Erasing Faith by Julie Johnson

Author:Julie Johnson
Language: eng
Format: azw3, epub
Published: 2014-12-03T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twenty-Eight: FAITH

RUN WILD

I was curled into a ball on the window seat in my bedroom with a large glass of wine in hand, listening to the mournful strains of Christina Perri’s Distance when I heard the front door open.

“Faith?” Margot called.

I took a large swallow of wine, listening to the sound of her approaching footsteps.

“You home?”

My bedroom door creaked ajar and Margot’s head popped through.

“Hey! There you are,” she said, walking into the room and settling in on the cushion beside me. “Didn’t you hear me calling you?”

“Sorry,” I murmured, staring at my toes. I really needed to repaint them — the deep blue Margot had applied before my date last week was already chipping.

She was silent for a moment. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” she asked finally.

I sighed. “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me.”

I took another sip of wine. “I don’t even want to say it out loud.”

“Is this about Wes?”

I nodded miserably.

“What’d he do this time? Bring you to practically the brink of orgasm and then bail with a lame excuse about having to work again?”

I narrowed my eyes at her.

“Okay, no.” She ran one hand through her pixie cut, mussing it instantly. “Did he force you to scale another tall building or monument and then kiss you at the top?”

I cracked a smile. “No.”

“Just tell me,” she whined. “I hate guessing.”

“Fine.” I straightened my shoulders out of the hunch they’d sunk into and braced myself for her reaction. “He…”

“Yeah?” Margot prompted.

“He kind of…”

She made an impatient hand gesture.

“…married me.” I winced, anticipating her response.

When she didn’t say anything, I glanced over and saw that her jaw had dropped open and her round eyes had zeroed in on my left hand like a laser beam. I let her absorb the news for almost a full minute in silence until, finally, her gaze refocused on my face and she reached out a hand toward my wine.

“I’m gonna need a sip of that before this conversation goes any further.”

I smiled and passed her the goblet, watching as she took a large swig.

“Now,” she said, turning to face me fully. “Start at the beginning and tell me everything. If you leave out a single detail I’ll eat all the Nutella in our pantry and play Justin Bieber songs on full volume for the next six months.”

My face contorted into a horrified expression at the thought of such torture. I quickly reclaimed my wine and launched into the story, making sure not to scrimp on the finer points — because, obviously, I wasn’t about to jeopardize my Nutella. I told her everything: the Anna altercation, the ride to Gyula, the festival, the gypsy’s tent. When I finished, she stared at me for nearly a minute with a bizarre look on her face.

“So...” I asked in a tentative voice. “What do you think? Because, honestly, any insight would be helpful right about now.”

Margot looked deeply into my eyes. “Let me get this straight…” Her voice was more serious than I’d ever heard it.

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