“I don’t—I don’t have anything to wear.”
“No one there cares what you wear,” I tell her. “But we can call Anastasia and see if she has a dress or something you can borrow if you want? If you’re uncomfortable, then that’s okay, too. We have about an hour before service starts.”
Her gaze shifts from the Bible to me, out the window, then back to me. “No, it’s fine. If you want to go, I’ll go.”
They’re the exact words she spoke to me the first time I asked her to go to church with me. I know she’d only gone because she was afraid to go home, and maybe it’s a similar reason here, but I can’t keep the joy from saturating my heart. Maybe if I can remind her just how powerful her faith is, she can find it again.
She can find Him again.
“It’s been a while for me, too,” she says as she nervously toys with her mug.
“How long?”
Her gaze levels on mine, and the heaviness in it isn’t something I miss. “Since the last time we went together.”
It’s a day branded in my memory, like so many others from that time of my life. The time I spent with her. Every moment is etched into the very fabric of my being. “The Wednesday night service before our wedding.”
She nods. “I don’t even remember what the sermon was, but I remember sitting there, wondering how I could speed up time so we could just be married already.” Her soft laugh lacks all humor. “I guess it’s a shame I couldn’t figure it out.”
Reaching across, I cover her hand with mine. “Things aren’t set in stone, Tessa.”
“In some cases, they are.” She pulls her hand away, retreating even after the closeness last night, and stands. “I’ll get ready to go. I’m sure I can find something to wear.”
Chapter 20
Tessa
The loud echoing of happy voices from everyone who has gathered in the fellowship hall for a Sunday potluck should bring me a bit of joy, too. But the weight of the sermon I just listened to, and the depth of my own sins, have me feeling a bit lost even in this place where I once felt more at home than anywhere else.
Everyone has been incredibly welcoming, telling me that they are so happy to see me and they’re so glad that I’m home. How do I tell them that I feel more lost than before? More confused than ever?
“How are you feeling?” Anastasia asks as she links her arm through mine.
I glance over at Zane, who is in what looks like a happy conversation with Garrison and a teenage boy I’ve never seen before. Every now and then, he scans the room for me, smiling when our gazes lock. Almost like he’s expecting me to disappear.
I’ve definitely thought about slipping out, but I just can’t bring myself to do that. Not again. Running seems to be my default setting, and I’m trying so hard to change it.
“I’m okay. Why? Do I look that lost?” I ask, hoping that my tone is light-hearted instead of weighted down by the very real turmoil I’m in.
She smiles softly. “A little.”
“Anastasia!” a woman calls out.
“Oh, sorry. Be right back.” Anastasia squeezes my arm gently before veering off toward the right.
Unsure what else to do and desperate for some air, I move out of the fellowship hall and into the otherwise empty sanctuary.
Stormwatch Landing’s church hasn’t changed much over the years. Aside from the fresh altar flowers that get changed out with each new service, the place looks almost exactly the same.
I still remember the first time I came here.
It was with Zane and his family. I’d been so nervous—terrified, really—because everyone in town knew who I was and who my parents were. I was certain they’d judge me for being here. Maybe even mock me for daring to enter God’s house, considering my bloodline.
But all I’d found was a welcoming array of people who were glad to see me.
The pews are lined up on both sides, leading up to an altar that has a large wooden cross made from driftwood. There are broken chains beneath it, signifying the way Jesus broke our chains when He came to die for us.
I remember standing here in awe for the first time, trying to wrap my head around that type of love. Truthfully, I still don’t understand it.
