Page 77 of Faking the Shot

“Why are you sad?” Faith asked, tracing a fresh tear down Ainsley’s cheek.

“I’m not sad. I’m really happy to see you!” She hugged Faith more tightly, savoring her sweetness, until Faith wriggled, which probably meant she needed to let go.

She stood, suddenly dizzy, and grasped a chair back to hold her upright.

Diana looked at her with sympathy. “You’re welcome to stay for dinner.”

“I don’t think I’d be much company. I still feel so overwhelmed.”

Diana smiled. “Zac is supposed to be coming.”

Was he? All the more reason to go. He didn’t need to see her looking like this. Not again.

But before she could leave, a black Porsche drove into their drive. She looked up as Zac walked in the room.

And all that she’d seen and experienced and felt surged up and spilled over. And she stood and rushed to him and hugged him.

* * *

Zac held on,as his shirt got damp. He glanced at Diana and mouthed “What happened?”

She mouthed back, “Strip joint.”

Part of him was tempted to smile, but another just wanted to hold her tight. Poor Ainsley. “Hey, it’s okay.”

She shook her head. “It’s not okay.”

Diana and Chris ushered their kids away, and he took Ainsley to a more private corner of the living room, and sat with her on the sofa. “Hey Ains.” He wrapped his arm around her.

It took some time before she calmed, her sniffles sounding like she could barely breathe. He reached for a box of tissues, handed it to her, and she took three.

He waited for her to calm, to speak, and prayed for her.

“I’m so sorry for breaking down like that.”

“You don’t need to apologize.” He pressed a kiss to her head. “Was it a little more than what you expected?”

“Oh, Zac.” She then went on to explain about the women she’d met, what she’d seen, the testimonies. “And I just couldn’t get over how normal these women are, and felt this strong burden that these women need to know they are loved by God. Theyareloved by God, but they just don’t know that Jesus died on a cross for them.”

Conviction grew at how he’d attended such places in the past, before remembering that Jesus had died on that cross for him too, so his soul stains had been washed clean by Jesus’s blood as well. His lips twisted. Look at him, using Christian phrasing like “washed clean by the blood.”

“What are you smiling about?” she asked.

He was tempted to deny it, but in this world of fakery, owned the truth instead. “I was thinking about how I’ve been like one of those men. I didn’t know that God loved me. And then I remembered Jesus died on that cross for me too.”

“He did.” She snuggled closer. “He died on that cross for everyone.”

The next minute passed, a moment of what felt like perfect peace.

This, this holding her, being real, talking about important things, felt so good. The world might hold a lot of dark and terrible things, but it was easier when there was someone to hold onto.

“Why is Zac giving Ainsley a special cuddle?” Tanner asked loudly.

Ainsley gasped and pulled away. “He’s not—we’re not—”

“Absolutely not,” Zac said as Chris entered, a scowl on his face.

“You”—he pointed to Tanner—“need to go to your room. You,” he pointed to Zac, “should probably go home soon. I don’t want ‘special cuddles’ going on under my roof. Unless it’s me and my wife, that is.”

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