The author was inspired by these words in writing the title and this novel and gives thanks to THE ONE above.

Chapter 12: Stepping Into Truth

The morning light felt different as it streamed through Delores's bedroom windows, casting golden patterns across the rumpled sheets where she and Serina lay entwined. For the first time in weeks, Delores had slept deeply, peacefully, without the nightmares of legal documents and family rejection that had been haunting her nights. She felt Serina stir beside her, watched as those beautiful dark eyes opened and focused on her face with a smile that made her heart skip.

"Good morning," Serina whispered, her voice husky with sleep. "How are you feeling?"

"Different," Delores said, surprised by the truth of it. "Stronger, maybe. More... myself."

"Good different or scary different?"

"Both." Delores propped herself up on one elbow, studying Serina's face in the morning light. "I keep waiting for the panic to set in, for the voice in my head that says I've made a terrible mistake. But it's not coming."

"Maybe because you haven't made a mistake. Maybe because you've finally made the right choice."

Delores leaned down and kissed her gently, still marveling at the simple freedom of it—the ability to love openly, to choose connection over protection, to trust that her authentic self was worthy of this kind of tenderness.

"I need to call Rebecca this morning," she said when they broke apart. "Tell her about my decision, about us, about the fact that I'm ready to fight this without hiding who I am."

"Are you nervous about that conversation?"

"Terrified," Delores admitted. "But also relieved. I'm tired of making decisions based on fear. I'm tired of letting Craig's prejudices control my choices."

They made breakfast together in Delores's small kitchen, moving around each other with the easy intimacy of people who had found their rhythm. Serina scrambled eggs while Delores made coffee, and they talked about practical things—work schedules, weekend plans, the mundane details of two lives beginning to intertwine.

But underneath the ordinary conversation, Delores felt the weight of the extraordinary choice she had made. By choosing love, by choosing authenticity, by choosing to fight for her inheritance without compromising her truth, she had crossed a threshold that couldn't be uncrossed. There was no going back to hiding, no returning to the safety of isolation, no retreating into the kind of performance that had nearly killed her as a child.

"I should probably tell you," Serina said as she plated the eggs, "that I'm not exactly a private person. I mean, I'm not going to take out a billboard announcing our relationship, but I'm also not going to hide it. I hold hands in public, I post pictures on social media, I introduce my girlfriend to my friends and coworkers."

"Your girlfriend?" Delores felt her cheeks warm with pleasure at the word.

"If that's what you want to be. If you're ready for that level of... visibility."

Delores thought about the implications. Social media posts that could be subpoenaed. Public displays of affection that could be photographed. Friends and coworkers who could be called as witnesses. Every aspect of their relationship potentially becoming evidence in Craig's case against her moral standing.

"Yes," she said, surprising herself with the certainty in her voice. "Yes, I want to be your girlfriend. And yes, I'm ready for the visibility. I'm done hiding."

The call to Rebecca came after breakfast, with Serina sitting beside her on the couch, holding her hand for moral support. Delores had rehearsed what she wanted to say, but when Rebecca answered, the words came out in a rush.

"I've made my decision. I'm not going to hide who I am or who I love to satisfy the will's conditions. I'm ready to fight this with everything I have, and I want you to know that I'm in a relationship now. With a woman named Serina. And I'm not going to hide that either."

Rebecca's laughter was warm and approving. "I was hoping you'd come to that conclusion. It's the right choice, both legally and personally. Tell me about Serina."

Delores looked at the woman beside her, at the encouraging smile and supportive squeeze of her hand. "She's a social worker who specializes in LGBTQ+ youth. She's been through her own struggles with family acceptance. She's brave and kind and she sees me—really sees me—in a way that makes me feel like I can face anything."

"How long have you known each other?"

"We met at the community center where my support group meets a few months ago, but we just started dating last night. I know it's new, but..." Delores paused, searching for the right words. "But it feels right. It feels like the kind of love I've been waiting for my whole life."

"And she knows about the legal situation?"

"She knows everything. She knows about Craig's challenge, about the discriminatory clauses, about what it might mean for our relationship to become public. And she's choosing to be with me anyway."

"Good. Because if this goes to court, and it probably will, your relationship is going to become part of the public record. Craig's team will try to use it as evidence that you're violating the will's moral standards."

"Let them try," Delores said, feeling a surge of defiance. "Let them try to argue that love is immoral, that authentic relationships are violations of family values. Let them explain to a judge why my parents' prejudices should override my right to happiness."

"That's exactly the attitude we need. Because this case isn't just about your inheritance anymore—it's about the broader question of whether discriminatory will clauses can be enforced in modern courts. We're not just fighting for your money, we're fighting for the principle that love is love and family is family."

After the call ended, Delores felt a strange combination of terror and exhilaration. She had just committed herself to a path that would expose every aspect of her private life to public scrutiny, that would make her relationship with Serina a matter of legal record, that would force her to defend her right to love in front of strangers who might not understand or accept her truth.

But she had also committed herself to authenticity, to the kind of life she had been fighting for since she was eighteen years old. She had chosen love over fear, truth over comfort, courage over safety.

"So what happens now?" Serina asked, echoing the question from the night before.

"Now we live our lives. We go to work, we spend time together, we build something real and beautiful and worth fighting for." Delores turned to face her fully. "And we prepare for the fact that our relationship is going to become very public very quickly."

"Are you ready for that?"

"I'm ready for anything as long as you're with me."

They spent the rest of the morning making plans—practical plans about how to handle the media attention that would inevitably come, emotional plans about how to support each other through the legal battle ahead, romantic plans about the life they wanted to build together.

Serina had to leave for work eventually, but not before they had established the rhythms of a relationship that would be lived in public, scrutinized by strangers, used as evidence in a legal battle over Delores's right to exist. They exchanged keys, synchronized calendars, talked about meeting each other's friends and chosen families.

"I want you to meet my support group," Delores said as Serina gathered her things. "They're like family to me, and I want them to know about us."

"I'd love that. And I want you to meet my coworkers, my friends, my chosen family too. I want everyone to know how happy you make me."

After Serina left, Delores sat in her apartment feeling the profound quiet of a life that had just changed direction. Everything looked the same—the same furniture, the same photographs, the same cracked family portrait on the mantelpiece—but everything felt different. The air itself seemed lighter, charged with possibility and hope.

She picked up her phone and scrolled through her contacts, no longer seeing potential liabilities but seeing the people who had supported her through every transition, every challenge, every moment of doubt. She started with Maria.

"I have news," she said when Maria answered. "Good news."

"Thank God. I was starting to worry that you were going to disappear entirely into legal paranoia."

"I met someone. Actually, I've known her for months, but we just... we just took the leap. Her name is Serina, and she's wonderful, and I'm completely terrified and completely happy at the same time."

Maria's squeal of delight was so loud that Delores had to hold the phone away from her ear. "Tell me everything! How did this happen? When do I get to meet her? Are you bringing her to game night this weekend?"

"Slow down," Delores laughed. "But yes, I want you to meet her. I want everyone to meet her. I'm done hiding, Maria. I'm done letting fear control my choices."

"What about the legal stuff? What about Craig's challenge?"

"We're fighting it. All of it. The discriminatory clauses, the attempt to erase my identity, the whole toxic mess. And we're fighting it without compromising who I am or who I love."

"Even if it means losing the inheritance?"

"Especially if it means losing the inheritance. Because I've realized that winning by denying myself isn't really winning at all. It's just another kind of prison."

The next call was to Dr. Martinez, who had been her therapist through every major transition in her adult life. If anyone would understand the significance of this choice, it would be her.

"Delores, it's good to hear from you. How are you managing with all the family legal issues?"

"Better than I expected, actually. I've made some decisions that I wanted to talk through with you."

She told Dr. Martinez about Serina, about the choice to fight the will without hiding her authentic self, about the realization that love was not a liability but a strength.

"I'm proud of you," Dr. Martinez said when she finished. "This represents enormous growth from the woman who used to hide every aspect of her authentic self to avoid conflict."

"I'm scared though. Scared of the public scrutiny, scared of having my relationship dissected by strangers, scared of what it might cost us both."

"Fear is natural. But remember what we've talked about—fear is information, not instruction. It tells you that something matters to you, but it doesn't have to control your choices."

"What if we lose? What if I expose everything and still lose the inheritance?"

"Then you'll still have gained something invaluable—the experience of living authentically, of choosing love over fear, of fighting for what's right regardless of the outcome. Those are victories that no court can take away from you."

The final call was the hardest one—to Beau, who was meeting with Father Rodrigez, taking care of the details with the Diocese, concerning his becoming a transitional Deacon.

She got his voicemail, which was probably for the best. This kind of conversation was better delivered in person anyway.

"Beau, it's Delores. I know you're meeting, but I wanted you to know that I've made my decision about the will. I'm fighting it. All of it. I'm not going to hide who I am or who I love to satisfy conditions that should never have existed in the first place." She paused, gathering courage for the next part. "I also wanted you to know that I'm in a relationship. With a wonderful woman named Serina. I know that might complicate things legally, but I'm done making decisions based on other people's prejudices. I'm ready to fight for my right to exist authentically, and I hope... I hope you'll still be willing to fight with me."

She ended the call and sat in the silence of her apartment, feeling the weight of all the bridges she had just crossed. There was no going back now, no retreating into safety, no hiding from the consequences of choosing authenticity over acceptance.

But there was also no more pretending, no more performing, no more sacrificing her truth for other people's comfort. She was finally, fully, unapologetically herself.

That evening, she met Serina for dinner at a restaurant in Little Five Points, a neighborhood known for its acceptance of all kinds of love and family. They sat at a table by the window, holding hands across the checkered tablecloth, talking about their days like any other couple falling in love.

But they weren't any other couple. They were two women whose love would soon become evidence in a legal battle, whose relationship would be scrutinized by strangers, whose right to happiness would be debated in courtrooms and possibly in the media.

"Are you having second thoughts?" Serina asked, noticing the way Delores kept glancing around the restaurant, hyperaware of who might be watching them.

"No second thoughts about us. But I keep thinking about what we're walking into, what it might cost you to be with me during this legal battle."

"Let me worry about what it costs me. I'm a grown woman who can make her own choices about what's worth fighting for." Serina squeezed her hand gently. "Besides, I've been fighting for the right to love authentically my entire adult life. This is just the latest battle in a war I was already fighting."

"I love you," Delores said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. "I know it's too soon to say that, but I do. I love your courage, your compassion, your refusal to let other people's prejudices make you smaller."

"I love you too," Serina replied without hesitation. "I love your strength, your determination to live authentically despite the cost, your willingness to fight for what's right even when it's hard."

They sat in the golden light of the restaurant, two women in love, claiming their right to happiness in public space. Around them, the city hummed with life—other couples holding hands, families of all configurations sharing meals, people living their authentic lives without apology or explanation.

This was what Delores was fighting for. Not just money or family recognition, but the simple freedom to love openly, to exist authentically, to claim her place in the world without having to justify her right to be there.

Later that night, as they walked hand in hand through the neighborhood, Serina stopped suddenly and pulled out her phone.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking a picture of us. For my social media." Serina's smile was mischievous. "I told you I wasn't a private person."

Delores felt a moment of panic—the old instinct to hide, to protect herself from exposure, to keep her love secret and safe. But then she looked at Serina's face, radiant with happiness and pride, and she realized that hiding their love would be the real betrayal.

"Okay," she said, moving closer so they were both in frame. "But make sure you get my good side."

"You don't have a bad side," Serina said, snapping the photo. "You're beautiful, inside and out, and I want the whole world to know how lucky I am."

As Serina typed a caption and posted the photo, Delores felt something fundamental shift inside her. She was no longer the woman who hid from love to protect herself from judgment. She was no longer the woman who made herself smaller to fit into other people's definitions of acceptable.

She was Delores, living authentically, loving openly, claiming her right to happiness regardless of what any legal document might say. She was a woman who had chosen truth over comfort, love over fear, authenticity over safety.

The photo would be public within seconds, visible to friends and strangers alike. It would become part of the digital record of their relationship, potential evidence in Craig's case against her moral standing. It would mark the moment when she stepped fully into the light, when she chose visibility over safety, when she committed herself completely to the path of authentic living.

And she had never felt more free.

The stepping into truth was complete. The old Delores—the one who hid from love to protect herself from judgment—was gone forever. In her place was a woman ready to fight for everything that mattered: her inheritance, her identity, her right to love and be loved exactly as she was.

The real battle was about to begin. But she was ready for it, because she was finally fighting for the right things in the right way. She was fighting not just for money or recognition, but for the fundamental right to exist authentically in the world.

And she was not fighting alone.