Putting my fork down, I complied.
“What was in the note you gave me on exam day junior year? The one I crumpled and threw away without reading?”
His hand stilled as it was reaching for his glass.
“Wow. That wasnotwhat I was expecting,” he said, his eyes searching mine.
“I was angry, Niko. Hurt and angry.” I looked away, shame filling me. “I was also stressed and needed to prove myself to Logan all over again. All I saw in you was the enemy. Someone who had wronged me.”
His hand slowly snaked across the table, my heart in my throat. He took my hand in his and squeezed it.
“God has forgiven me forsomany things in my life, including being angry with Him after getting my diagnosis, and the anger I felt toward the mean kids in school, just to name a few.”
He stopped, so again, I waited. This was too important.Hewas too important.
“I need His forgiveness every day, it seems. And if He can forgive me for all that I put Him through, I can forgive you.That’s how this works, Leyla. We all have fallen short of His glory. We fall short every single day. How can I ask Him to keep forgiving me if I withhold forgiveness from you?”
“Niko.” His whispered name from my lips felt so powerful. That one word held gratitude and awe.
“It was forgiven a long time ago.” He squeezed my hand again and let it go, pulling his hand back. I never wanted anything as much as I wanted my hand back in his strong one.
“What did the note say?” I asked. “I really need to know.” My voice had dropped to a whisper. With everything in me, I just knew its contents were a gift.
He straightened in his seat and held my gaze.
“I had been praying for you. From the moment it looked like you might get into trouble, I started praying that God would protect you since I had failed.”
My eyes bounced between his, waiting.
“The note said…” Niko’s phone pinged with a notification. Groaning at the interruption and grumbling an apology for not turning it off earlier, he slid it from his pocket. “Oh no.”
Alarmed, I asked, “What’s wrong?”
“It’s Mike. SOS. Needs me to call,” he said, concern written on his face.
“Do you think he’s been in an accident?” I asked, worried.
“I don’t know. Let me call him.”
A few minutes later, his call went through. “Hey, are you okay.?” He looked at me. “Yes, I’m with Leyla. It’s fine. What happened? No, it’s okay. I’ll box up our meal, bring Leyla home, and be on my way. No, she’s not going to hate you. Yes. I know you love me. Hang tight. Bye.”
“What’s going on?”
“He thinks he broke his arm rock climbing. I’m so sorry, Leyla. I promise to make this up to you.”
I was already getting our server’s attention. “Why is he rock climbing this time of night?”
“It’s an indoor place,” he explained. “They’re insisting on calling an ambulance, but he’s going to need help tonight after the ER visit.”
Letting our server know to box up everything, we waited for the check.
“I can get an Uber home, you know. So you can get to him sooner.”
“Absolutely not. I’ll just be worrying about you, too,” he said, signing the credit card receipt when the server hurried it over to our table.
As we walked to his car, I said, “I’ll admit it’s been a while since I’ve needed an Uber but…”
“Not happening,” he said firmly. “Please let me take you home. Once you’re safely inside, I can concentrate on my big oaf of a friend.”
