Ramifications: Day 4

Word Count: 24,028

Summary of Events:

Dom drove Lachlan to his and Bethany's house and gave Lachlan a brief tour before going to bed. Lachlan was spending some time at one of the gang nightclubs when the gang boss came for a visit and he, Lachlan, and the man who'd injured Lachlan got into a rather circuitous discussion about a wide variety of topics, mostly revolving around the incident that got Lachlan injured. Dom was doing paperwork when one of the most lavish donors to the Shelter came over to visit with a plane ticket to Melbourne for him that he was highly reluctant to accept . . .

Excerpt of the Day:

"Even if Lois wouldn't consider the several-hundred-dollar ticket all that much of a loss should Dom throw it out, he would. It would be wasteful to throw out something that expensive. About the only way he could effectively get rid of it without considering it a waste was if he found someone else who needed to go to Melbourne. Who actually needed to go to Melbourne.

He glanced toward the door at the sound of footsteps and soon Bethany appeared in the doorway.

"You're not happy are you Dom?" she asked.

"No," Dom replied, letting the frustration harden his tone. "I'm not."

"It needs to be done," Bethany replied.

"It's not the right time," Dom whispered emphatically.

"Then when is?" Bethany asked. "I wanted you to do this before we got married and here we are nearly three years beyond that and still nothing's happened."

"I'm–" Dom stopped himself and sighed before looking Bethany in the eyes. They looked glassy, like tears were accumulating within, ready to spill over the precipices of her eyelids and roll down her cheeks. "I'm not spiritually ready for it Bethany."

A tear crawled over the edge of her lower left eyelid and started rolling down her face, leaving a shining trail of its journey behind it.

"But I'm going," Dom said with mild disgust. "I gave her my word and told her as God is my witness I'd be on that flight."

Bethany still said nothing.

"It's not going to go well, though, and you can't tell me otherwise," Dom said.

He ran his fingers into his hair from the sides of his head and sighed.

"You don't really understand Bethany," Dom whispered. "I've changed, yes, and I know the truth, but, but that doesn't make it any easier. They still never loved me. They still . . . drove me away."

Bethany sniffled.

"I mean, maybe I am avoiding it," Dom sighed. "But . . . I know God doesn't want people not to try and make things right, and it's important to Him that things be made right as quickly as they can, it's just not there yet. I know they're not getting any younger and that I'd regret it if they died and I hadn't done anything, but it's just . . . excruciatingly difficult."

He looked at Bethany. More tear-trails striped her cheeks. Dom felt horrible.

"I'm not ready to forgive them yet," Dom said.

"Then I'll let you alone and let you get ready to be able to forgive them on Friday," Bethany whispered, her voice clipped, before Dom heard the sound of receding footsteps.

"Bethany," Dom called. "Bethany!"

There was no hesitation or pause in her stride. He listened numbly to the sound of her feet hurrying down the stairs."