Page 40 of The Game She Hates

Seeing her there gave me the willpower to push through that last period because I thought she came to watch me. I mean, she was wearing my number for crying out loud.

I don’t know what I’m missing with her. The way she looks at me contradicts the distance she gives me.

I didn’t bother trying to call because she had resolved not to answer my calls, even before the game.

I stand in front of my closet, deliberating between a charcoal gray and navy suit for the wedding. My phone suddenly rings on the bed. Glancing over, I see Aunt Melissa’s name flashing on the screen. It’s been a month, and I’ve been meaning to call her, but time always slipped away. There’s so much I need to catch her up on.

“Hi, Aunt Mel!” I greet enthusiastically.

“Hi, sweetheart. I hope this is a good time to call,” Aunt Melissa’s voice comes through the phone. A sinking feeling settles in my stomach. This isn’t her usual way of starting conversations. She always asks how I’m doing first.

“It is. You sound like something is wrong.”

She sighs heavily. “I wouldn’t be calling you about this if I didn’t think it was a good idea. Your dad’s been released and he really wants to talk to you.”

I let out an exasperated huff. I’ve severed all ties with that man ages ago. If kids could divorce parents, I would’ve expunged his DNA from my system long ago. I have no desire to see someone who has only brought harm since the day I was born.

“Aunt Mel, I don’t consider myself related to that man anymore,” I say, trying to keep my tone steady.

“I know he hurt you. He knows it too, that’s why he hasn’t reached out.”

“Not reaching out to me since I gained my independence from him has been his MO.”

“No, Zane, this time he knows it, and he wants to apologize. He’s changed.”

My eyes practically roll out of their sockets. “Apologize? How does someone apologize for tormenting their child? Please, tell me if you know.”

All this talk dampens my mood. For the past couple of weeks, nothing had been able to weigh down my heart. I felt invincible. Finally free. Not even Trent’s attitude, or the relentless hustle of life, or missing Pearl had managed to drag me back into the depths of the ocean I’d been pulled from since I accepted Jesus into my life.

“Jesus saved him, Zane. I’ve known your dad for most of my life, and the Ortiz I’ve been meeting with this week is someone new, someone transformed. Someone who acknowledges all the hurt they’ve caused. He wants nothing more than to be heard.”

All this time, I’d been thinking Aunt Melissa was on my side. Being my mom’s older sister, she should be looking out for me like she always had. But now, after one encounter with my “saved” dad, she chooses his feelings over mine.

I know God is forgiving, and He’s forgiven me, but I haven’t done anything close to what my dad has done. I don’t think a guy like him can stop himself from hurting people.

I’ve always aspired to be a better man, so following Jesus is the only path for me to become the man I’ve always wanted to be. A man entirely different from my dad. But Dad—not once in his life did he ever strive to do a single good thing. How could he even consider Jesus? Jesus, who preached the gospel of love, kindness and self-control?

“I’m not interested. Listen, I have a wedding to attend and I’m running late. Talk to you later,” I say hastily, not allowing her the chance to insist, and then hang up.

I toss the phone onto my bed and sink to the edge, my hands running down my face in frustration. I didn’t even get the chance to share my testimony with her.

Dad ruined that, just like he ruins everything.

But this new chapter of my life has to be different.

The sermon I watched on Sunday—I didn’t attend in person to avoid making Pearl uncomfortable, since the last thing I want is for her to think I’m on my faith journey to get close to her—talked about the old passing away and the new being here. That’s what it’ll be from now on.

No more letting Dad control me from afar. No more allowing him to dictate my mood, stoke my anger, and embitter me about life. This is my second chance, the clean slate I’ve been given, and I don’t want anything that would drag me back into the depths of despair.

I clasp my hands together and bring them to my forehead, the same way I saw Tyler do it the two times I’ve joined his Bible study. “Hi, God, it’s me again. Hopefully, You’re getting used to my attempts to piece together a prayer. I know I’m not as articulate as Tyler or Carson, or any of their friends. But I have a feeling You care more about the sincerity of my heart than the eloquence of my words. So I trust my jumbled prayers have been reaching You fine. I need Your help with this situation with my dad. I love Aunt Mel, and I have no doubt she cares about me, but please help her see that my dad only has bad intentions. Help her not to be deceived by him. I’ve lived with him longer and I know he’s capable of breaking her heart now that she believes he’s changed. Protect her heart when that happens, and help me remain calm the next time we talk. She’ll be happy to know I’ve found faith in Jesus. I pray the conversation is special and not tainted by my dad. Thank You for listening to me for the third time today. I’ll be back with another praise or request. Amen.”

With a clearer mind, I finally decide on the navy suit, as if I needed to consult with God before making up my mind. After applying some aftershave and running a comb through my hair, I grab my black shoes and slide them on.

I’m certain the ceremony will be halfway through when I get there, so I quickly head out.

I snagged a last row seat in the ceremony, but even from far away, my vision is fixed on one of the bridesmaids who completely steals the air from my lungs. Pearl might as well be the one in white because Duke and Kate only received a single glance from me.

Pearl looks beyond stunning in her teal dress. She’s typically pleasantly feminine in her clothing, but I’ve never seen her in a dress that hugs her curves like this one does—her amazing form on display for all to see.

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