They stared at each other. The only sound Eli could hear was his pulse hammering in his head.
The moment stretched, balancing like a coin on its edge. It could fall at any minute, heads or tails. Who was going to win? And what was at stake?
Everything.
Eli broke the silence. “This is it, you know.”
“This is…what?”
“The thing that could break us. Our biggest obstacle. Our most foundational difference.” He couldn’t hold back the words, knowing they had to be spoken. “We could survive a family feudor the possibility that your father put mine in jail. We could overcome a thousand-mile distance and completely different lives. But this? This is the real test of what we have and if it could last.”
Kate nodded slowly. “I know.”
Again, they looked at each other, silent. Eli would never give up his faith, and Kate may never understand it. If that were true, they were doomed.
“Can we just deal with Jonah and Atlas’s grandparents first?” she asked gently. “I’m not ready to fight you on…God.” She wrinkled her nose. “He might win.”
Eli smiled and leaned into her. “Yes, let’s deal with Jonah. But I stand my ground—I want to believe that opening the door to grieving parents can be an act of peace.”
“And I want to believe that protecting Jonah and Atlas isn’t an act of war.”
Eli put his arm around her, holding her as they watched Jonah come back to the slider and step inside, his shoulders squared. Happy to show solidarity, they both stood together and faced him.
“Decision?” Eli asked.
“I’m going to do both,” he said. “I’ll do the paternity test. I’ll get a lawyer. But I invited them all to come and visit us. I told them they were more than welcome to stay here, get to know Atlas, and we can all talk about how they can be part of his life.”
Relief and gratitude washed over Eli. “Good call, son.”
Kate’s brows lifted, her mouth opening—then closing. Whatever she wanted to say, she’d chosen not to.
“I hope so. I’m going to break the news to Atlas,” Jonah joked, then pointed upstairs. “And then I’ll call a local lab and find out how one goes about proving paternity.”
Eli nodded and put a hand on his shoulder. “I’m proud of you, son,” he whispered, and never meant it more.
When he left, Kate turned to lean into Eli, letting her head drop on his shoulder but not meeting his gaze.
“We’re different,” she said softly.
“We are,” he agreed. “It would be boring if we were the same.”
“It would be easier and make more sense.” She looked up at him, a world of emotion in her mahogany eyes. “I need things to make sense, Eli. It’s important for me. I must have logic and proof and evidence and tangible…everything. That’s how I’m wired.”
He didn’t know where to begin to answer that. How to tell her that he did have tangible proof of God—every time he looked in the sky or picked up Atlas or listened to Meredith laugh. She already probably thought he was a weakling for wanting to win a custody battle with hospitality and not contracts.
He’d also fight in prayer, but she wouldn’t understand that, either.
“Let me show you,” he said on a whisper, not really sure where the words or the sentiment was coming from.
She lifted her brows in question. “Show me what?”
“The power of something you can’t see or feel or touch.”
She looked dubious. “How?”
He had no idea, but he was trusting God. “You’ll see. You’ll know it when it happens.”
She gave a sad smile, half pity, half amusement. But he didn’t care—the answer to this dilemma was in bigger hands than his.
