Chapter 5: Stubborness

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I regretted saying yes.

The first meeting was being held this evening, and I wasn't mentally prepared.

"Why didn't you tell me they held it today?" Henry only shrugged his coat on and looked at me with a teasing smile.

"It's not so bad, Naomi. It's every Tuesday and Wednesday."

"I have to go there two days a week?!"

He nodded and grabbed the house keys off the front desk without a care that I was getting upset.

"How nice of you to share that after I committed. You knew exactly what you were doing."

I realized I might have been overreacting a bit. It's not that it upset me; I had no specific plans during those days of the week. It was just stigmatized in me to go against everything. My stubborn nature was just so entitled.

If he had told me I had to go there two days out the week from the beginning, it would have affected my decision. I can say with confidence that I would have stuck with the therapy.

"Please, just give it a try. It will be nothing like therapy." He insists and when he sees my expression drop with irritation, he obliges in the slightest. "Alright. Because it's something new to you, I won't force you to attend on Tuesdays, for now. These people, they have an understanding as deep as the depths of the sea. They do not judge, Naomi. You don't have to hide yourself from these people. Some of them happen to be your age, some of them go through the same struggles."

I felt my features morph into something ugly. Henry cringed.

"Naomi, please."

Maybe I shouldn't be so quick to retaliate against the unknown. I gave in to his will with the upmost opposition, but a willingness to try.

His smile was bright enough to light up the grays of this house that's been surfacing a long time. I could see that my decision made him happy, and that hasn't happened for a while now.

"God is good." He mumbles to himself while closing the door behind us and I roll my eyes. He's too extra about this phony religion. Sometimes, I admit, it's impossible to tolerate.

"Alright, let's go." He heads toward the street while I open the garage.

"Um, can you just tell me where the address is and I'll get there a little after you." I request and he looks at me with questioning eyes, almost like he's forgotten. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I turn on my heel and head toward my bike. I walk in with tunnel vision and quickly exit.

The audible friction of the chains sounds as I pull the bike out and stop in front of him.

He watches me for a moment before a small smile ripples his lips, but it's much too forced.

"Of course, but it doesn't mean I'm happy about it." What did he want from me? I was bending over backwards to at least try to please him, but I couldn't meet him the full way. So he had to meet me half, and that's just how life would be.

I want to tell him I'm sorry. I want to tell him I take responsibility, but I don't. It wasn't my choice to be like this.

The air becomes thin as he takes out his phone and swipes his thumb over the touch screen. Moments later, my phone vibrates. "Put that in your phone's GPS and search for the fastest route. The meeting starts at seven-thirty, so you'll have plenty of time to get there." He tells me as he makes his way toward the driver's side of the car. "Call me if anything."

I nod and watch his car take off before finding a route myself. It was only thirty minutes away.

Foundation of New Faith.

As I read it aloud, the name tickles my ears and for a moment and my thoughts race unbearably.

It's a foreign feeling, and it fills my chest, but before it can get too far, I stop myself and hop on my bike after fastening the helmet on my head. The palms of my hands sweat once I grip the bars and exhale. I try to let my mind wander elsewhere as a distraction.

It's okay. I'll be fine. I'll be okay.

As I ride round the curves and bends, my mind wonders about this place, this church I should say. And the more that happened, the more I came to despise the place without even stepping foot into its holy doors.

How could this even help me? What's the difference between this place and the building I was suffocating in just a couple of hours ago? They'll try to help me like that She Devil did. They'll try to choke the truth out of me like she did. They'll stare at me unending, hoping I'll crack and finally spill the beans.

But they'll do it worse because they deem themselves righteous.

Why am I going here again? Because I told Henry I would? Screw that.

I suddenly became aware of my surroundings, not noticing that I was by the boat port and just crossed over the bridge. I braked my tires against the gravel and turned my head, preparing for the ride back home. And if I wasn't already let down by the occurrences in my life, I surely was now.

The bridge was lifting, slowly inch by inch each second, and as I looked to my left, a line of boats was patiently waiting, one behind the other to be let through.

At this rate, I would be waiting here till nightfall. My teeth gritted together as my hands gripped the rubber on the handles of my bike. I bit my bottom lip hard and started pedaling.

~*~

Thanks for reading! God bless!

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