Free Sweet Contradiction by Peggy Martinez Page B

began shouting.
    We pulled up in front of Jen’s house just as it was beginning to get dark. I wanted to jump out of his truck and make a run for the door, but Matt didn’t deserve that. He deserved better than that. My hand tightened around the handle of his door and I took in a deep breath.
    “Jen told me your dad is a Pastor,” I blurted out and then blushed. Matt’s eyes widened in confusion and then anger.
    “You have a problem with me because of my Dad?” he growled.
    “Yes … I mean … no.” I ran a weary hand over my face and sighed.
    “It’s not just that … it’s the whole package.” Matt was staring at me, waiting for me to continue on. “It’s me. Since I was a little girl I swore that I’d never come back to Salem. That I’d never fall in love with someone who made religion an important part of their lives. I’d stuck to those rules and a few others … until you .” I glanced down at my lap and twisted the handle of my purse. I didn’t think he caught my little slip.
    “So, you have a problem with our relationship because I go to church and live in a small town?” he asked with disbelief lacing his voice. I nodded slightly. “Why?” he asked softly. I briefly considered not telling him, but I had already opened up to him, slept with him, and started to fall in love with him. I wanted to tell him. I glanced out my window and relaxed back into my seat.
    “I had religious parents. Southern, small town, narrow minded parents who used the Bible and God at every turn to tell me lovely bed time stories about hell and how little girls who disobeyed, who didn’t curb their sinful natures, would go there to live and burn for an eternity with Satan and all his demons.” I smiled sadly over at Matt before continuing on. “I remember hearing those stories as early as three or four years old. I wanted stories about fairies and dragons, princesses and frogs, but I never got those kinds of stories. When I got older, I had to try to “purge” myself from all sinful desires, which meant colorful clothing, jewelry, sweets, music, or anything that could possibly cause me to turn from a holy life. The long stick that had spare the rod and spoil the child etched into it that my father used to hit me with wasn’t the worst thing, writing verses to match whatever transgressions I’d committed until my fingers blistered weren’t the worse things either.” Matt flinched slightly, but I continued on, everything flowing forth for the very first time. I’d never even spoken to Jen about all the things I’d endured.
    “It was having to pretend to be someone I wasn’t, locking away the real me in a tiny box of never ending darkness for all those years just to please my parent’s god, that hurt the most. The physical scars healed after time, but the ones on the inside, where I buried my personality, my dreams, and my very spirit … those are not so easily healed.” Matt’s hand found mine and he brought it to his lips to place a gentle kiss across my knuckles. A single tear tracked down my cheek.
    “Beth, I’m so sorry, honey.” His finger wiped my tear away. I leaned my face into his palm and breathed in the scent of his skin. “So, you left when you turned eighteen and decided to steer clear of anyone who could have serious religious affiliations?” I nodded and he sighed deeply.
    “That’s why this could never work, Matt. I’m screwed up. I haven’t stepped in a church in over four years and you’re a freakin’ Sunday school teacher.” I huffed and threw my hands in the air … surely he could see the problem.
    “You know that not all religious people act like your parents do, right? That they took things and twisted them, made horrors of your life in the name of God? It wasn’t right and I’d never do something like that.” His eyes searched mine and I nodded. I knew those things … but knowing and believing are two different things entirely. I never wanted to take that chance