Page 25 of Steadfast

She pinned the photo to her profile with the caption,

Mia’s in town!!

Her phone began chiming with notifications as reactions from her followers started pouring in on the post. She forced herself to set her phone aside and willed her eyes closed as she attempted to settle her mind.

When Oakleigh managed to drift off to sleep, the emotional wreckage of the day brought back painful, vivid memories. Her dreams carried her to the arena once again in her little black dress, laying over Crew’s limp, lifeless body as Big Slim trampled over them. The dust swirled in a thick cloud, causing her eyes to burn and sting. She could feel the tremor of the hooves like the pounding of the DJ’s beats at one of Mia’s infamous beach house parties.

And there was so much blood.

Oakleigh awoke with a jolt, grasping the sheets on her bed as though her life depended on it. Easing back on her plush pillow, she took a deep breath, attempting to slow her racing heart. She nabbed her phone off the nightstand, yanking it free of the charging cord. It wasn’t even midnight yet, but she knew that was all the rest she would be getting that evening.

I cannot catch a break.

The quietness of her room made her unsettled memories seem glaringly loud. Feeding her anxious drive to occupy her mind, Oakleigh threw on her cozy yoga pants and a sweatshirt. She made her exit into the hallway and down the stairs, where she was met again with the warm, familiar glow from the kitchen.

Just as she had hoped, Maeve was leaning on the counter drinking her coffee.

“Don’t you ever sleep?” Oakleigh smiled, folding her arms as she leaned on the doorframe.

Maeve took a drink from her mug, “I suppose I could ask you the same question.”

Lifting the heavy percolator by the handle, Oakleigh poured herself a cup.

“Do you think that—now hear me out,” Oakleigh said as she took the cream from the refrigerator and poured a dash into her cup. “Could it be that we drink too much coffee?”

Maeve gasped playfully. “Don’t even say it.”

Oakleigh scooped in several spoonfuls of sugar and leaned back on the counter. It was the first moment they had to catch up on the events of the day.

Maeve tilted her head as she set her mug beside her and got straight to the point. “Do you want to talk about what happened with Amos?”

Oakleigh could feel her cheeks flush red with embarrassment. Being confronted with her mistake felt like a gut punch. A part of her had hoped they would just move forward, leaving the incident behind them.

She should have known better.

“So,” Oakleigh began timidly, unsure of how the conversation would go. “Are you mad about it?”

“I’m not thrilled,” Maeve answered plainly.

“Yeah, I lost it, okay? I’m really sorry.” Oakleigh’s gaze darted away, and she could feel her eyes brimming with angry tears as she set her mug down hard on the counter.

“I said that I wasn’t thrilled, not that I don’t understand,” Maeve said with a quiet calm. “I know that people like Amoscan be absolutely infuriating, but I’m praying that you stop giving them the satisfaction of seeing you react. They don’t deserve it, Oakleigh. Stop letting them get the best of you.”

Oakleigh crossed her arms tightly to her chest, almost as though it was an armor of protection from her own vulnerability.

“The thing that really kills me about all this,” Oakleigh admitted, “when I fly off the handle like that, I remind myself ofher.”

Maeve cleared her throat and collected her thoughts. Times like those revealed just how raw the emotional wound still was.

“Your mom and I grew up in the same household. You realize that, right?” Maeve stated, “It’s not easy to break cycles. Trust me, I know.”

“I’m not as strong as you are,” Oakleigh let her tears roll down her cheeks, not even bothering to hide them. She had made strides, but sometimes those familiar feelings of self loathing bubbled back to the surface. “I just hate myself sometimes.”

Maeve’s tone softened as she gently reminded her, as she often did. “Stop comparing yourself to everyone else, Oakleigh, and start looking to Jesus.”

Staring down at her feet, Oakleigh couldn’t seem to find the right words to explain how her entire existence as an influencer relied on comparisons and maintaining a picture perfect life that everyone else craved.

All she wanted was to prove that she could be trusted, and she had let Maeve down again.

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