Chapter 10
The fallout is immediate.
It’s public and ugly. Church friends stop smiling. Some stop speaking.
I know it hits him hard. He doesn’t pretend it doesn’t.
We don’t hide. We don’t sneak. We don’t whisper.
I try and give him his space. But texts fall silent. It’s a lot.
Josh writes one last letter.
Not because he has to.
Because he wants to.
It arrives on our porch and I tear open the seal.
I used to think obedience was the same as goodness.
I was wrong.
I read it slowly.
You weren’t a temptation.
You were the truth.
I can feel him writing it. Hear his voice. I’m there with him.
The letters weren’t a substitute for love.
They were proof of it.
And this time—
No one is coming to take him away.
