His gift might have cost just a fraction of the others’, but it was all the more significant because she knew he hadn’t got a personal shopper or one of his “people” to buy whatever counted as an appropriate gift these days. She could just imagine Gwen ordering something expensive from David Jones and getting it gift-wrapped then sent to her office, something where the price tag was more important than thoughtfulness and care.
But this gift … This gift was personal. She knew what it meant. It meant more because of their shared history. It meant more because she’d long stored Jordan’s words deep within her heart. And while the others’ gifts may have cost more—oh, who was she kidding? Ofcoursethey cost more—she valued this gift more highly because of what it represented.
The heart of her friend whom she’d spurned. The one whose gift she’d been sorely tempted to throw away. The man who had come today, who had come through in so many ways so many times before. The man whose friendship now felt as fragile as a spiderweb in the morning.
A friendship hanging by a thread, where just one wrong move might snap it for eternity. Might destroy their friendship forever. Perhaps it already was lost forever, irretrievably broken because for years she had thought that she wanted this life, only to discover the bright lights had blinded her to what was truly important.
A wave of sadness rose and cascaded over her, and she collapsed into the sofa and sobbed.
Chapter 19
Ben’s words chased Jordan all the way back to Highbury, then through his shower, then his dreams. He barely slept as conversations tumbled over one another, until he wasn’t even really sure just what had been said anymore. EJ. Eric. Gwen. Ben. So many people, so many questions, so many doubts, so many fears.
He’d been glad for the solo car trip back to the farm, glad for the chance to pray out loud and not have to explain himself. Glad also that he didn’t have to hide a couple of stupid tears that had dared leak. He didn’t want people asking questions, and he was thankful that he had arrived home late enough that Mum and Dad were in bed and couldn’t hassle him. He still had lots of wrestling to do, with his thoughts, his actions, and with God.
Real friends held each other accountable. And he couldn’t keep propping up EJ’s fragile ego. She needed to get back to God, not chasing money or being seen on the arm of a shady billionaire’s son. And the only one who could truly help was God. God needed to help her. And help him.
Because Jordan knew now that spending time with EJ was not healthy for him. It only fed his own envy and insecurities andthese unwanted feelings that soared a little close to unrequited love.
He gritted his teeth. There. He’d said it. Or at least thought it. He loved her. And okay, maybe some of his truth-telling yesterday at Bondi had stemmed from jealousy, but it didn’t mean the other still wasn’t true.
And while part of him was glad he had said what he had, another part wished that there had been a different way to help her hear the truth.
He rolled over to his side, propped the pillow a little higher, watched the midnight shadows creep across the wall. In the distance, he heard theclick, clickof Bella’s toenails on the floor, and he wondered where she was going. She took her guard dog job a little too seriously sometimes.
Maybe a little like he had.
“Lord, if I went in too strong, please forgive me. And help her to forgive me.” Friends held each other accountable, but they didn’t hurt or abuse. The book of Proverbs reminded that open rebuke was better than love carefully concealed, and that faithful were the wounds of a friend, but the kisses of an enemy were deceitful.
“Lord if there’s some way You can bring the truth out, then please do so.”
Peace nudged his soul.
“Jesus, comfort her, comfort me.”
He closed his eyes. And finally slept.
“What time did you get in?” Mum asked when he made a tousle-haired appearance the next morning and kissed her cheek.
“Just past eleven. I’m surprised you didn’t hear Bella going off with all her barking.” He slipped in two pieces of bread intothe toaster, then readied the Vegemite. Butter and a smear of Vegemite on hot toast: perfection.
“How did things go at EJ’s party?”
He looked at her.
“That good, huh?”
“Next question.”
“Right. Uh, care to join us for lunch today? We’re celebrating John Bennett’s birthday.”
“I forgot his birthday was so close to EJ’s.”
His mum raised her eyebrows, but Jordan wasn’t going to bite. “I don’t want to talk about her, Mum.”
“My sweet boy.”
Moisture laced the back of his eyes, and he shook his head. “Please don’t. This is hard enough as it is.”
