Page 65 of His Elder

Her apartment was small but bright—white walls covered in art posters, bookshelves overflowing, a easel by the window with a half-finished painting of the Sagrada Família.

"Sit," she said, gesturing to a worn couch. "Do you want tea?"

"No. Thank you."

She sat across from me in a mismatched armchair. "What's going on?"

"I wanted to apologize," I said. "For the lessons. For teaching you things I'm not sure I believe anymore."

Maria tilted her head. "Where's the other Elder? The one who always looked like he'd rather be anywhere else?"

The question hit me like a fist to the chest.

“Eli,” I said. My voice came out rough. "His name was Eli.”

"Right. Eli.” She leaned forward. "He's not with you anymore?"

"No."

"What happened?"

I opened my mouth. Closed it. Tried to find a version of the truth that wouldn't damn me.

But I was so tired of lying.

"He fell in love with me," I said quietly. "Or I fell in love with him. I don't know who fell first. Maybe it was both of us at the same time."

Maria's eyes widened slightly, but she didn't interrupt.

"We tried not to. Tried to stay obedient, keep the rules, pretend we could just be companions and missionaries and nothing more." My hands were shaking. "But we couldn't. And when it all fell apart, he took the blame. Told President Dalton he'd manipulated me, seduced me, that I was innocent and he was the predator."

"But that wasn't true."

"No. We both chose it. Both wanted it. But he knew they'd destroy us both if the truth came out, so he lied. Made himself the villain so I could stay."

"And you let him."

The words weren't accusatory. Just factual. But they cut deeper than any condemnation.

"I let him," I confirmed. "I stayed silent while they sent him home in disgrace. While President Dalton told me I'd been led astray by a manipulative apostate. While everyone looked at me with pity instead of condemnation." My voice broke. "I let him sacrifice himself for me because I was too afraid to lose everything."

Maria was quiet for a long moment.

"What did you lose?" she asked finally.

"What?"

"By staying. By accepting his sacrifice. What did you lose?"

I thought about the last three weeks. The emptiness. The sleepless nights. The testimony I couldn't bear. The Spirit I couldn't feel.

"Everything," I whispered. "I lost everything anyway. Just more slowly."

"And him? Eli? What did he lose?"

"Everything. His mission, his standing in the church, his family's respect. They'll have convened a disciplinary council by now. He's probably been excommunicated."

"For loving you."