Eden’s eyes narrow at me, ignoring Griffin completely. “You think God smiles on this? This is sin parading as comfort.” She’s almost to the point of being hysterical. I bet this visit isn’t going how she imagined. I wonder if her husband Douglas or my parents know she’s here. Probably. They no doubt discussed it over dinner last night, then spent the evening praying on it. She probably thought she would come in here, see me crying and struggling, wanting to give her my baby because life got too hard.
But I don’t cower at hard. I thrive in it.
I step forward, pulse thudding. “You want scripture?” My voice is steadier than I expect. “Try John 8:7: ‘Let any one of you who is without sin be the first to throw a stone at her.’”
She scoffs. “Don’t twist the Word to justify your shame.”
“I’m not twisting anything. I’m reminding you that grace exists. That God doesn’t abandon people because they fall. He meets them there.”
Eden’s mouth opens, but Griffin cuts in. “And James 1:17 says, ‘Every good and perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of the heavenly lights, who does not change like shifting shadows.’ That includes this baby. Doesn’t matter how it got here. It’s here. It’s loved.”
Eden’s face flushes red, but she doesn’t speak. Her silence hangs in the air.
I rest my hand on my belly again, not to shield, but to claim. “You don’t get to decide what God forgives. And you don’t get to decide anything about my baby.”
Eden’s eyes flicker. For a second, I see raw rage swirling. But it’s gone as fast as it came.
She turns toward the door. “You’ll regret this.”
Griffin’s hand tightens in mine. “Not today.”
She pushes out the door so fast it bangs against the frame, and I blow out a breath.
“You alright?” Griffin faces me, his eyes moving quickly over my bump and back again.
“Yeah…” My shoulders sag as I rub my belly, ensuring the baby knows it’s loved regardless of what their aunt says.
Griffin's hand rests on mine, and I look up at him. His large, warm hand encases my own, placing a caring touch to the bump like he knows we both need it. If anyone was walking past, they would assume he’s the father, touching me like he is. It’s intimate, yet I feel entirely comfortable in his embrace.
“Your sister?”
“The one and only.” I take a deep breath, trying to fill my lungs, but this baby has everything squished so tight it’s almost impossible.
“I’m proud of you. Sticking up for yourself. Sticking up for your baby.” His thumb brushes across my belly before his hand glides around my back and he pulls me tight. I feel his lips on the top of my head, him breathing in my hair, and I close my eyes as my head hits his chest and I hug him close. Feeling safe. Protected. Maybe even loved. It’s been a long time since I let go and leaned on someone like this. Both physically and emotionally. My grandparents are probably the last time I truly trusted someone and knew they were on my side.
“So you remember some verses?” I speak into his shirt as I think about our conversation about religion we had after the baby shower.
“I may be old, but my memory is still strong. I found a bit of solace in the Bible when I was in juvie and have a few that I remember well.” His hold on me remains. Like he knows I need it. For just a moment longer.
“You were in juvie?” I pull back and look up at him, and his face darkens a little.
“For a time.” He nods. I shouldn’t pry, but curiosity gets the better of me.
“What for?” My words are quiet, and I watch him swallow before he takes a breath.
“Assault with intention to harm.”
I frown, not seeing that from Griffin at all. Sure, he’s big, burly, a little guarded. But with intention to harm?
“Who was it?” I prod some more, fully expecting him to walk away, but he takes another steadying breath and tells me.
“Former foster father who was assaulting younger kids in his care. He didn’t give a shit about me. I was almost aged out of the system by that point. But the younger kids, they were going to have to stay with him a lot longer. They wouldn’t have survived so someone had to do something.”
My heart clenches as I nod in understanding. While I don’t condone violence, I can see how Griffin would protect those who couldn’t protect themselves.
“To protect the innocent is a righteous duty.”
His shoulders lower at my words. Like a load has been lifted.
