“You should have received justice.”
“I should have, yes. But a lot of people don’t.” She closed a few of the snaps on the jacket she wore. “My only consolation is that his soccer career ended when his team learned of my accusations.”
“You moved to Islehaven following the trial.”
“Yes. I couldn't go on living the life I’d been living. Everything felt shallow and empty, and I was afraid a lot of the time. I moved to Islehaven for the same reason that people decide to climb Mount Everest. It was a test of my own inner strength. At that point in my life, I needed to find out what I was made of.”
“And you found out that you were made of steel.”
“I found out that there was just enough steel to get me by. Moving to Islehaven distanced me from all the people I love. But it connected me to myself.”
“I promise you that I will never use physical force in any way.”
“I appreciate that. However, I no longer put stock in words.” Long seconds rolled past as they considered each other. “I haven’t had a single romantic interaction since I moved to Islehaven.” She bent her legs up, hooking her heels on the front edge of her chair’s seat. “When you and I were kissing, I remembered . . . pieces of what Gavin did to me that night. That’s why I broke it off so abruptly. It had nothing to do with you.”
“Okay.” He held her gaze. “I want a chance with you. We can go slow. At your pace.”
“It’s just . . . the pace I want is no pace at all. I can’t afford to mess up my current state of wellbeing by attempting a dating relationship. When it comes to the question ofusorme. . . I choose me.”
He didn’t flinch, just as his demeanor earlier had assured her he wouldn’t. “Are you never going to have a dating relationship again?” There was no condemnation in his tone.
“Never’s a big word. I wouldn’t say never. I’d saynot now. Living on Islehaven suits where I’m at with this because there’s no one there to date.”
“There’s Michael.”
“I’d rather embrace lifelong singlehood.”
“What would encourage you to consider dating?”
“More time and the right guy.”
“I’m the right guy and more time isn’t a problem.”
“You’re completely wrong for me.”
“Why?”
“For one thing, through no fault of your own, you share many characteristics with Gavin. You’re both athletes, both wealthy, both handsome, both confident.”
“I am nothing like Gavin.”
“Maybe not in the ways that matter. But you do have enough in common with him to scare me.”
“I hate that I’m similar to him in any way. I wish I wasn’t.”
“Also, while I do find that I’m . . . attracted to you, if I have a relationship with someone, it won’t be with a man who himself is in crisis and who’s”—she gestured toward the house—“wrapped up in materialism.”
Normally, he'd have taken that type of bait as an invitation to defend himself with a comeback or joke with her. This time, he did neither. “Is what happened with Gavin why you didn’t want to come inside the church on Islehaven?” he asked.
“After I was raped, I begged God for justice that didn’t come. But I was still hanging in there with Him, by a thread, after the trial. I prayed and prayed for Him to remove my feelings of betrayal and anger and shame. Based on everything I knew about God, that’s a prayer He should have wanted to answer. For months I prayed. But all those things continued to strangle me. God just sort of . . . left me there. Abandoned. So I stopped praying and believing.”
The quiet whooshing sound of the gas that fed the fire reminded her of the sound she’d heard from God in response to her prayers during those barren, devastated months.
“Do you still feel betrayal, anger, and shame?” he asked.
“For the most part, no.”
“So is it possible that God did answer your prayers eventually?”
