He just hoped that he could get her to see that he wasn’t scared off by what he’d learned. If anything, it had given him hope because now he knew what they were up against.
She hadn’t wanted him going into a relationship blindly, and now he wasn’t.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Amelia opened the container that held her salad, inhaling the aroma of the steak mingling with the vinaigrette dressing. It smelled wonderful, but the conversation they were gearing up to have slightly blunted her appetite.
She knew they’d have to talk about the contents of the binder, and Amelia was sure that Ben wouldn’t put it off. Though she’d wanted him to be informed before pursuing a relationship with her, she still wasn’t sure that getting involved with Ben was what was best for him.
Even though she loved him—and always had—she hated the idea of trapping him into a life that would be dictated by her health. Sooner or later, she was sure he’d get tired of having to constantly take her symptoms into account whenever he made plans.
She was still in the early days of adjusting to her diagnosis, so she had no idea what her future looked like. And neither did Ben.
“What did you think of the sermon this morning?” Ben asked.
Amelia looked at him in surprise. Apparently, he’d decided that the binder discussion could be put off for the time being. And while she was happy about that, she wasn’t sure that she wanted to talk about spiritual things either.
“It was good,” she said. “I wasn’t sure I’d like another pastor as much as I liked Pastor Kennedy, but Pastor Simmons has been good for the church.”
“I like what he said this morning about having a firm foundation for our faith.”
Amelia nodded, aware of where the conversation might go, and not really wanting to discuss it.
“It gave me a perspective on how you might have dealt with everything that has happened to you over the past couple of years.”
Amelia gave him a curious look. Did he honestly think she’d handled the changes in her life with grace and acceptance, believing there was good in what had happened to her?
“Were you mad at God about having to give up your career?”
The blunt question left her with nowhere to hide. Should she lie?
It was so tempting because the truth left her vulnerable. However, if her goal was to keep a distance between them, maybe learning that she wasn’t the spiritual person he thought she was might make him take a step back from pursuing a relationship.
“I was,” she admitted. “I… am.”
Ben stared at her for a long moment, his blue gaze intense. “That’s understandable.” His brow furrowed. “Is that anger a burden for you?”
Amelia shifted on her chair, her gaze going out over the neighborhood.
Was it?
The weight of her anger had been with her for so long, she hardly noticed it anymore. Just like with the physical pain, the anger had become a constant companion.
"Yes," she finally said. "It is." She looked down at her salad, pushing a piece of steak to the side with her fork. "I feel guilty about it, and that adds to the burden."
"Why guilty?"
"Because I know I shouldn't be angry with God. I know all the right answers—that His ways are higher than mine, that there's a purpose in suffering." She stabbed at a piece of lettuce. “But I don't see it. At first, I prayed and prayed for healing, for answers, for peace. But there were no answers to those prayers, so I just stopped praying. And the anger… well, it just lingered."
Ben set his fork down, his meal forgotten for the moment. "That must have been an incredibly difficult time."
"It was." Amelia felt a tightness in her chest, the familiar pressure that came whenever she allowed herself to think about her spiritual struggles. "Everyone at church kept saying things like 'God has a plan' or 'Everything happens for a reason.' But when you're the one living with pain every day, those platitudes don’t help very much.”
“I’m sure those people were well-meaning,” Ben said. “They probably hoped they were helping you.”
"I know, but I still feel angry," she whispered. "I trained for years—sacrificed so much—only to have it ripped away right when I should have been at my peak. And for what? What possible purpose could there be in that?"
Ben’s expression softened with understanding. "I don't have an answer for that. I wish I did."
