Page 54 of Omega's Faith

I stand at the window, looking out toward the main house. It’s not even visible through the trees.

Let Mr. Colborne know where I've gone.

Yes, I’m a coward. But what else was I supposed to do? Walk up to him and say, "Hey, I can't stand being near you because you make me crazy in every possible way, so I'm moving out but not really because we're still on the same estate"?

At least this way we can avoid each other and I have to avoid him because I still want him so badly it makes my teeth ache.

14. Jonah

Oh no. He does not get to do that.

I stare at poor Mrs. Atkins who's had to deliver the news.

"There’s a summer house?" I repeat, making sure I heard correctly.

"Yes, Mr. Colborne. Mr. Alexander thought you both might benefit from some space. To think."

To think. Right. More like to drink and sulk.

"Thank you." I manage, keeping my voice steady despite the fury building in my chest.

She nods and retreats, leaving me alone in the library. Now he's run away to hide in some summer house I didn't even know existed on this massive estate.

Coward.

I pull out my phone and call home. Mom answers on the third ring.

"Twice in one day?" She sounds worried. "Jonah, what's wrong?"

"He moved out." The words tumble out before I can stop them. "We had an argument and he just... he moved to another house on the property. Won't even talk to me."

Silence. Then Dad's voice in the background, asking what's happening. There's muffled conversation before Mom comes back.

"Sweetheart, your father and I think... maybe you need some help. Both of you."

"Pastor David could help," Dad's voice comes through—he must be on speaker now. "He's counseled many couples through difficult times. He understands the sanctity of marriage, what it takes to make it work."

Pastor David. Who called him a sinner at our wedding. This should go well.

But what other choice do I have? I can't fix this alone, and Alex clearly has no intention of trying.

"I'll call him," I say.

Two hours later, Pastor David sits across from me in the main house's formal living room, looking deeply uncomfortable on the silk-upholstered furniture.

“Welcome, Pastor. I could really do with your advice."

He takes in the room with obvious distaste—the crystal chandeliers, the general excess of it all. "This is... quite a place."

"It's too much," I admit. "Everything here is too much."

"Including your husband?" His eyes are sharp despite his age.

I sink into the chair across from him. "I don't know what to do. We're so different. He doesn't want children. And now he's moved out—there's another house on the property, apparently, and he's just... hiding there."

"He moved out?" Pastor David's disapproval deepens. "Without discussing it with you?"

"He had someone tell me. Couldn't even face me himself."