Page 74 of Deliver Me

Lilly jerked her chin over her shoulder, indicating a little cluster of people near back. “James is in town because his mama isn’t feeling well. Rumor has it she’s gonna need another surgery soon so he’ll be around every few weeks while they’re doing all her doctor’s appointments and such.”

“They?”

“Remember Mrs. Newberry telling us about Emily? His new wife? That’s her.”

Mia had been too preoccupied to notice the new face in the crowd, but she saw her now. A tall and pretty woman with brown hair that fell around her face in soft waves and a ready smile.

“She looks nice,” Mia said with a shrug.

“But Mrs. Newberry isn’t, and you know she’s going to come running over to point out how lucky James was to end up with her instead of you.”

Mia pressed a hand to her temple where a headache was beginning to form. She should be used to this by now but dealing with it never seemed to get easier. “Maybe I can still make it out without her spotting me.”

Lilly shook her head. “I think it’s too late,” she said, shaking her head apologetically. “She was talking to James, snapped him up as soon as he came in looking for Emily, and now they’re headed this way.”

Mia groaned. It had been a long time since she’d had to deal with James, and it still didn’t quite feel like long enough.

“Hey, Lilly, how are you doing?’

Lilly gave James her brightest smile as he joined them and turned her body to shield Mia from his view. “I’m doing fine,” she said sweetly. “It’s been a long time since you came around and I see you’ve brought your wife this time. Maybe you can introduce me and tell me about the new church you’ve got? I hear it’s just a few towns over, down the highway.”

“It is,” he agreed. “I’d be happy to introduce you to Emily.”

“It’s a shame you two won’t be able to meet Mia’s … whatever do you call the man you live with?” Mrs. Newberry faced her with a pasted on puzzled frown.

Mia didn’t even pretend to smile, and her voice was flat and unfriendly when she answered. “Gabriel’s my boyfriend.”

“Oh,” James said, looking rapidly between the three women. “I remember seeing something on the news about him getting out of prison, I think. They made things seem … well …”

“Right,” Mia said quickly, taking a few steps back toward the door. If she left now, she could rob Mrs. Newberry of the opportunity to parade her sins in front of an audience again. “He’s waiting for me, so I better go.”

“He doesn’t come,” Mrs. Newberry said to James, leaning in to pass the information along as though they were sharing a secret and letting her voice lilt into something sickly sweet. It was the kind of thing that sounded like concern on the surface but was loaded beneath with pity and condescension.

Mia didn’t wait to hear James’ response as she turned and hurried from the room, and she didn’t give in to the urge tosneak another glance at his wife as she passed. The woman lived the life that might have been hers had things been different, but whatever curiosity she might have felt was buried beneath a mound of shame and frustration.

That feeling stayed with her until she swept into the apartment, door banging roughly on the wall as she tossed it open and swept inside without making eye contact with Gabriel on the couch. She was vibrating with rage, her hands shaking as she replayed the scene at the church over in her mind. She flicked through the stack of mail she’d picked up from the mailbox on her way up, tossing each item across the table with a flick of her wrist. Bills, advertisements, a thick cream envelope addressed in looping feminine script she didn’t recognize. She frowned and pulled it from the pile to examine it more closely, momentarily distracted from her anger, but Gabriel pulled it all from her grasp and tossed it on the kitchen table before she could read the name.

“What’s wrong?” he asked. “What happened?”

“Jameshappened,” she said, her voice pitched high and wobbling on each syllable. “Mrs. Newberryhappened. James was there with his wife and that was all the ammunition Mrs. Newberry needed.” She choked down a sob and clung to the anger instead. “It was all she needed to hurt me, to find another opportunity to throw you in my face again.”

“What did she say to you?” he asked.

“The same thing she says every time,” Mia said. “That if you loved me, you’d be there for me.”

“Mia …”

“I know you love me,” she looked up at him through wet lashes, trying to explain with her gaze what she was struggling to put into words, “but it’s still hard to do it all alone. I understand why you won’t go, but that doesn’t change that it hurts when you aren’t with me.”

“Church is important to you.” He stopped, teeth set against the skin of his lip as he, too, tried to find the right words as he weighed his own fears against his urge to support her.

“And so are you,” she assured him. “It’s just … It’s difficult when the parts of my life that matter the most don’t mix and I worry about you. You keep yourself locked in here and I get it, I really do, but you’re making our apartment into another prison. You’re just sitting and stewing in your thoughts.”

“If I’ve made the apartment a prison for me, then you’ve let that bitch make church a prison for you.”

His assessment hit its target, knocking the breath out of her. Silence stretched between them as she sat on the edge of the couch and dropped her head to her knees.

“You’re not the only one who’s worried, Mia.” He sat beside her and rubbed his hand over her stiff shoulders. “She’s not any good for you or that place.”

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