She didn’t need hysteria. She needed calmness. Quiet. Good sense. Which was why she was glad for Elinor’s company. And why she was missing Jordan with a fierceness she’d never felt before. And why she was counting down the days until Liv and Liam arrived.
At least her humiliation was good for something, she supposed. Liv had gotten on the video call and more or less informed them all that she was coming home immediately. Thatof coursethis was what she would do because it was what anyloving sister would. “Oh, and I thought Liam could come too. That way we can have an engagement party.”
“He proposed?” Mum had screeched.
“Yes!” Liv had waggled her ring-clad finger. “So we can’t wait to discuss wedding plans with you all.”
In some ways, EJ was extremely grateful that the good sister had stolen the limelight again. Focus on Liv and Liam meant fewer eyes on her, and after the last few months, she’d be glad not to have anyone’s attention ever again.
Eric and Gwen had both been blocked and deleted as contacts on her phone. She didn’t want to give either of them the time of day, refused to take emails or calls or have any way of messaging them on social media. Harriet was kept busy screening calls, but EJ had said to refuse to listen to them.
And while part of EJ was concerned that perhaps they would get offended and take it out on Dream Match, another part of her just didn’t care. So what if the world had one less dating app? Maybe people would just have to meet others the old-fashioned way, like in church or school or university or at events. She didn’t care anymore, which made such a contrast to six months ago when she lived and breathed Dream Match, and she almost didn’t recognise herself. But then, she’d changed a lot this year. And not in good ways.
She lay on her bed, her gaze fixed on the eucalyptus tree outside, whose white trunk stretched to the heavens. It had grown so much in the twenty years or so that they’d lived here. She still remembered Dad measuring her against the tree, saying they were the exact same height. There was a photograph of that somewhere. Mum never tossed anything out.
But while the tree had grown up tall and sturdy, it felt like EJ had grown a little twisted. No white trunk for her. Instead, hers felt scarred and bent and misshapen. Stained and scratched with the decisions that had warped her. The chase for money. To besuccessful. To be approved. It seemed her best would never be enough. She would never be enough. Never part of the in crowd. Let alone the golden child.
Memories flickered of simpler times. Easier times. Times when she’d known her position in the world and felt like she was the apple of her parents’ eyes. Granted, her parents had four apples, but it remained the same. She’d felt loved and special. So when had she started feeling like she wasn’t enough?
There was the party where she’d been mocked for her clothes. The formal when a boy had tried to kiss her, then spat some nasty names because she wasn’t like other girls. There was the time when she hadn’t scored as well as Liv on a math exam. She’d been sure she would, had prided herself in being the smartest Bennett sibling, in having something uniquely hers. Liv was the good child, EJ was the smart one, Elinor was creative, and Katie was, well, the youngest. To suddenly not feel like the smartest had rocked her and only fed greater determination to prove herself. To feel seen. Chosen. To be enough. Which had probably fed some of her great ambition to make Dream Match even more successful. Her heart panged. So she would feel good enough.
“Lord,” she whispered, “I don’t feel like I’m enough.”
The room was quiet with morning stillness. Then memories flickered of long-ago verses and sermons, reminding her that she was chosen to follow Jesus, to do things His way. She remembered the time at a youth camp when she’d thought she’d heard the audible voice of God saying, “Emma-Jane, follow Me.”
And she’d prayed and recommitted her life to God, but since then she had veered off track. Why? She recognised it now.
Pride. She’d been full of pride. Pride in looking a part, playing a part, performing a part, always wanting to be seen as the best. Always wanting to do things her way. Even demanding that people call her EJ, not Emma-Jane as she’d been christened,was a symptom of her pride. “It’s got to be EJ or the highway,” she’d insisted. And her stubbornness about her name had infected other areas too, until pride and independence was all she seemed to be and do. Which was exactly the opposite of what Jesus told His followers to be. As a Christian, her life was supposed to be Jesus’ way. Not hers.
“Lord, I’m so sorry.”
The room was still. Then, shefelta subtle, inaudible voice. “Emma-Jane, you are My child.”
Emma-Jane.
The name felt like a holy benediction. The reminder that she was God’s child was an even greater one. God’s child. Not because of how good or smart or successful she was. Simply because she was created and she’d chosen to follow Jesus. Jesus, who had done all the heavy lifting for her so she would always know it wasn’t her efforts but His that made all the difference. And yet there she’d been, trying to prove to the world just how great she was.
A sob ripped from her chest. “I’m so sorry, Lord.” She could see how she’d allowed herself to be bedazzled by the lights and perks of fame and success. She knew now just how hollow those things actually were.
Tears dripped onto the pillow as she muffled her weeping. “Lord, forgive me. Set me free from this need to prove myself. I want to follow You again.”
Her eyelids felt sticky, her pillowcase would need a wash, but inside she felt clean, like God Himself had said she was forgiven.
A tap came at the door, soon followed by Elinor’s voice. “EJ? Are you okay in there?”
After contemplating pretending to be asleep, she finally croaked out, “Yes.”
“Did you want anything from down the street?”
“No. Thanks,” she added.
Oh, why hadn’t she bothered to be kind? How often had EJ taken her family for granted? So many times, for so many years. And not just her family, but people like Jordan and his parents too. How could she ever have been so full of herself that she had forgotten their great generosity and kindness over the years? She was a bad friend. Didn’t deserve Jordan. He’d be much better off with someone else.
She tugged the blanket closer, the faux-mink feel adding a weight and a warmth that had long felt luxurious, even if it was fake. But then, that had proved pretty true of her life lately, hadn’t it? Her, thinking she knew best, chasing the allure of gold only to find out it was brass. Jordan had been right—she’d been blinded by the big-city lights and unable to recognise what was real. She’d tried to do things in her own strength and only now realised just how far short she had fallen. She couldn’t do things on her own. She had always known that she needed others, but the kinds of people she’d thought she needed had proved false. Instead, the ones she truly did need had been here all this time.
God. Her family. Harriet. Jordan.
Her heart ached, and she closed her eyes, snuggling the blanket up to her lips. Elinor had said Jordan was in California, doing something amazing for Donwell there, no doubt.
