Page 53 of The Game She Hates

Maybe I’ll give it another week before I broach the subject. I’ll need to find the right words, though. I don’t want her to feel pressured or rushed into saying something she’s not ready to express. It’s just that her actions already say it all, and I can’t shake this feeling that she’s holding back for a specific reason.

Maybe after I talk to my dad, she’ll see how serious I am about obeying God, and she’ll fully trust me to eventually lead her when we get married someday. Yes, she hasn’t said she loves me yet, but she’s made enough allusions to our future together to give me hope.

So you see why I’m a little worried.

We settle into the rental car and begin our drive to Aunt Melissa’s house, my heart quickens its pace, much like it has the entire flight here.

The sun shines brightly. It’s a perfect summer day. I grew up in Chicago, but I never miss living in the city. It was a bit much, especially with all the memories of my childhood.

Life in Bedford has been kind to me, and it’s not a long drive from Boston when I need a little chaos—which usually comes from the team anyway.

“I don’t even know what to say to him.”

“Listen,” Pearl says gently, her voice calming my nerves. “Don’t try to come up with the perfect words. Just give him a chance to tell you what he’s called you for, and trust the Holy Spirit to guide your conversation.”

“But what if I lash out? After all these years of resentment, I don’t trust myself to speak kindly to him.”

She reaches out and her touch immediately grounds me. She offers a prayer for self-control and wisdom and asks God to glorify himself today. When she finishes, her hand gives mine a gentle squeeze.

I turn to her for a split second, offering a smile, before returning my attention to the road.

She is wearing a cozy baby blue sweater, yoga pants, and sandals, her hair swept up in a messy bun. I’m always attracted to her, but when she goes to the Father for me, that attraction is almost uncontainable.

It’s usually expected for a man to make a woman feel protected and safe, but she also does that for me in ways I never knew I needed. I feel secure, grounded and at peace with her because she involves Jesus in every aspect of her life—and now mine too.

We pull into Aunt Melissa’s driveway, and memories of past summers spent here come flooding back. This was always my sanctuary, my escape from Dad’s torment. Now he’s inside, and I’m going in.

Can I really do this?

“Look at me,” Pearl commands, and I quickly turn to meet her gaze, wondering if she can see the hesitation written all over my face.

I don’t want to disappoint her.

“I need you to know something important before you go in there.” She releases a long, slow breath. “I love you with every fiber of my being, every beat of my heart, and every breath that graces my lips. I can’t express enough how amazing you are as a person. Even if you don’t feel ready and choose not to go in there, my love for you is irrevocable. My heart belongs to you, Zane Ortiz, no matter what you choose to do right now.”

Moisture invades my eyes. “I really needed to hear you say this. I’m having second thoughts, but there’s a deep feeling that’s convinced I need to go.”

“I won’t leave your side unless you tell me to.”

“I won’t ask you to go anywhere. And you’re used to working through family dynamics, so I could use you in every capacity,” I quip.

She swats my arm. “Zane, I’m not your therapist and never have been. I’m your girlfriend who loves you.”

“I love you too, Sweet P.” I pull her hands and kiss her knuckles.

“I love you even more,” Pearl says with a bubbly voice. I suppose now we can compete to see who loves the other one more. It used to seem like a silly game, but now it’s all I want to do. Though we don’t have time for that, I have a feeling either Aunt Melissa or Dad already knows we’re here.

When the door opens, I realize I’ve been holding my breath, and I exhale in relief when I see Aunt Melissa.

“Honey!” she exclaims, pulling me into a tight hug that lingers. “I’ve missed you so much. And look at you!” She steps back to take a good look at me, her hands gently patting my arms. “You’ve become even more handsome.”

Then she notices Pearl behind me and almost knocks me out of the way. “And you must be Pearl Davis!” Aunt Melissa envelops Pearl in a hug. “I’ve heard so much about you, darling. Pictures don’t do you justice—you are a thousand times prettier in person.”

I’d only sent one selfie of us to Aunt Melissa because Pearl and I weren’t the best at taking pictures together. The photos that circulated of us were from Kate and Duke’s wedding, where we danced together, and others were from coffee shops where people caught glimpses of us. According to Pearl, they didn’t always capture her best angles. Maybe she’s right, if Aunt Melissa thinks she’s prettier in person.

In my opinion, nothing could dim Pearl’s beauty. Not even a bad picture.

“Thank you, Mrs...,” Pearl says, realizing I never told her Aunt Melissa’s last name.

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