parents? Everyone wanted everything of you. And you always felt like you'd only find yourself if you gave it to them. Well, that's justwrong, Caitlyn. The only place you're going to findyou isinside yourself. It's not from the satisfaction of serving other people. It's not from making sacrifices to make other people happy. It's from knowing who you are, what you want, and being able to say No."

"I believe in a faith that always says Yes," she said.

"Well, I can't do that," he said.

"Maybe you can'tnow," she said, "but if you give it a little time—"

"I don't meannow, I meanever," he said. "Caitlyn, the only way you know yourself is if you say No. That's the only way tohave a self: to have boundaries up where people can't cross, to draw a line in the sand and say, 'Beyond that is Me; nobody touches it without my say-so.' What do you think I've beenencouraging you to do for the last twenty months!"

"Say No," she said, feeling wooden.

"Yes," he said. "To say No. So that there's a place for you to fall back on. So that there's a place you can go when you're all Yes'd out. So that there's a place Yes cancome from. That's the other argument I have: that if you give and give and give of yourself, eventually there's no You left. You're totally willing to destroy yourself like that, and, fine, I guess I can't stop you. But it's not something I can do. Not me."

"So..." Her lips felt numb. "So, what are you saying?"

"I guess..." He sighed. "Caitlyn, I just don't think this is right for me. Christianity, I mean. Caitlyn, I will support you. I'm your husband; I love you. If you want to go to church and be involved there, I'll come with you. And I'll believe all that I can. But you can't ask me to embrace something that makes you willing to just...Destroy yourself like this. Suicide is a mortal sin. Even in pursuit of God."

Caitlyn felt a dropping sensation in her stomach, like the roller coasters she sometimes went on—as if the floor had simply gone out from under her.

This was too important to her to abandon. This was too much a part of who she was. This was too much a part of who and what she needed Jon to be. She was a Christian woman; it was her calling to love, and love, and love, no matter what it cost her. She had thought that Jon—Jon, ofall people, who hadbeen love to her for almost two years now—would understand. She had hoped that she could bring him around.If we were meant to be together, nothing could tear us apart. She could already feel tears threatening her eyes, for the umpteenth time today. If we aren't...

"Jon, I... I don't think this is right for me."

He looked at her, his eyes confused. And something else, too; something wild. Something desperate. "What do you mean?"

There was no stemming the tears now; she forced the words out as best she could. "That's... I can't be with someone who feels that way. I can't be with someone who isn't going to be with me on that journey." There were tears outside; inside, though, she felt nothing but empty. Curiously hollow, as though something had simply withered and died. "You once said that, when you marry someone, when you choose someone to walk down the road of life with, you should choose someone who's walking to the same place you are, and along the same path. If you aren't... If Jesus isn't something you're aiming for, then our paths are not the same."

"Caitlyn—"

"I don't know what we'll do about... Everything," she said, now unable to look at him. Now she was not hollow; now there was pain.Jonathan, my heart, my everything, my all... Jonathan, who knows my body better than I do, who knows myheart better than I do... Jonathan, whom I trusted... "We've spent a lot of money together, and bought things together. Maybe we can..."

"Caitlyn—"

She couldn't look at him. It was too scary to imagine what she would see.

"We'll— We'll work it out. We'll work it out."Now that we have nothing to work out anymore.

"Caitlyn, you can't mean that, you aren't—" He was reaching for her; she felt his hands on her shoulders, the brush of his chest as he tried to draw her to him. It was too much; his touch burned on her skin.Jonathan, to whom I gave everything. She shied away from him.

"I'll call you," she choked out, and ran.

She actually collided with the wall. But then, what else would you expect when you were too blinded by tears to see?

Outside, she stood in the cold, feeling more than seeing her breath frost on the evening air. She had nothing on her—no phone, no driver's license, no money, none of her homework assignments; she had not thought to grab her backpack on the way out. She didn't even have a sweater.

She could not stay out here. And she couldn't go back in. She felt almost betrayed by what she had learned about him, by what he had said; she needed this space, needed this distance, no matter what.

She didn't want to live without him.

She didn't know if she could live with him.

This thought threatened another flood of tears. Caitlyn bore down hard until she had a grip on herself.

Tears could wait. There would be plenty of time for them later.

It was a five-minute walk to the Shellview State campus. There was a pay phone there. She would call her mother. She would explain the situation, and ask if she could come back. She would be at her mother's mercy. There was no one else she could call; the only people she might trust in this situation, even remotely, were Zach and Christa Crane, and God only knew they would probably try to put them back together. Caitlyn didn't know if she could stand that right now.

It was the bed she had made for herself. Now she had to lie in it.

Caitlyn scrubbed her eyes with her sleeves, and then her nose. She lifted one foot, moved it forward, put it down. Then the other: up, forward, down. This was called walking. She knew how to do it. She had done it all her life, in fact; and most of the time she'd done it, she'd been alone.

She'd just have to get used to that again.