Unproven Chapter Fifty Five "What Is Love? (Baby don't hurt me)"

If you're loved by someone, you're never rejected, decide what to be and GO BE IT
-The Avett brothers

Recommend Reading Introduction to Unproven

DEFINITELY READ Prologue

Chapter One Chapter Two Chapter Three

Chapter Four Chapter Five Chapter Six

Chapter Seven Chapter Eight Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten Chapter Eleven Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen Chapter Fourteen Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen Chapter Seventeen Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen Chapter Twenty Chapter Twenty One

Chapter Twenty Two Chapter Twenty Three Chapter Twenty Four

Chapter Twenty Five Chapter Twenty Six Chapter Twenty Seven

Chapter Twenty Eight Chapter Twenty Nine Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty One Chapter Thirty Two Chapter Thirty Three

Chapter Thirty Four Chapter Thirty Five Chapter Thirty Six

Chapter Thirty Seven Chapter Thirty EightChapter Thirty Nine

Chapter Forty Chapter Forty One Chapter Forty Two

Chapter Forty Three Chapter Forty Four Chapter Forty Five

Chapter Forty Six Chapter Forty Seven Chapter Forty Eight

Chapter Forty Nine Chapter Fifty Chapter Fifty One

Chapter Fifty Two Chapter Fifty Three
Chapter Fifty Four

Chapter Fifty Five

Grayson entered the study and sat in the armchair he’d always thought of as his. His father wasn't on the phone for once, instead he was sitting in front of his desktop, a look of pure concentration on his hard features. He'd had time to consider what his dad might want and knew it was about Aryanne. Which was actually a good thing; if his father hadn't bought his charade this afternoon there was still the chance he might act on his unspoken threat from two days ago. But if he were willing to talk about it then Grayson could breathe easier on that score. And he had told the man that he'd planned to elicit his help. He realized if he were going to play a game against his father he would only stand a chance if he was consistent. And careful. Very, very careful.

James glanced up and pushed his chair back from the desk. He didn't say anything, just rested his eyes on Grayson's face, apparently waiting for him to start.

"So what are your thoughts?" Grayson asked in a tone of genuine interest.

James lips curved, "I would hate to think you were humoring me."

Grayson blinked innocently. "Of course not. I actually am a bit lost as to how to proceed. As I said earlier, I intended to ask for your help."

James tilted his head. "What is it that you want to accomplish? In a previous conversation we discussed the fact that she is a zealot, one who believes so strongly in their myths and delusions that breaking them down is extremely difficult. Difficult but not impossible, since there is no truth in it. You will just need to find a way to pull the floor out from underneath her, then she'll see there's no true foundation, just a gaping hole. And of course there's a high probability she will fall into this hole and never crawl back out."

"That's the problem with those who believe so strongly- their fall is always the longest and hardest. Though it is possible she'd be smart enough or strong enough to build a ladder with the truth if she came to terms with it, but that would depend on whether her faith comes from a desperate need to believe or simply because of indoctrination. If she's one who yearns for the truth no matter what she's been taught, then you might have reason for this otherwise misplaced admiration." He leaned back in his chair and put his arms behind his head. "What I need to know from you...is this still about doubts that you have or is it the challenge that makes her so appealing?"

Grayson paused. Of course the pause in itself might be a mistake, but a quick answer had a higher likelihood of inspiring his father's suspicion as to the truth of it, unless he had a ready explanation. And he'd already established that there were doubts. He decided to go with a bit of the truth, it was a tactic that had always worked well for him in the past.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs. "I want to tell you that you dispelled all my doubts. Certainly it's difficult to argue with the logic behind what you say, and I have no concrete reason to believe that love is anything more than the myth you claim it to be. I don't know why there is still this lingering question. I've pulled it apart and examined it from every angle and just when I think I've put it to rest, it rises back up. And she is at the root of it. If you ask me to ignore it, then all you're asking is that I not face something that might later become a more serious problem as it works in the back of my mind. So
the answer to your question is both."

James nodded. "Perfectly understandable, and I appreciate your candor. I was concerned that you may have begun to view me as the enemy and would try to deceive me, which would be most unwise. Of course I already knew you were still entertaining doubt. I was only unsure as to the extent. I must admit I'm relieved to hear that you continue to examine it, I was beginning to fear that you had been completely taken in. Question and doubt is perfectly acceptable at your age, what I would not find acceptable is for my brilliant son to adopt blind faith.

"Now as far as the girl, my main concern is that you may not have the time to accomplish what you need to alleviate this question in your mind if you continue to view her as the root of it. She is still so young, and has yet to experience much of the harsh realities of life, so her faith may currently be extremely difficult to shake. I will allow you to try, but there is a limit. I won't put a time on it just yet, I'll wait and see how things progress and whether it appears you are making any headway. In the meantime I want you to contemplate what the true source of this doubt you're experiencing might be. Because I know you'll find that it is not this girl, but something deeper inspired by her. Perhaps something as simple as the childish, ego based desire to feel that you are the most important being in someone's life.

“You should remember our discussions concerning this from your lessons in the past, how it is one of the biggest lies you will ever encounter in society, perpetuated by the largest propagandist machine in the world-the Holy Roman Church. They use the figure of Jesus Christ; a man who supposedly allowed himself to be tortured and killed out of love for mankind; as a way of controlling the masses. As long as the slaves believe in the words of this man as described by the church, words of self-sacrifice and towing the line, then those in power will stay in power. It's a brilliant tactic and I applaud it, but not one for such as us to buy into. Because the reality is that the most important being in anyone's life is themselves."

Grayson had leaned back against the couch to listen to his father's speech, and he found he was really listening. James had a way of speaking that was almost hypnotic. Eloquent, with a certain rhythm like the swinging of a pendulum. And the things he said made sense. He found himself thinking his father was right, he did need to explore the deeper reasons for this feeling he had for Ary. It would be a mistake to trade logic for fantasy, to set himself up for the kind of fall he'd witnessed so many others take. Then he would be the one clawing his way out of a hole. The thought made him shudder.

"Grayson."

He looked up.

"Is there anything you want to add, or discuss further?"

"Not at the moment, but I'll let you know when I do."

James nodded, "Good."

Grayson stood as his father picked up his phone, wondering if the man had ever met someone that had caused him to ask the same questions. Maybe he would ask him sometime.

He left the study feeling considerably less sure of himself than he'd been coming in. He found himself wishing he hadn't dropped Ary off, that she was waiting for him upstairs instead. And not just so he could jump on her. The thought was immediately followed by an image of his dad shaking his head. If you're coming to depend on her for a sense of well-being you are on the wrong track, one that's liable to get you run over by a train. He wasn't sure if the thought stemmed from something he knew his father would say or his own concern, but it rang true either way.

When he reached his room he went straight to his bed and flopped down on it.

Ever since he'd met her he'd developed a habit of lying in this position, staring at the ceiling as if it would unlock the mysteries of the world. His father's words ran through his head. What was the root?

An hour later he was no closer to an answer that satisfied him. His lip quirked as he recalled Ary listing off her attributes in the study that afternoon, his father showing a fraction of surprise that he hadn't been able to cow her. It was an accurate list as far as he'd discerned. He sighed in annoyance.

I don't know what the source is. And he definitely had no desire to continue trying to prove she wasn't what she seemed; if his father was right and she was just a zealot he was also right in assuming her faith was currently unshakable. So what was the point in continuing to search for her breaking point? All he would accomplish was to hurt her and watch her bounce back, and he didn't enjoy hurting her. He rolled onto his stomach and put his pillow over the back of his head feeling exhausted. He didn't have to figure it out tonight, he had time.

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