Page 69 of His Elder

"The only holy thing I've experienced was being loved unconditionally," I said. "By someone who saw all of me—including the parts I've been taught to hate—and didn't ask me to change. Who listened when I was lonely and held me when I was breaking and gave up everything to save me."

"That wasn't love. That was—"

"Don't." I stood. "Don't reduce what we had to transgression and sin. Yes, you heard his confession—the lie he told to protect me. But you didn't see what came before. You didn't see the way he looked at me when we were alone, or hear thethings he said when no one else was listening. You didn't witness the months of him fighting his own feelings to keep me safe. You only saw the end—the sacrifice he made to give me a second chance."

"He confessed to serious transgression—"

"He confessed to a lie to protect me!" My voice rose. "And I let him because I was too afraid to lose my family, my standing, my eternal salvation. But I've lost all of that anyway. The only question now is whether I lost it for his lie or for our truth."

President Dalton returned to his desk. Sat down heavily. "What are you asking for, Elder Price?"

"I want to request early release from my mission," I said. "Voluntary. Immediate. I can't serve a gospel I don't believe. Can't teach investigators to join a church that would destroy them for being honest about who they are. Can't pretend to have a testimony of a God whose love is conditional."

He opened a drawer. Pulled out a form I recognized—the official request for early release from mission service.

Slid it across the desk with a pen.

"If you sign this," he said quietly, "while unrepentant, while openly rejecting church doctrine... the church will convene a disciplinary council. You will be excommunicated."

"I know."

"Your father will be devastated. Your family will be ashamed. You'll lose your standing in the church, your temple blessings, your eternal family."

"I'll lose a family whose love is conditional," I said. "A church that makes people choose between authenticity and belonging. A God who asks me to hate the best part of myself." I picked up the pen. "And I'll gain the truth. And maybe—if I'm lucky—I'll find Eli and apologise and spend the rest of my life trying to be worthy of what he did for me."

"He's already been excommunicated," President Dalton said. "The disciplinary council convened three days after he returned home."

The words hit like a physical blow. Eli had already faced the council. Already been cast out. Already lost everything. They wanted him gone. They scrubbed him out like a stain.

While I'd been bearing false testimony in district meeting.

While I'd been too afraid to tell the truth.

"Then I'm even more in his debt," I said. My hand shook as I signed the form. Dated it. Pushed it back across the desk.

President Dalton looked at it for a long moment. "What will you do?"

"Go home. Face the disciplinary council. Tell the truth." I stood. "And then I'll find him. Tell him I'm sorry. That his sacrifice wasn't wasted. That I finally chose him."

"The doctrine won't change, Samuel. The church's position on homosexuality is clear. You're choosing a path that leads away from God."

"I'm choosing a path that leads toward love," I said. "Real, honest, unconditional love. If your God can't tell the difference between that and sin, then He's not a God worth serving."

President Dalton stood. Extended his hand. "I'm sorry, Elder Price. Truly. I had hoped to save you."

I shook his hand. "You can't save someone from the truth, President. You can only help them hide from it."

I walked to the door. Paused with my hand on the knob.

"I hope someday the church realizes that love—real, sacrificial, honest love—is never a sin. No matter who it's between."

"I'll pray for you," President Dalton said.

"Pray for Eli instead," I said. "He's the one who deserves it."

I opened the door. Sister Roig looked up from her desk as I passed, her expression carefully neutral, even as she handedme a ziplock bag containing my phone and a return ticket to Salt Lake City.

Outside, the Barcelona sun was bright and warm. I stood on the steps of the mission office and breathed in the city air.