Page 74 of Robbin’ the Rich

I looked down at the map, then at my character sheet, then back up.

"Sorry… Give me a second.” I smiled despite myself, but apparently it wasn't convincing.

Nate leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "Okay."

That single word carried years of friendship and entirely too much insight.

I groaned. "Can we not do this?"

"Oh, we are absolutely doing this."

For a few minutes, I attempted to redirect the conversation. It failed spectacularly. Apparently, years of friendship came with the ability to identify when somebody was avoiding a subject.

Eventually, I gave up. The room quieted as I leaned back in my chair.

"It's Robin."

That earned immediate interest. "You mean the woman you've been smiling at your phone about for four weeks?" Jordan chimed in from the door sensing gossip.

"I hate you," I said to Nate.

"No, you don't."

Unfortunately, he was correct. I rubbed a hand over my face and stared down at the table for a moment, trying to figure out where to start.

"The problem isn't Robin."

"It never is," Jordan said.

"The problem is me." That shut everyone up.

“What do you mean?” Nate asked.

“She has a past with the church… like she hates it… and rightfully so. I just….”

"She still doesn't know who my family is?" Nate asked, putting me out of my misery.

I shook my head. “She doesn’t know who I am, and she hates the church… I mean hates Ascension Fellowship in particular. And I get it, I hate it too. I can’t get into all of it without saying too much because it’s not my story, but her hatred is very warranted. I’ve tried to tell her a few times that my family runs the church, but I kept chickening out. Now it’s been too long, and I feel like if she finds out this whole thing will be over. And I mean again… rightfully so. I just don’t know what to do… but I also do know what to do but can’t seem to make myself do it.”

And then I dropped my head to the table with a thunk as the dice rattled next to it.

Jordan was the first to speak. "Damn."

I laughed humorlessly. "Yeah. Damn."

The words didn't really cover it, but it was a decent start.

For a moment, nobody said anything. The only sound was the faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen and the occasional creak of the house settling around us.

Finally, Nate set his soda down. "What do you want?"

The question caught me off guard, but the answer arrived immediately.

"I want out."

“Of the relationship?”

I shook my head. “No, not at all.”