He pulled over radically, stopped and got out, slamming his palm against the side of the vehicle before stalking off into the woods. I felt tears burn behind my lids. I'd ruined a perfect day, I thought angrily, by asking a personal and stupid question. And I'd attacked.... Really attacked some of his core feelings.

            I looked around. He hadn't gone far. I could see him, and realized he was peeing. Oh. I saw him adjust his spandex and come striding back out of the trees, his look was enigmatic. I drew in a sharp breath, not wanting to seem so harsh and judgmental. I was waiting for him to get in the driver's side, when my door opened and he slid a hand down my arm.

            "Aubrey. This can't come between us." His eyes were intense, pleading.

            "I know. I ruined a perfect day with my dumb questions."

            "No. They're good questions, and understandable given your perceptions. Forget I was once a member of the church though."

            I reached up and cupped his cheeks, looking far and deeply into his eyes.

            "And someday you'll tell me why you left the church and threw away the law of chastity?"

            He nodded. "It's talk-able. Okay?" He let his hands circle both of my wrists. "It's up for discussion." Then he leaned forward and kissed me, sealing our rapport in place once again.

            "So we are done discussing porn?"

            "Unless you want to watch a flick with me tonight in bed and get some." He made a fist and his eyes were burning brightly, but then he turned his face and spat. "Forget I ever said that. Really. Aubrey, forget I am base and immoral for the moment. I'm not like that when I'm with you, and I don't ever want to treat you with that kind of disrespect."

            I cocked my head, my eyes filling with tears again. "So, when you're not with me I can just expect that you are watching porn with some girl----."  I turned my face away and pulled my hands off his cheeks and away from his grip.

            "Shit."

            "Don't cuss."

            "Shit!"

            I shook my head and pushed against him, wanting to shut the car door. He slammed his palm into the window and held the door open.

            "No-- no way! This isn't happening, not over something this stupid."

            "It's not stupid, Rafe. You have views that you don't want to change that are diametrically opposed to mine. That doesn't make for a great relationship. It's not something I can just get over or look the other way while you----"

            "You don't hear me dissing the church."

            My tears slid out. "This isn't about the church. It's about trust and love and feelings about intercourse between men and women. To you it's just a way to get pleasure and self gratification. To me its----."

            "About love and purity, and yeah—I get it."

            "No, apparently you don't. You would just as soon cheat on your wife if the opportunity arose, but you'd expect her to cheat on you as well."

            He sputtered. He really did. Kind of looked away and didn't know what to say. Because frankly, all the studies show I'm right. Fidelity leads to long life and good health, infidelity leads to just the opposite. Porn is evil.

            "Let me ask you this." He said and his tone was tightly held in check and I could tell he was as angry as me. "Is this a deal breaker for us?"

            "If we're together and you're looking at porn and thinking about other women, yeah." I said and finally turned.

            His eyes widened at my tears and my words. He reached up and wiped my cheeks, then his shoulders slumped. His eyes had tears in them when they met mine which made me cry all over again.

            "Aubrey, this can't come between us."

            "It already has." I said and hung my head, as disappointed as he was.

            "No--- it hasn't. I haven't looked at porn on this trip, and I haven't even thought of another woman, and you said you understood addictions and----"

            "But you haven't even admitted that porn is bad, you got defensive—comparing your preference for porn to my preference for the church, and you know that's not fair. Mormonism is a way of life, and it's true and you know it. Porn is---"

            "Stop." He pulled me very close, lovingly close. In fact, he pulled me out of the car and cradled me in his arms. I felt the beat of his heart, and the swallow of his Adam's apple, I smelled the rank odor of his sweat, and the salty musk of tears and I didn't know what to think.

            I had to forgive him. I couldn't let anything come between us either, and I obviously didn't understand his reasons at all. I just knew --- well—what I thought--- but I had never even seen porn, let alone had sex. I didn't get it, and I wasn't willing to compromise, and he knew it.

            He was stroking my hair. "Come on baby, give it a chance, okay? Give me a chance."

            I was nodding against him. "I can give you a chance." I said. "But not porn. I can't give it a chance, ever. I will never----."

            "I know, that's not what I meant. I get what you're saying and maybe it is wrong, and ---and, and maybe it destroys---."

            "True love and trust and respect...." I added, with tears again.

            "Right. Things I don't think I've ever expected to have in my life."

            I drew back to look into his red rimmed eyes. "Why, Rafe? Why don't you expect to have trust and---."

            He tossed his head back, looking at the sky for answers, blowing out his breath sharply. His fingers dug into my shoulders. "Because, Aubrey----."  He said my name the way he said it when he was considering me a fool or a child, and I bristled slightly, till he ran those hands down my arms to clasp my hands in his. "Those things aren't real."

            I blinked. "I beg to differ with you."

            He looked away. "I don't want to be the one to burst your bubble."

            "You're saying that love and trust can't be had between married people?"

            "You don't get it. People care about themselves first. They always have and always will. Ultimately, they can't let go of themselves to really give it all to someone else. The way you're talking--- love and trust and perfection--- it doesn't exist."

            I was floored. I'd believed all my life that true love, selfless, giving love was possible, and my belief in Jesus Christ confirmed that. How could he not see the pattern of true love had been laid already and giving of oneself did not mean to give yourself away?

            "Why, to have trust and love, true selfless love, do you have to let go of who you are?"

            He stared back into my eyes. "I refuse to get religious with you right now, Aubrey, maybe ever." He let me go, swung on the door in frustration and then loped around the front of the car to get in on his own side. He revved the engine and took off, and I sat back in my seat, stunned at his revelations.

            My mind whirled with reasons he might feel this way. Perhaps life and example had shown him no true love stories. Perhaps his teachings about God and Jesus were flawed, or non-existent. Perhaps he had loved and lost. I folded my fingers against themselves and closed my eyes, praying silently for guidance. I was a praying girl after all, and contrary to gut feeling, I really did care for this guy.

            "Quit it." He hissed low. My eyes snapped open. "Stop it."

            "Are you kidding?"

            "I don't want you praying for me."

            "I wasn't praying for you."

            "Oh, really?" His tone was dry, sarcastic. His eyes slid to mine full of self knowledge.

            "I was praying for myself. For guidance. I'm allowed to do that, aren't I? Or do you forbid prayer in your company too?"

            He pursed his lips and stared at the road, and I looked away out the window, ending my prayer in my head. I didn't feel any better. I felt weird and jittery inside. We really were completely out of sync with each other. I felt like a twister had come and ripped us apart, and the debris between us was thick and full of dirt.

            "Aubrey." Now his voice was gentle again, he'd regained control.

            I looked at him sideways. He was still tense. I didn't want his apology, but I didn't want to continue the former conversation. What I wanted, was to forget we'd ever had it, and for my logical instincts to kick in again, telling me that Rafe was all wrong for me, that a relationship between us would never work out and that this was a nice week together and it would never happen again. Someday I would meet Mr. Right and he would be a returned missionary, and a seminary grad, and a college grad, and maybe a doctor, so he'd understand and value me, and----           

            "Listen to me."

            "I am listening to you, Rafe."

            "I've been around a lot. A lot." He nodded to me as if confirming that I understood what that meant. That he was worldlier than me, basically that he understood the world better than me. I blinked slowly, telling him with my eyes that I didn't care. "I've seen cultures where women are used and abused, and cultures where they use and abuse themselves. I've seen them sell themselves for money, for favors and for prestige. I've seen women come on to me just to be able to add me to a list of their conquests. I've never seen anything resembling the kind of love you believe in."

            "Your parents?"

            His neck tightened, his head remained fixed staring at the road, but I knew it wasn't the road he was seeing.

            "So, your parents have a loveless marriage? Were they married in the temple?"

            He nodded. "They did it all the way you describe it. Waited--- all of it. And----."

            "Are they still together?"

            "Hurting each other, dammit. Yeah. Living lies every day."

            I nodded. I wasn't unfamiliar with these kinds of marriages. But I preferred to think that deep down they didn't leave not because it was convenient or a financial obligation, but because they believed in the covenant of marriage and that ultimately God could heal them, if they just kept trying.

            I wanted to say that, but he felt like a stranger, and he'd told me he didn't want to discuss religion. Maybe ever.

********