The Savior of the Font

Chapter 11

I'm sure Tim was hoping for a more joyous reunion. In our few talks on the phone, I'd never gone into detail on why Faith left. That was her story to tell. But that means I've spent the last several days knowing what he was in for when he finally learned the truth and I knew there was no way he'd take it any better than I did.

His apartment is pretty posh. It's on the twenty-fifth floor of a luxury highrise in the middle of uptown. The furniture is all pretty lavish as well. This is all stuff he never could have afforded before the Rapture, though I'm embarrassed to say it all looks pretty quaint compared to my upbringing. When half the world went floating it opened up a lot of vacancies in the city, prices dropped like a stone and, suddenly, luxury was affordable on a modest salary.

I'm sitting on the couch next to Faith, who has her hands folded in her lap. Jacob is in the lounge chair across from us. Tim is a good distance away across the living room, leaning on his left fist against the picture window overlooking the city. His eyes are cast down and I can see that his right hand, also clenched in a fist, is turning white and trembling. He keeps taking a deep breath like he's about to say something but then just lets it back out.

"I know what you're feeling, Tim," I say with as much condolence as I can convey. "I only found out a few days ago, and..."

"Three months," he mutters. Tim doesn't even sound like himself, and I can tell by his tone that a volcano of rage is only barely being held back.

"I know you're not going to believe me," Faith begins, "but it wasn't your fault."

"Three months!" he shouts. Tim turns, grabs a book off the dining table, and hurls it across the room. It smacks into the front door with a loud thwack. Jacob pops to his feet and runs over to him. Tim is reluctant to accept his embrace at first, but eventually gives in to a hug from his boyfriend. I slip my hand into Faith's and give a squeeze.

"And we did nothing," Tim says with a muffled voice. His face is buried in Jacob's shoulder. "Tortured, for three months, and we did nothing." The conversation goes on much like when I first learned the truth. Faith insists over and over that none of us should blame ourselves, that it was all by design, and that it all turned out for the best in the end. He alternates between arguing back and crying in Jacob's arms. In his performance I see every stage of this reveal I already went through. To be honest, I'm not off this ride yet, and I fear I never will be. Jacob leads Tim to their bedroom, letting us know on the way that he'll be alright and just wants them to be alone for a minute. The bedroom door shuts and Faith leans her head against the back of the couch.

"I shouldn't have come back," she says exasperatedly.

"Quit saying that," I request. "I went through the same thing, but I'm still glad I know. Just let him have his moment to process it."

"I need some air," Faith says as she stands. I follow as she walks to the sliding glass door out to the terrace. She slides it open and a blast of hot, muggy air hits my face. The once muffled sounds of engines, horn honks, and sirens fill my ears. Faith covers hers for a moment. It is a lot noisier here than on the farm. It's evening now and the sun is low to our right, casting an orange hue across the sky. The west-facing sides of the buildings reflect the sunlight, making them look like pillars of light. I hope she finds this as beautiful as I do.

Faith leans on the railing and looks down. "It's been a while since I was this high up," she says. "It's a little disorienting." I wrap my right arm around her waist and lean on the railing with her. For a while, we just stand there looking at the skyline. I wish so much that our hearts and minds weren't so heavy, and that we could just enjoy this moment of serenity.

"So, since I won't be staying at the hotel, I guess you won't mind me shacking up with you?" Faith asks with a coy smile.

"I already talked to Tim and he's going to let you use the spare bedroom here," I answer, hoping she won't carry this conversation any further.