Page 52 of The Game She Hates

“It’s not the same thing. I’ve never done anything to hurt you. But my dad...” He pauses, his expression troubled. “He’s bad news. And the worst part is that my aunt believes he’s changed. I know it’s only a matter of time before she calls me telling me about some new damage he’s caused.”

I lock eyes with him. “Forgiving is a huge part of the Christian life, and trust me, I know it’s hard. But when He asks you to give your dad another chance—when, not if—He will give you the strength to do so.”

“How will I know for sure that he’s asking me to do it and it’s not just misplaced pity?”

“The same way you knew you needed to accept Him into your heart and get baptized soon after.” Memories of all the times Jesus made things clear to me and led me to act on them, despite my emotions, come to mind. “And the peace that will accompany that decision will be another sign.”

“I’m afraid it’s already happening. This was my biggest fear before getting baptized, and after today’s sermon, I’ve had this lingering, strong feeling about it. Pastor Marcus didn’t even mention anything close to forgiveness,” he says, clenching his teeth, the tension visible in his jaw.

I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. “I promise you, everything will be okay. I’m here for you as much as you need me.”

He kisses my cheek. “I feel like I’m dreaming. Are we really together?”

I bat my eyes, allowing myself to be drawn into the ocean of his gaze. “Well, you haven’t exactly called me your girlfriend yet, and you just said that the strong feeling you had since our church service wasn’t about me but about your dad.” I try hard to keep a serious face. “So, you tell me.” I unwrap my arms and fold them against my chest. “Are we really together?”

“I’m sorry, Sweet P. I’ve never been on a date with a woman I loved. I’m not sure what the protocol is.”

A gasp escapes my lips.

“See, I can’t even wait for the right moment before confessing my true feelings. But, Pearl Davis, I’m in love with you, and I have been for a long time now. You’re my girlfriend now.”

Words leave my brain and my heart races at the speed of light.

All I want to do is to say it back.

He puts a finger on my lips. “You don’t have to say it back. I want you to feel the same confidence I feel about us when you do.”

He seals my mouth with a kiss, one that I’m sure is meant to stop me from saying it back. And that’s okay, because I want it to be special when he hears it.

34

Zane Ortiz

“What if this is a mistake?” I turn to Pearl, her head resting on my shoulder as the plane touches down in Chicago.

“It’s a huge leap of faith, but it’s not a mistake,” she reassures me, gently squeezing my hand.

When the plane begins to settle, passengers start to rise, and we watch as everyone hurriedly retrieves their bags from the overhead compartments.

Choosing to reroute my trip to Chicago instead of Detroit is the reason I’m flying commercial with Pearl. But being with her in economy feels far richer than any luxury charter flight could offer.

Pearl makes a move to grab her carry-on, but I beat her to it. With a grin, I gather both mine and hers, along with the business suit I brought along, and hand her my light backpack.

Outside the cramped aircraft, she hooks her arm in mine.

O’Hare Airport is one of the biggest and busiest airports I’ve ever been to. I like the architecture and the efficient TSA, but the chaos is too much. Pearl and I try to weave through as fast as we can.

The delicious scent of food wafts from nearby eateries, enticing us since it’s already two in the afternoon and we still haven’t had lunch. The snacks Pearl packed for us have long vanished from my system. But as tempting as the smells are, we resist the urge to indulge. Aunt Melissa begged to cook us a late lunch, and showing up with anything less than a voracious appetite would definitely hurt her feelings.

It’s been a week since Pearl and I started dating, and every day I discover something new about her. Whether it’s stories from her childhood or insights into her work—though she never calls it that. It’s her calling and ministry—I’m still awestruck by her being mine.

She’s more than just an amazing girlfriend—she’s become my best friend, my rock, and my biggest cheerleader. If it weren’t for her encouragement, I doubt I would have listened to the little voice in my heart that has, for so long, urged me to see Dad. I could have easily kept brushing it off, delaying the inevitable, but Pearl’s unwavering belief in me made me believe I could do it.

Even now, as we stand at the rental service, about to pick up a car and drive fifteen minutes to see the man I’d long ago written off, I still feel the pull to turn around and head straight to Detroit, where our final game awaits in just a couple of days. But Pearl and I have made plans to make the drive tomorrow. We aligned our arrival with the rest of the team.

Everything feels so right between Pearl and me, but there’s one thing she hasn’t said yet: those three life-changing words, “I love you.” It’s not that I’ve been dwelling on it every time I’ve said it, expecting her to echo it back. Her actions speak volumes—the way she looks at me, the way she devotes all her time to us, the kisses she doesn’t hold back—it’s as if I already have her whole heart.

But there’s a nagging fear in the back of my mind. Her not saying it back leaves a tiny crack in our otherwise perfect connection. We’ve promised each other honesty and open communication, but I don’t want to jeopardize anything by bringing it up too soon. It’s only been a week, and she hasn’t given me any reason to doubt her commitment.

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