He Loved Me First ✓

He Loved Me First (1)

Chapter 1

I've had a bit of what one could say a troubled past. My story isn't a pretty one, but I feel it's one that needs to be told. I'll start at the very beginning and get the boring stuff out of the way quickly. It will be as painless as ripping off a bandage, I promise.

My name is Oliver James Watts. I was born July 25, on the feast of St. James, my patron saint. My parents are Ella (Fitzgerald) Watts and Andrew Watts. I have a little sister who is three years younger. Her name is Alice, pronounced Alyssa.

The trouble in my story began around the time my mother was writing Simply Enchanted. She captured some of the bad, but not even close to all of it. This story will capture not quite all, but a lot more than hers did. It's important to know the back-story, in order to fully understand why the end was the way it was.

When I was in high school, around my junior year, I began rebelling, like many teenagers do, against everything. My parents, my faith, everything. My solid roots were crushed and I didn't look back on what I lost. I simply didn't care, and that was a big part of the problem.

I may want to tell you right now that this will probably be a very short story. I don't see the purpose of drawing things out to no end. I will get straight to the point, if at all possible.

The first event captured in my mother's third book was when we drove down to Uncle Ethan's house to solve a dispute between him and his high school girlfriend, because their children were not allowed to be together thanks to her. We were all in the car going to her house, and the rest of my family was praying the rosary. I never did, at this time. I thought it was very annoying, and when Uncle Ethan asked if they did that every day, I said, "Yeah. They do." I was very annoyed, and you could tell it in my voice. I knew I worried my parents, because I heard several conversations about me when I was supposed to be sleeping.

These conversations were pretty regular things, and the very first one was months before this event just described. I heard my mother's voice from the living room. I snuck out of my room and carefully crept down the hall to hear better. "Andrew, what are we going to do about him?" It was obvious the 'him' was me.

My dad sighed, "I think we should let it go, for right now. I don't think there is anything we can do about it. I know these things annoy him, and they annoyed me too, when I was really little. I was glad when we became Lutheran for that reason. I do think he will come back around." He wasn't promising anything, and I was. I was promising I would never come back around to those stupid practices of theirs. Thanks be to God that promise was broken.

"Okay," my mother said. "I trust you on this." She was still sobbing. Mom, what are you so worried about? I had thought. If I had actually asked that question I know now that the answer would have been "your salvation."

Another event mentioned in her book, albeit vaguely, was the car ride with Uncle Ethan when we went to get Jeremy. I know he had to have said something about the conversation, but not much. I will give you the whole thing, because I was actually there for it.

He told me to come with him, and smiled wickedly when my mother told him he chose the wrong family to kidnap from, because she knew where he lived. We both know I wasn't being kidnapped.

"So. Mr. Watts," Uncle Ethan began, "We have to talk."

"Why?" I asked. I didn't much care for what he had to say.

"I know all about troubled pasts, Oliver," he told me.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Maybe I was lying, but I didn't care.

He sighed. "This won't be easy for me, but I know this will mean more to you coming from someone other than your parents."

"I don't know what you're talking about," I repeated.

"You know exactly what I'm talking about." I knew he was getting angry at me, because there was a growl in the midst of those words. Good, I thought, Maybe he won't want to talk now. To my surprise and utter distaste, he went on, "I'm blessed that Jeremy isn't as rebellious as you are."

I narrowed my eyes at that statement, "Blessed?"

"Oliver, you need to know that your parents are in the right. They are on the side of right, and you no longer are."

"I don't want to hear this," I said.

"I know you don't, but you need to hear it."

"No."

"Oliver, God is real, and He loves you. Turn around. It's never too late to do so."

"I'm not listening."

"I know you're not, and that's the problem."

"I don't see it as a problem," I said. "Why should I believe anyway? What proof is there?"

"He is there, Oliver, whether you believe or not."

"I grew up hearing this nonsense. I don't need it from someone I thought I trusted," I said.

"You can trust me," he said.

"Oh, really?" I asked, "Then what's the meaning of this?" I pointed to his phone, which was recording our conversation. "Are you going to send it to my mom for her new book?" I accused, crossing my arms.

"I was going to," he said with a sigh, "But now I don't think I should. It won't help her worrying." He tossed me the phone, "Here, take it. Now you know you can trust me."

I deleted the recording and turned the phone off. We lapsed into silence.

"You know, I didn't realize how big this problem was until I talked to you about it. I don't know what I can do about this."

"So don't do anything."

"Oliver, I will not sit here watching you choose hell over heaven!"

"I will not sit here listening to this!" I said. We were at his house now, and I got out of the car and slammed the door. I didn't care that it was Blake's car, not Uncle Ethan's. I went in the house and went to the guest room that was temporarily mine.

A few minutes later, I heard two sets of footsteps race to the car. I was left alone in the house, and that was just how I wanted it.