Page 74 of His Elder

I stared at my coffee. "There is no plan. Not anymore."

"Then why economics?"

"Because it's safe," I said, the truth spilling out before I could check it. "Because when I got home, my father cut me off. Completely. No tuition. No housing. No support. I was living in my car for three months." I looked up at him. "I chose economics because I need a degree that guarantees I can get a job. I need to know I'll never be that helpless again. It's not a passion. It's survival."

Eli’s expression softened. The cynicism slipped, revealing a flash of the compassion I remembered. "I didn't know."

"You couldn't have."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't." I shook my head. "Don't apologize. You don't get to apologize for what happened."

"Why not?"

"Because you sacrificed yourself to protect me. You lied to President Dalton. Took full responsibility. Let them send you home and excommunicate you just so I'd have a chance to stay." I stopped, my throat aching. "And I wasted it. I let you believe I'd chosen the church. I let weeks go by before I told the truth. You don't get to apologize when I'm the one who failed you."

Eli leaned back in his chair. "You didn't fail me, Sam."

"I stayed silent."

"You were terrified."

"That's not an excuse."

"It's a reason." Eli ran a hand through his hair. "You were nineteen. Your entire identity was wrapped up in being the golden boy. I knew what I was asking when I took the blame. I knew the cost."

"And I should have paid it with you."

"You did. Eventually." Eli met my eyes. "I heard about your disciplinary council. About your family."

"From who?"

"Your mom called mine. About a month after I got home. Wanted to commiserate about their disappointing sons who'd thrown away their salvation for 'perversion.'" His mouth twisted. "My mom was very sympathetic. They bonded over it."

I closed my eyes. "Eli—"

"It's fine. I'm fine. She remarried. Started over. I'm apparently dead to her and her new eternal family." He said it flatly.Matter-of-fact. Like he'd practiced saying it until it stopped hurting. "But yeah. I know you came out. Know they excommunicated you. Know you're on your own."

"Then you know I tried to find you."

"I know you called my mom. She told me. Called me from her new number specifically to tell me some 'predatory ex-missionary' was trying to contact me and that I should block you."

I flinched.

"I didn't," Eli said quietly. "Block you, I mean. You never even had my number, and I didn’t have yours.”

"I tried everything. Social media. Church contacts from Vegas. I even contacted the mission office to see if they'd forward a letter."

"Did they?"

"No. President Dalton said it would be 'inappropriate and potentially harmful to both parties.'"

Eli laughed. Sharp and humourless. "Of course he did."

We sat in silence.

I watched him cradle his coffee cup. Noticed his hands were stained with charcoal. Noticed the callus on his right middle finger. Noticed he still bit his thumbnail when he was anxious.