We broke apart abruptly. Guilty. Exposed. Terrified. My father stood in the doorway, his expression a mixture of shock, anger, and something else I couldn’t quite decipher.
“Father, I can explain.”
“You’re in love with him.” Not a question, but an accusation.
Josiah immediately knelt down. “Lord, please. It’s my fault. I never should have…”
“Silence, Josiah.” My father’s voice was dangerously calm. He looked at me. “Elellanar, is it true? Are you in love with this slave?”
I could have lied. I could have claimed that Josiah had raped me, that I was a victim. It would have saved me and condemned Josiah to torture and death. I couldn’t.
“Yes, I love him and he loves me. And before you threaten him, know that the feeling is mutual. I was the one who initiated our first kiss. I was the one who sought this relationship. If you have to punish someone, punish me.”
My father’s face went through a series of expressions: anger, disbelief, confusion. Finally: “Josiah, go to your room immediately. Don’t come out until I send for you.”
“Gentleman-“
“No.”
Josiah left, casting me one last anguished look. The door closed, leaving me alone with my father. What happened next? My father’s words in that study changed everything, but not in the way I expected.
“Do you understand what you’ve done?” my father asked in a low voice.
“I fell in love with a good man who treats me with respect and kindness.”
“You fell in love with property, a slave. Elellaner, if this got out, you’d be ruined beyond repair. They’d say you were crazy, flawed, perverse.”
“They’re already saying I’m a problematic person and unsuitable for marriage. What’s the difference?”
“The difference is in protection. I gave you to Josiah to protect you, not… not for this.”
“Then you shouldn’t have brought us together.” I was screaming, years of frustration finally spilling out. “You shouldn’t have married me off to someone intelligent, kind, and sweet if you didn’t want me to fall in love with him.”
“I wanted you to be safe, not at the center of a scandal.”
“I’m safe. Safer than I’ve ever been. Josiah would rather die than let anyone hurt me.”
“And what will happen when I die? When the inheritance passes to your cousin? Do you think Robert will let you keep a slave husband? He’ll sell Josiah the very day I’m buried and lock you up in some institution.”
“Then release him. Release Josiah. Let’s go. We’ll go north. Will—”
“The North is not a promised land, Elellanar. A white woman with a black man, former slave or not, will face prejudice everywhere. Think your life is difficult now? Try living as an interracial couple.”
“I am not interested.”
“Well, yes. I’m your father, and I’ve spent your whole life trying to protect you, and I won’t let you get into a situation that will destroy you.”
“Being without Josiah will destroy me. Don’t you understand? For the first time in my life, I’m happy. I’m loved. I’m appreciated for who I am, not for what I can’t do. And you want to take all of that away from me because society says it’s wrong.”
My father sank into a chair, suddenly looking his full 56 years. “What do you want me to do, Ellanar? Bless him? Accept him?”
“I want you to understand that I love him, that he loves me, and that no matter what you do, that won’t change.”
Outside, silence reigned between us. The December wind rattled the windows. Somewhere in the house, Josiah waited to learn his fate.
Finally my father spoke, and what he said shocked me more than anything that had happened before. “I could sell him,” my father said softly. “Send him to the Deep South. Make sure I never see him again.”
My blood ran cold. “Father, please…”
“Let me finish.” He raised a hand. “I could sell it. That would be the right solution. Separate you. Pretend it never happened. Find you somewhere else.”
“Please don’t do that.”
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