Page 26 of His Elder

"So they're supposed to be alone forever."

"Not alone. They have the Church family. And if they remain faithful, those attractions will be... corrected in the next life."

The words tasted like ash. Like poison. Each syllable felt like swallowing glass.

"Corrected," Maria repeated. "Like a defect."

"It's not—" I gripped my quad harder. "It's about achieving our divine potential. Becoming like our Heavenly Father."

"Who is apparently straight."

Vance shifted beside me. I could feel his attention like heat against my side.

"The plan of salvation requires certain conditions," I said. My voice sounded wooden even to my own ears. "Exaltation comes through eternal marriage between a man and woman. That's doctrine."

"And if someone is gay and can't change? Can't want what they're supposed to want?" Maria leaned forward. "Are they just damned?"

My throat closed. The café seemed too warm suddenly, too bright. The smell of chocolate turned cloying and sick.

"They can still achieve a degree of glory," I forced out. "The terrestrial kingdom is still beautiful. They just won't have the opportunity for eternal increase. For their own family."

"Because they loved the wrong person."

"Because they couldn't fulfill the commandments necessary for exaltation."

Silence fell. Maria studied me with something that might have been pity.

"That seems cruel," she said finally. "If God made them that way."

"God didn't—" I stopped. Swallowed. Started again. "It's a trial. Like any other trial. We all have our tests."

"Some tests seem harder than others."

"The Lord doesn't give us more than we can bear."

The platitude rang hollow even as I spoke it. How many times had I heard that phrase? How many times had I repeated it to myself, alone in the dark, praying desperately for the feelings to change?

"I think," Vance said quietly, "that might not be the complete picture."

I turned to stare at him. He wasn't looking at me, just at Maria, his expression carefully neutral.

"The Church is still figuring out how to address this," he continued. "The doctrine hasn't changed, but the understanding of it continues to develop. It's... complicated."

"It sounds cruel," Maria said again.

"Yes," Vance agreed. "It does."

The agreement felt like betrayal. Like something cracking open between us.

"The gospel is perfect even if we don't understand every part of it yet," I said. My voice came out sharper than intended. "We trust in God's plan."

"Even when it condemns people for who they love?"

"It doesn't condemn—" I stopped. My hands were shaking. I pressed them flat against my quad. "The Church teaches that everyone is a child of God. Everyone has worth."

"Just not equal access to salvation."

"We should probably continue this another time," Vance said. "When we can all think about it more."