“She okay?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I said something I shouldn’t have.”
“Which was?”
Not even wanting to say it, I cast my line out again. I set my rod down, sit on the other log, and look up at Dad.
“I told her she was putting Brantley before God. That I won’t be a friend who supports her bad decisions.”
“So…little harsh.”
“I hung up on her too.”
“That’s usually how it goes.” He lets out a laugh followed bya sigh.
“She didn’t come to Sunday school. Said Brantley didn’t want to go.” I shake my head. “And I lost it, I guess. I’ve been trying to get her to see the bigger picture and also trying to support her. But watching him treat her like he does—” I stop, my jaw tight. “I can’t.”
Dad scrapes his boot across the stones before looking at me again. “Loving someone doesn’t mean you beat them with your opinion.”
“I wasn’t trying to.” I rub a hand over my face. “I just…she doesn’t see it the way I can. From the outside. It’s like she’s just waiting for him to change overnight and he’s not going to. She’s wasting her time.”
“Wes, that’s for her to figure out. You tried to help, sounds like a few times, and all you can do now is give her space to breathe. Love her from a distance. You can’t make her see what she doesn’t want to.”
I nod. My throat is thick when I say, “She’s not even mine, but I’m scared I already lost her.”
“For right now, maybe.”
“I don’t know what to do now,” I admit. Looking down at my hands. This feeling of guilt weighing on me is heavier than anything I’ve felt before.
“You be like Jesus.”
I look at him. “You think I should be crucified?” I say in mock offense.
“No! No, of course not!” He laughs. “You pray for her. Be patient and don’t stop loving her. Just like Jesus.”
Those words hit me hard.
“I really do love her,” I admit out loud for the first time. I hold my breath, not wanting to look up.
“I know you do,” Dad says. My eyes flick to him. He’s got a smile on his face as he stands.
As he walks back up towards the house, I let the peace and quiet settle. The guilt in my chest still barely letting up. I have a feeling it’s going to stay this way for a while.
I reel in my line slowly. The hook’s empty.
Figures.
* * *
I take my time walking back up from the creek, boots brushing through the field towards the house. I’m glad my dad came to talk; we don’t do that much. He isn’t one for feelings and neither am I. Guess that’s where I get it.
When I get to the driveway, I see Jesse’s truck. He and Blake are standing outside talking while Caden mills around, a stick in hand. Jesse spots me and nods me over. Blake takes Caden’s hand and heads back towards their house.
My stomach knots more with each step I take forward.
“Catch anything?” he asks, his tone even.
“Nah,” I say, standing a few feet away. I look at him as he leans against his truck door and crosses his arms loosely over his chest, staring at me for just a beat.
