Page 66 of Not Until I Found You

“Yeah,” Ashton says, unconvinced, glancing over toward where Maxinne and Wren are deep in conversation. “That’s kinda the problem.”

We’re quiet again, an awkwardness buzzing between us as I wait for the questions I know are about to come. The ones he’s measuring carefully before deciding whether to voice them or not. Ashton scrubs a hand over his jaw, eyes drifting toward the girls again.

“You like her.” He glances at me.

And there it is. The thing I haven’t said out loud. The truth I’ve been skirting around, pretending I could keep it contained. I consider denying it, telling him it’s nothing more than friendship between me and her, but I’ve never lied to him, and I’m not about to start now.

“Yeah. I do,” I confess, my head dropping slightly.

Ashton’s brows knit together. “Why do you sound like that’s a bad thing?”

“It’s not,” I say quickly. “I mean, it is, but not because of her.”

I scrub a hand over the back of my neck again, a nervous habit of mine, as I search for words that won’t show my weakness.

“I don’t want to like her.”

He straightens, concern replacing his curiosity. “Why? Because you think I’d be mad?”

“That’s part of it,” I admit. “You told me to stay away from her and because you’re my best friend. I’d never do anything to risk our friendship.” I swallow, my jaw tightening. “But it’s more than that.”

He waits. The silence stretches between us as my pulse thunders in my ears. My every instinct is telling me to keep this buried where it’s been safe for years. But Ashton deserves the truth.

He perks up, his brows pulling together as he tries to understand. “What is it?”

“I’m not ready for what liking her will mean for me.”

“And what do you think it’ll mean?”

I let out a shaky exhale, not ready to voice this out loud but also desperate for someone else to hear it. I could use his advice on this situation. Fear grips my throat, forcing the words back down, and I have to fight to get them out.

“It means,” I start, then stop, my throat locking up. I force a shaky breath in, before I continue. “It means I’ll have someone to lose again. And I don’t know if I’m strong enough to survive it.”

Ashton gives me an understanding nod and doesn’t speak right away. The wind moves through the trees, leaves whispering overhead. It feels like the whole world is holding its breath, waiting for what either of us is going to say or do next.

He runs a hand through his wet curls, studying me for a moment, before he speaks again. “I get that. I think part of the reason why you and I seem to hold on to things so tightly is because we both fear that something as great won’t happen twice.”

I know Ashton is speaking from his own experience. His wife left, and he never let anyone close enough to replace what she took with her. He understood my pain with Lily in a way no one else ever has. We’ve learned how to survive by guarding what’s left of our hearts.

“But don’t you think that if God wants you to be with someone, He’ll make it happen at the right time and with the right person. It’s not something that needs to be forced or fought. It comes from trusting Him enough to let it unfold.”

I swallow. “You think God wants me to be with Maxinne?”

He studies me for a moment before answering. “I don’t know if she’s the one, per se, but what if she is?”

The question lands square in my chest, and for a second, I can’t get air around it.

“If God puts someone in front of you,” Ashton goes on, “are you really going to turn away from her just because you’re scared of losing her?”

I shake my head slowly. “How would I even know if He’s chosen her? She’s going back to college at the end of summer and has a whole life somewhere else.”

Ashton’s mouth curves into a half-smile. “God doesn’t ask us to see the whole picture. He only wants us to take the next step of faith. He’ll give you discernment, Zane. Not so you see things how you want them to be, but how they truly are.”

My gaze wanders toward Maxinne again. She’s laughing at something Wren has said, and the invisible tug is back. Maybe it’s the Holy Spirit, or it’s the quiet echo that follows after you admit the truth to yourself. Either way, it feels like a nudge telling me that something is waiting for me on the other side of everything I’ve endured. And all it requires is one small thing from me.

Faith.

“Thanks,” I say, breaking the silence and glancing back at my best friend.