Chapter Forty-three

“You’re too good to me,” Corinne said.

Enoch had gotten off work early and brought groceries to Corinne’s apartment. (He said he was going to make something other than mush, just to prove that he could.) He’d kissed her from the front door to the kitchen. Kissed her over his bag of groceries. And now Corinne was leaning against the counter, watching him wrangle a raw chicken.

“I’m aiming for ‘exactly good enough,’” Enoch said. “Where are your knives?”

“I don’t have knives.”

“How can you not have knives?”

“I told you that I didn’t have anything.”

“Yeah, but I thought you still had knives. Everybody has knives.”

“You sound like Alicia. She bought me a pizza stone today. Can you butcher that chicken with a pizza stone?”

“Oh—” Enoch looked up at her. “Alicia’s going to invite you over to play cards Friday night.”

“She already did. I let her down easy.”

Enoch lowered his eyebrows. “Why’d you do that?”

“Because one of us had to.”

“I don’t see why.”

Corinne cocked her head at him. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah.” He was serious. “I thought you had fun last time. We both did.”

“I did, but—Well, that was a fluke. We can’t do that again.”

“Why not?”

“Enoch.”

“Corinne.”

“We can’t go on double dates with my brother.”

He shrugged his big shoulders. “It’s just cards.”

“It isn’t. Alicia’s trying to fix us up!” Corinne’s voice was strained. “She thinks you’re still in love with me.”

“Well, I am!”

“Well…” Corinne tried not to let that distract her. “How are Shawn and Alicia going to feel if they find out we’re secretly together?” Her voice was getting higher.

So was his. “I think they’ll be happy for us!”

“No, they won’t,” Corinne squeaked. “No one is going to be happy for us—are you kidding?”

“No. I’m not kidding.” He was still holding the raw chicken. “I sincerely believe that your family wants you to be happy. I think they want me to be happy, too, God bless them.”

“They want me to be in the church, Enoch.”

“Only because they love you.”

“No, I know. I know that.” Corinne sounded pained. She felt pained. “But it’s not happening. You’re not my path back to … the path. If anything, I’m luring you away from it.”

“You’re a person, not a temptation.”

“Oh, you know what I mean!”

“Corinne—” He dropped the chicken onto a pan and shook his hands over it. They were covered in slime. “I don’t understand why you’re fighting this so hard. Your family loves you. I love you. Jesus loves you.”

She held up her palms between them. “Whoa-whoa-whoa with the Jesus.”

Enoch rolled his eyes. “Don’t call Him ‘The Jesus.’”

“Why are we even talking about Jesus?”

“Because I don’t understand why you’re so allergic to the entire concept of church!”

“I’m not allergic. I was kicked out, remember?”

“You’re allowed to come back! Everyone would be thrilled if you came back.”

“Not me. I don’t want to come back. I’ve already told you this—”

“I know, but—”

“But what, Enoch?”

“Well, I don’t get it!” He rubbed his forehead with the back of his wrist. “How would your life change if you came back, except for the better? It’s not like you’d have to quit smoking and watching porn. You don’t even drink.”

“That’s not—”

“Your family would take you back with open arms.” Enoch turned toward her completely. He was still holding his hands up. “And I’d be there with you. Right there. For Sunday dinners. And cards at your brother’s house. And Christmas. We could be a family. You and me.”

Corinne pressed her lips between her teeth. She wanted to scream at him. She should have known … that he wasn’t listening, that he thought he’d be able to change her mind. Fucking evangelicals. Changing your mind was their whole thing! Their raison d’être! She knew this. She knew it. She’d lived it.

“We’re never going to have that,” Corinne said with as much finality as she could manage. “Your family is never going to be happy to see me. My family is never going to think I’m good for you. We don’t get to have that.”

“Why not?!” He was shouting. Enoch would shout at her if she pushed him hard enough.

Corinne raised her voice: “Because I’m not coming back to church! I’m never coming back!” She held out her palms and spread her fingers. “I was miserable there—I never belonged. Getting kicked out may have been the worst thing that happened to me, but it was also the best. I never would have gone to school otherwise. I never would have had my life.”

“You don’t have to give up your life, Corinne.” Enoch sounded bitter. Fed up. He turned to the sink and knocked the water on with his wrist. “If you could just set aside your pride…”

“This isn’t about pride.”

He whipped his head in her direction; he was scrubbing his hands. “Isn’t it? Isn’t this about you being right?”

“No!”

“If you came back to the church, it would change everything for us. Everything. It would make our whole lives easier.”

“If I repent, you mean.”

He rolled his eyes again. “No one’s going to make you repent. That was thirteen years ago.” He dried his hands on his shirt. Corinne didn’t have kitchen towels. “You’re already living a Christian life.”

“There’s no Christ in my life.”

“You don’t do anything sinful! You’re kind and honest, you pay your taxes…”

“It’s not that simple!”

He turned to face her again. His face was plaintive. “I’d make it simple for you, Corinne. I’d make it so easy.”

“You want me to come back.”

“Yes.”

“You want me to marry you.”

He didn’t hesitate. “Yes.

“And we’d go to church together three times a week. And sit next to each other in the front row.”

“We could sit wherever you want.”

“Brother and Sister Miller,” she said.

He took a step forward. “I promise you wouldn’t regret it.”

Corinne bit her lip.

Enoch Miller was standing in her kitchen. All six-foot-whatever of him. With his big nose and his big mouth and his barrel chest. With his cherry cola hair falling onto his forehead. Enoch Miller, such a promising young brother. Such a kind young man. As devout as Timothy. He’d make a good elder someday. And a good husband.

“I would,” she said. “I’d regret it.”

She walked out of the kitchen.