Tough Love (11 page)

Giving our relationship my all meant giving him all of me, I decided in that moment. Not that I didn’t understand what having sex outside marriage meant to my faith; I did. But after being with Brendan, even though we hadn’t slept together, I felt like I had already fallen from grace. If having sex with Micah was a sin, at least I was committing it for a good reason.

I rolled over on to my side and began to kiss him. It was only a matter of seconds before Micah was kissing me back. The excitement between us grew, and I was glad that his bedroom door was shut.

“Micah,” I whispered, “I want you to be my first. It’s how I want to thank you.”

With difficulty, he forced himself to stop kissing my neck to ask, “Are you sure?”

Rather than respond with words, I let my fingers to do the talking. I unbuttoned his shirt while his lips returned to mine with fervor, and we allowed the passion to take over.

Suddenly I didn’t have any more questions. There was just the two of us. There was just me, giving a priceless gift to the man who loved me above all others.

As Micah and I lay unclothed on his bed in each other’s arms later, I tried to reconcile the thoughts that had led to my decision. It wasn’t that I regretted it--I didn’t in the least--but I also thought about my true motives. I told myself that I was doing it for Micah, to give him something that I had never given to Brendan.

Was that really it, though? Was that the true reason? What if I had made that choice to spite Brendan? To make him jealous somehow? I knew I would never see him again, but having sex with someone else helped me feel like I had something to hold over his head. Something that might make him think twice about leaving me in the first place.

I heard Micah’s breathing slow and then turn to light snores next to me. I smiled to myself, realizing how content he must be at that moment. His motives were true and honorable, both attributes I was sure Brendan had never possessed. So what was it I kept searching for? I could think of no way to justify my relationship, or my feelings, when it came to Brendan. Yet I missed him and still loved him.

Once I was sure that Micah was sound asleep, I slipped out from under him and got dressed. The house was quiet (a sign his mom and brother had gone out), and I didn’t want to wake Micah by turning on the television, so after writing him a short note, I went for a walk.

I thought about how everyone always told me, “Sex changes things.” When you know that things are about to change anyway, what does it matter? I had given myself to Micah as a gift and did not expect anything in return; besides, I figured he had nothing else to give.

When I got back to his house, Micah was awake and having some leftover cake. I sat down across from him at the kitchen table and leaned across for a kiss.

“Did you have a nice walk?” he asked, feeding me a bite.

“Yes, I did. It’s such a beautiful day, and you were so peaceful. I just couldn’t bring myself to wake you.”

“Guess the party took more out of me than I thought. Well, the party and something else.” He winked.

I felt the blush return to my cheeks before reminding him that my mom was coming to pick me up. We finished up the cake that was on his plate and went outside to wait on the porch.

“I didn’t think this day could get any better, but then you surprised me in such a wonderful way.” Micah grabbed my hand. “So now it’s my turn. Is there anything I can do to thank you?”

I leaned my head on his shoulder. “No, there isn’t anything; I don’t even
want
anything. It was a gift, and you don’t pay back a gift.” Just then I saw Mom’s car pull into the driveway. “Guess that’s my cue. I’ll call you later tonight, okay? Get some more sleep. Bye.”

“Bye,” he said with a kiss.

The drive home was nothing spectacular, just Mom asking me about the party and other small talk. The minute I got home, I ran upstairs and took out my diary.

I put my diary back under my mattress (my super-secret hiding place) and lay down to think about what I really wanted for my future. I knew I wanted to attend college and become a teacher; it had always been my passion, and I was not going to lose sight of that now. I also hoped for marriage and motherhood, though I had no idea when those would come. I did know one thing--Micah was not the one. The more time I spent with him, the more I understood we were on two very different paths. Not only that, but we were traveling those paths at different rates of speed. And though he was more than two years my senior, I was already ahead of him. I was going to have to do something, and it was going to have to be soon.

A couple of weeks later, I found myself face to face with Micah. I had been gathering strength and courage to break up with him since the night of his party. I knew telling him the truth was going to be the best option, even if it was full of clichés: it’s me, not you, you’re better off without me, blah, blah, blah.

We were sitting on my bed holding hands. His wavy hair brushed the back of his collar, just the way it did on prom night. The memories of prom made my eyes sparkle with tears.

“What’s wrong? Why are you crying?”

“I have some things I need to talk with you about, and it’s making me sad. I know it sounds trite, but there really isn’t any easy way to do this. I need to take some time and explain things but I need you to not interrupt, okay?”

When he nodded, I continued with love in my voice. “My sweet Micah, you have been so good to me and I don’t think I have been good to you. For most of our relationship, I’ve been lying to you. I’ve known for some time now that I was never truly in love with you, but I didn’t want to be alone so I continued to play the part.” I felt the tears on my cheeks but knew that I had to continue for Micah’s sake.

“I’m so sorry. I know that I’ve hurt you with my words, if nothing else. I just cannot go on like this anymore. I know deep in my heart that I’m not meant to marry you, so I don’t think that I should waste any more of your time. Can you ever forgive me?”

By now I was practically sobbing to the point that I was not sure Micah could even understand me. My heart was breaking for both of us, because I knew this was hurting him, yet it was so very necessary.

Once again, Micah proved that I did not deserve him when he wiped the tears from my cheeks and lifted my chin to meet his eyes.

“Janessa, of course, I forgive you. I know you don’t think I deserve you, but you have been good to me, too. Please don’t be so upset.” He lifted my hands and kissed where our fingers were laced together. “I forgive you and I will always love you.”

Micah drew me into an embrace and allowed me to cry on his shoulder. I could not believe what was happening. What was wrong with me, throwing away this wonderful guy? Yet I could not deny the truth that Micah and I were just not meant to be.

“You know what would get me upset?” he asked while stroking my hair. “If you said that you could not be my friend. That would be heartbreaking for me, Janessa. I don’t think I can make it without you in my life in some way.”

I pulled back from him; it was my turn to look into his eyes.

“You have my word that we will stay friends. I’ve given you a gift I could never give to another guy, and nothing can change that. You will always have that piece of me, and I’m not ashamed of that Micah. I’m proud of that.”

And so we began a new phase of our relationship. I felt better once things were out in the open, and the break-up did not seem to faze Micah. He still attended church with us and was even present at my high school graduation party a year later.

THE SECOND DAY of my visit was very long. I spent over ten hours at the hospital, most of it in Brendan’s room. He asked me dozens of questions and wanted to know details of my life since we’d lost touch. He seemed especially interested in my marriage, making sure Nate was a good husband.

Aimee, who had been sitting with me for a while, chimed in. “I don’t mean to be rude, but he’s a much better man than you were.”

Brendan looked over at her and nodded. In that gesture, he was not only saying he was happy for me, but also that he agreed and was sorry.

I turned to Aimee. “Do you think you could give us a few minutes alone?”

“Sure.”

Once she was gone, I faced Brendan. “We both have regrets, but that's part of why I'm here. I don't want you to die without knowing I forgive you.”

He raised his eyebrows, shock and inquiry on his face.

“I know it sounds crazy, but it's true. I've worked really hard on moving past everything. And though the past five years haven't been easy--” My voice broke then, and I started to cry. “I'm proud of myself.”

Brendan, silent tears coming from his eyes, reached his arm over to hold my hand. I smiled and accepted it, letting him know I'd meant what I said. It wasn't that I had forgotten all the pain he put me through, or even that I had forgiven everything. But I had accepted that we were both to blame for our relationship.

THE KNOCK SEEMED like any other knock, on any other day, so I let Daddy answer the door.

“Janessa, it’s butt head,” Daddy said as he came back into the living room.

I rose from my chair and laughed. “According to you, that could be any boyfriend I’ve ever had,” I joked while looking back at him over my shoulder. When my eyes met his, I could tell that it was no laughing matter; the person waiting at the door was only there to hurt me.

As I stood in the doorway looking at Brendan, totally unable to speak, my mind took me back to a conversation I had had with Aimee a few weeks prior.

“Grandma Nancy called today,” she said. We were in our favorite place: sitting on the front porch swing.

“Oh? What’s new with her? Are the girls okay?”

She nodded. “Yes, the girls are fine. She did have some news, though.”

“Really?” I asked with raised eyebrows.

“Yep. Brendan called her last week. He’s been sick, and his T-cells are down--way down, and they have been for a while now.”

I could feel all of the color drain from my cheeks as my brain processed Aimee’s words.
Not enough T-cells…showing a pattern.
There would only be one reason that Aimee was telling me this.

“Oh, my God,” I sighed bringing both hands up to my mouth. “Oh God,” I repeated. “HIV.”

Not even a year prior, the world-renowned basketball player Magic Johnson had held a press conference to announce he was HIV positive. There wasn’t much known about HIV/AIDS at the time other than it was an almost immediate death sentence. It had run rampant through the homosexual, bisexual and drug using communities. Magic’s announcement proved two things: it was no longer a gay man’s disease, and nobody was immune. After all, if a millionaire basketball hero could contract it, we all could.

Now, I stood looking at Brendan. All of the emotions I felt at that moment smashed into each other. There was disbelief and shock, but also anger that he would show up here. And then I felt something I was not prepared for: longing.

After all these months of not seeing him, I longed to reach out and touch him. To stroke his cheek, run my fingers through his hair, to kiss his lips. But then I thought of the pain. Of how he had left me for two men and moved to Florida, just when I thought we were getting closer. And the trouble he’d caused my family: I did not want to put them through that again. I knew I had a decision to make. I could give into the longing, or I could stand my ground. I decided that I would be strong. I spoke first.