Into the Light (The Light #1)(93)
Since the end of our banishment and our return to The Light, the community, and our lives, when I was with Jacob, whether in public or in private, my movements no longer required conscious effort—they belonged to him. While my mind continued its struggle, my body willingly submitted. With a touch, a glance, or one word, his expectations were made clear. Though some small part of me resisted, the sensible part of me wanted to be the best wife an Assemblyman could have. After all the support from the unified Assembly wives, as well as the way Father Gabriel had welcomed us back to the congregation, I understood that Jacob and I truly were part of the chosen. The idea that I’d somehow almost jeopardized it made my heart hurt.
After we first returned to the community, I had problems. Often I’d awake in the middle of the night chilled to the bone, my heart racing, engulfed in darkness. The terrors of my nightmares included dragons with foul breath and razor-sharp teeth as well as a faceless man screaming stop in the darkness. Once awake I’d fall victim to an overwhelming sense of remorse—guilt over what I’d almost taken away from not only Jacob, but myself. When I felt that way, I was careful not to wake my husband. I’d usually move from his embrace, cling to the far edge of the bed, and muffle my tears with my pillow.
I knew Father Gabriel’s teachings; I studied hard. According to him, once a correction was complete, the transgressor was freed from the responsibility of the sin. It was done, as if it’d never happened. Yet I didn’t feel free.
One night as I clung to the far side of the bed and my body shuddered with muffled cries, Jacob’s warmth came behind me. I froze, completely unable to move and fearful that he’d be upset. Instead, his arms once again surrounded me and he asked, “What is it?”
I’d been crying too long; my words didn’t form. All I could do was shake my head.
Gently he rolled me toward him, and in the darkness he asked me two things: “Who are you?” and “Who am I?”
I tilted my head to the side, pondering his unusual questions. With stuttering breaths I replied, “I’m Sara Adams and you’re my husband, Jacob Adams.”
He tenderly wiped my cheek with his thumb, and brought our noses together. Whispering softly, he said, “That’s all that’s important. Go to sleep.”
Though it seemed too simplistic, he was right. Concentrating solely on us, I curled into his warmth and laid my head on his chest. With the sound of his steady heartbeat against my ear, I drifted to sleep. When I awoke the next morning, I remembered not having been able to answer him the first time and my overwhelming sense of guilt and loneliness. I expected a reprimand, more questions about what had happened, or a lecture on how all my thoughts were his. He didn’t mention it.
The next time the dragon’s hiss woke me, instead of rolling away, I cuddled close and remembered his questions. As his even breaths flowed across the top of my head, I reminded myself of who I was and who he was. Before long I drifted back to sleep. In time the dragons faded away.
Although I knew I should talk to Jacob about my nightmares and guilt over the accident, my courage to do so waned with each passing day. After all, if I’d followed Father Gabriel’s teachings, I would’ve told Jacob immediately. I knew the penalty for disobeying; I’d experienced it more than once.
It wasn’t until I had multiple consecutive nights of uninterrupted sleep, while we were alone in our apartment, that Jacob asked me again about what had happened. He led me to the sofa and calmly demanded answers.
“Sara, I’ve been waiting for you to tell me this on your own. Obviously you haven’t. I’m not sure why, but I want answers. Tell me why you were crying during the night.”
I took a deep breath, wanting to be truthful, but equally fearful of his reaction. “It started as nightmares. I think.” I tried to explain. “That’s what woke me, but then I believe it was my guilt.” My chest heaved. “I still can’t believe I risked everything here, you and our friends, by taking your truck. I don’t understand why I’d do that. I don’t think I would, but obviously I did.” A tear fell from the corner of my eye.
He lifted my chin. The way he stared stripped me bare. His soft brown eyes sought not only me, but my honesty. I didn’t look away, nor did I want to. Captive in his grasp, I needed him to see my sincerity. Holding my breath, I waited for his gaze to narrow and his voice to lose emotion.
“What does Father Gabriel say about correction?” His eyes still searched, while his tone remained full of emotion.
I exhaled. “I know. I do. I know we were banished and now we’re back. I know it should be gone.” Unable to move my chin, I lowered my eyes and slid my lip between my teeth. I’d confessed and now all I could do was await the punishment I deserved for doubting Father Gabriel’s teaching.
“Sara, it’s not that it should be. It is.”
I nodded, and my body trembled. “I do believe it, but I just don’t know . . .”
He lifted my balled hands and opened my fists, finger by finger, until he could kiss my palms. Then, with his thumb, he gently freed my lip. “Why are you so tense?”
“Because I know Father Gabriel’s word, but I must not be living it. If I were, I wouldn’t have those thoughts, a-and I don’t know what you’re going to do.”
“What do you think I should do?”
My heart sank as the dinner we’d just eaten churned in my stomach. I hated when he asked me. Those simple questions turned the responsibility back to me. I didn’t want it. It was his. Again I tried to lower my chin, but to no avail. I sighed and added to my transgressions. “I’ve also kept something from you. I didn’t tell you that this was going on for a few weeks.”